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#and I love a mess. I could talk about mess all day
fruittt-punchhh · 2 days
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what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻
everyone please let anon cook.
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MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.
WC: 4.8k
CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.
“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.
“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.
“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.
You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.
“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.
You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.
“Remember that special day coming up soon?”
Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.
“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”
Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?
“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.
“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.
“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”
How elementary.
“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.
“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”
Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.
“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.
He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.
You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.
“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.
He grips your hand tightly.
His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.
His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.
Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.
“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.
“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”
Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.
“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.
“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.
He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.
“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.
You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.
“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”
This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.
“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.
He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.
“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.
Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.
“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.
He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.
“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”
The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.
You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.
You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.
“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.
Always so nosy.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.
You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.
You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.
You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.
He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.
He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.
Or so he thought.
You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.
“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”
He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.
“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.
You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.
Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.
You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.
“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.
Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.
“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.
“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.
You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.
“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.
He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.
“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.
You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.
“No what?”
You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.
“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.
You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.
You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.
“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.
You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.
He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.
You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.
“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.
“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?
He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.
You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.
“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.
You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).
You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.
“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.
You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.
“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.
He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.
“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.
You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.
“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.
He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.
“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.
“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.
The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.
“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.
You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.
“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.
You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.
“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.
Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.
“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.
This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.
“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.
Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —
A hand?
Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.
“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.
“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.
Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.
“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”
Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.
“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.
All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.
“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.
He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.
“No ma’am. We’re jus’ gettin’ started, hah.”
@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum @tojiluhbit @leeisyourmom
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ladykailitha · 3 days
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So I saw this on Facebook and thought it would make a great Steddie fic.
Now the jewelry screams Eddie, but I think that this is bouncer Eddie and drunk Stevie, having been broken up with for the hundredth time and just wanting to get blackout drunk.
Modern AU. Robin is off visiting family when this happens and strictly forbade him from going out. But Steve is out of ice cream and fucks to give so he goes out.
He gets steadily more wasted as the night goes on. He's not even flirting with the hot bartender Chrissy. Which she thinks should feel insulted by, but just really feels sorry for him.
He's a weepy drunk and it's not long afterwards that she cuts him off before he scares off her tips.
She calls over one of their bouncers to get this guy out from under her bar.
Eddie lopes over and picks him up.
They try to get ahold of some of his other friends but they aren't answering, which considering it's well after midnight, Eddie really doesn't blame them for.
But he has a hot mess on his hands and no place to stash him. So he talks to his boss who lets him off early to take care of Steve. Who is definitely NOT sober enough to tell him his address and because he's been kicked out by his girlfriend his wallet really doesn't help (he had been staying at Robin's).
So Eddie takes him home and of course about half way up the stairs to his apartment, Steve empties his stomach EVERYWHERE. All over Eddie's boots, the stairs, but most importantly all over himself.
He manages to make it to his apartment and carefully strips him down to his underwear and socks, removing everything including some small jewelry. He throws the clothes in the washer and then sets about cleaning up any vomit that might still be on the guy and tucks him into bed.
Then he goes about cleaning the vomit up from the hall, he cleans his boots and sets them to dry on the balcony.
Then Eddie starts preparing for the this poor guy's inevitable hangover. Painkillers and water on the nightstand, phone plugged in with a spare charger he had. Wallet and keys next the jewelry in the drawer.
He puts some warm clothes in the top drawer of the dresser, towels on the toilet seat, and making sure there is coffee ready to be brewed for the guy when he wakes up.
Then he goes to sleep himself and wakes up to find the guy still out cold and he has to go to his day job. He feeds Dio his breakfast and takes him out to do his business, but when he comes back and still the guy hasn't woken up. So he types up the note and sets it on the nightstand over top of the guy's phone and heads out.
Two hours later, Steve wakes up to find the worst hangover he's ever had and that includes to the time Robin and Steve decided to do a drinking tour of the world and didn't know you were supposed to spit out after tasting.
He also almost naked and is really freaking out, hoping he didn't have some one night stand because Robin would murder him a second time, after killing him for going out when she told him not to.
Then he sees the note and his heart melts a little at being taken care of then immediately kicks up to 100mph when he realizes who his rescuer is.
The hot bouncer he flirted with the get in the club in the first place.
Shit, shit, shit.
He really needs to leave and needs all of his stuff before he can do that so he reads the note again and re-reads the last paragraph again and again.
Shower, Netflix and doggo? Hmm...
He doesn't work today, that's why he went out drinking in the first place. He could call an Uber to meet him at the main street in the note...
Or...
He could spend the day in comfort and security for once in his life.
He takes the second option and has a lovely time with Dio and messaging Robin.
She's still going to murder him but she's glad he's safe.
Then the owner of said apartment shows up and Steve is really glad he stayed.
They order in and get to know each other a bit more and when he finally gets back to his car and home, he's got a name and a number with the possibility of a date.
Robin absolutely hates his luck. Even more so when she meets Eddie because he's perfect for Steve.
It becomes her funny story at their wedding two years later.
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joosthead · 2 days
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SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ
just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader
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₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F)  gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better
₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch
₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k
₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n
₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift
₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee
rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.
18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.
To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you. 
The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making. 
It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour. 
He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.
Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else. 
You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed. 
In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.
In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down. 
As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.
You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you. 
He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house. 
“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing. 
You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—” 
“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.” 
You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”
“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away. 
The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating. 
You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days. 
As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake. 
The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again. 
You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?” 
It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.” 
“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.” 
Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you. 
The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth. 
“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles. 
You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles. 
“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.” 
Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet. 
“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again. 
“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.
“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?” 
Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”
“I could say the same for you.” 
You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is. 
Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own. 
Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.  
Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else. 
Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option. 
Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to. 
“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.
“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.
You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.” 
Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.
“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway. 
“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”
“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.” 
You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet. 
Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?” 
“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?” 
The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him. 
“Much too long.” 
You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.
Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl. 
“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.” 
“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is. 
“I might have to promise with how this is going.” 
“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.” 
“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”
He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.” 
“When has that ever stopped you before?”  
Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.” 
“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all.  He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips. 
His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.
He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase  it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly. 
The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.
“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough.  The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”
It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most. 
You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship. 
Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”
All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album. 
The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts. 
“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?” 
“You…you wrote a song about me?” 
Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded. 
Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.
“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention. 
You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”
Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now. 
“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—” 
“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.” 
That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.” 
“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap. 
You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.
“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.” 
You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.” 
“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied.  You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.” 
“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together. 
“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”
“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.
“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?” 
“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.” 
“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.” 
“But I wanted to know.” 
“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.” 
“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.” 
“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.” 
345 notes · View notes
sleepyjuice · 3 days
Note
If you like crafting and making jewelry, you best bet JJ is wearing every single thing you make him even if it looks tacky or childish. He will wear that colorful beaded bracelet with pride and tell everyone that his talented girlfriend made it for him.
You had started making jewelry half as a joke and half out of boredom. You figured you’d make some silly little bracelets and give them to your friends as a gag gift.
You were just working with beads for now, so you weren’t being fancy by any means.
Of course you had made one for jj. It was full of different shades of blue beads, some white, with some little ocean themed charms. Plus, a few hearts, of course.
When you gave it to him, you would have thought you gave him a fucking Cartier bracelet or something.
“Holy shit, you made this?” He was dumbfounded, his mouth agape as he studied the little bracelet, immediately sliding it onto his wrist.
You laughed quietly, unsure if he was being overly dramatic as a joke.
“Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s nothing crazy, jay. I was bored yesterday and found a case of old beads I had from when I was a kid.” You explained, genuinely not expecting him to be so excited.
“You kidding me? This is sick. You make any more?” He asked, nodding his head in the direction of you cluttered desk, where you did indeed have several more that you made.
“Yeah, but these ones are silly. Seriously, I was just messing around.” You told him, watching as he walked over to your desk, studying all of your other creations in awe.
He was immediately drawn to one you had made for yourself. Pink beads, hearts, butterfly charms, and your name was spelled out.
He grabbed that one, holding it out to you.
“Can I have this one, too?” He asked, dead serious.
Your heart raced at his words, damn near wanting to cry at how sweet he was being. He was being so genuine and supportive and you had never felt someone show you so much love and pride for something quite literally so small.
“You want that one?” You giggled, and he nodded in response, already sliding it onto the same wrist as his other one.
“Baby, you got some real talent here. You gotta start one of them Etsy shops or somethin’.” He pulled you into him by your waist, kissing your lips a few times before pulling back and holding out his wrist to you.
“You gotta make me some more, babe, seriously. Next paycheck imma take you to the craft store so you can get some more stuff.”
He wore his two bracelets proudly, going about his day as usual, not taking them off, even for work.
That was when someone made a comment.
“Shit, maybank, I like the new ice. Didn’t know you had a baby sister.” Someone snickered at him as he bussed tables, causing him to set the buss tub down harshly, turning to face the guy that was talking shit.
“Shut the fuck up, man. My girl made these. Do we have a fuckin’ problem?” jj challenged, ready to fight for your honor.
Say what you want about jj, but don’t say shit about his loved ones.
Fortunately for the other guy, he wasn’t in the mood to fight over a bracelet, even though jj was. So he just held his hands up in surrender and backed away.
“Whatever, dude. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He concluded, making jj clench his fists as he inhaled sharply, his heart racing in anger.
He didn’t want to let some random asshole get the last word, but he could see his boss from the corner of his eye, so he forced himself to take a deep breath and continue working. He couldn’t afford to get fired, he had to take you out to get more craft supplies.
173 notes · View notes
jenscx · 2 days
Text
[03] tumblr girls — wonder
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it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.
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just having experienced the best day of your life, you wake up to all sunshine and rainbows. literally nothing could deter your happy mood all day. the weekend had gone by in a blur, attributed to you only thinking about danielle. the mere fact that she listened to your playlist and thought it was great made you feel on cloud nine. a compliment! you received a compliment from danielle marsh! the most popular girl in school!
you sigh dreamily at the thought of her again. at this point, your sister, heejin grimaces at your love struck appearance. she waves her spoon at you, mouth stuffed with cereal, “why do you look like… that? and can you stop?”
even her comments couldn’t stop your train of glee.
“nope, i can’t stop,” you reply, literally unable to get rid of the smile on your face. even your cheekbones were starting to hurt.
heejin sighs, swallowing the mouthful of cereal before remarking, “did someone ask you on a date?”
you groan, “ugh, i wish but…”
honestly, there wasn’t a consequence in telling your sister, you were just afraid of the teasing you would receive.
“there’s this girl i have a crush on,” heejin instantly perks up, eyes gleaming with mirth, “shut up, she’s my partner for this project and she said my playlist was good.”
heejin visibly deflates.
“seriously? over something so small?”
you meekly reply, “it’s a lot coming from her! this is like, my first time talking to her and she complimented me!”
your sister nods, staring at you carefully.
“that’s true… but uh, is she,” heejin does a limp movement of the wrist, “y’know?”
“to be honest, i have no idea, but she gives off straight vibes. also i’ve never heard her be into girls, only guys.” despite this, your mood doesn’t change. as long as you were friends with danielle, that was enough. you wouldn’t need to date her specifically, just having her in your life was better than not knowing each other at all. she brought so much happiness and excitement into your dull life. minji and hanni were your best friends, but it always felt like they had each other. obviously not their fault, but it felt nice to have a friend outside of them.
“that’s, i guess, not devastating?” heejin offers unhelpfully. you nod, not minding her blunt words. danielle liking guys was a known fact. it only mattered if she likes girls too. maybe if she does, she wouldn’t even look at you as a potential partner. just a good friend.
that’s okay, you convince yourself. you can stay friends. it would make you happy too that danielle enjoyed your company. just not enough to date you.
“it’s okay though, i’m happy just being friends with her now. i like our friendship.”
heejin stands up from the table abruptly.
“i mean this with care and love,” she starts out, pity in her eyes but tone full of conviction, “you either stop being friends with her before you start to fully fall in love—”
your face falls, “no way.”
“or, you confess so you can move on.”
oh.
“i can’t do that, heejin,” you ramble, “our friendship’s in a really good place right now and if i confess it would mess everything up. what if she doesn’t want to be friends with a…” your voice trails off. heejin sighs, a hand reaching out to pat your shoulder sympathetically, “if what you’ve said about her is true, she wouldn’t mind staying friends.”
your mind tells you it’s true, but your heart says otherwise. having danielle in front of you, say that she doesn’t like you romantically, would crush your soul. at least admiring her from afar would let you imagine.
“you’re thinking too much about what ifs,” heejin explains, “you can’t just be wondering your whole life if that one girl you liked in high school was really into girls or not? you’re stuck thinking what if you had confessed? so what if in ten years she shows up with a girlfriend? would you be upset that you didn’t confess sooner?”
heejin’s right, but you can’t find it in yourself to bring up the courage to confess. it was too vulnerable. you didn’t want danielle to stare at you with disgust or anger that you liked her romantically. after all, it wasn’t as if you were friends. just project partners.
“i’ll… think about it.”
your sister nods, “your phone’s ringing by the way.”
as she walks away, you unlock your phone, the sight of danielle’s opened chat greets you.
danielle [7.36am]:
morning!!
u free tdy after sch?
jeon y/n [7.38am]:
i’ll have to check
but i think i’m free
danielle [7.38am]:
okay awesome!
let’s meet up
jeon y/n [7.39am]:
okay!
heejin’s words plague your mind again. you shake your head. now wasn’t the time to be thinking about such things. you had to go to school and survive hanni and minji first. you wonder what hanni had said to her best friend after the phone call. since you didn’t receive any angry texts about minji, it would be safe to assume they were fine for now.
maybe you should worry about your own love life before theirs though. a blank slate appears in your mind as you make your way to school.
you spot minji and hanni, bless them, waiting outside the gate, both looking annoyed and irritated. could they go a day without arguing? sighing, you walk towards them, bracing yourself for either one to lunge onto you and start complaining.
of course, as always, hanni does.
“y/n,” she whines, “minji’s being mean again.”
you raise an eyebrow at her tone.
“what did minji do?” did they not resolve anything over the weekend?
minji shrugs, “i didn’t do anything.”
this ticks hanni off, since she scoffs, “maybe you should reflect and think about your actions.”
“maybe you tell me what the hell i did wrong this time instead of acting like a brat.”
“i’ll act like a brat all right, c’mere you little shit—”
before hanni starts swinging, you drag both of them into the school, wincing at the numerous attempts of punches hanni throws.
“let’s get to class first, we’ll be late for mr lee’s lesson,” you hold your friends by the collar. minji nods while hanni swats your hand away. you sigh, massaging your temples. if your friends were going to act like this the whole day, it would bring you much suffering.
garnering some weird stares from people along the hallway, you finally make it to the classroom without hanni pouncing on minji. a sigh escapes you as you sit down, relieved of babysitting duties from them. their argument can still be heard but at least they won’t fight each other psychically here. probably not.
you’re seated, deep in thought, when someone comes up to you.
“hey,” danielle smiles bashfully. you stare at her, awestruck.
“hi.”
the girl laughs and murmurs shyly, “i wanted to thank you for both the coffee and the playlist, so…” you watch as she pulls out a lunchbox, an adorable my melody lunchbox.
“i made you gimbap,” she explains, placing the lunchbox on your desk and staring at you sheepishly, “my mum helped me out.”
you wonder if you can marry her right now.
“thank you,” you swallow, hoping your voice doesn’t come out strained, gratitude evident in your eyes as you smile, “really.”
“it’s no problem, i wanted to repay you…”
“i’ll eat it well,” you say earnestly. it’s just a strange thing to say but since danielle giggles, you think it’s worth it.
“i hope it’s to your liking. see you later, y/n.” you like how your name sounds rolling off danielle’s tongue, in her sweet honey voice.
you take the lunchbox in your hands carefully, gently placing it in your bag as danielle retreats back to her seat.
hanni and minji both eye you, their fight long forgotten as hanni whispers loudly, “what the hell was that?”
your hands tremble as you retrieve your pencil case from your bag, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, “she’s being nice.”
“of course she is, but she made food for you? and you made a playlist for her? is that not the most obvious declaration of love like, ever?” hanni stresses.
minji frowns, “i don’t think that’s a declaration of love but yeah, she had this weird look in her eyes.”
“huh?”
your friend hesitates, you don’t miss the quick glance towards hanni who’s eagerly anticipating the answer, “like, longing. you get what i mean?”
hanni nods vigorously, “agreed. she was staring hard.”
you laugh, pushing down the feelings of happiness and delight, “that’s just how she looks. she always has that look.”
“oh girl… whatever you wanna believe,” hanni smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. you twirl your pen around your fingers, wondering about how it would feel to actually be the subject of danielle’s love. if receiving gimbap from her already made you feel this way, how would it feel to be her constant muse? you sigh, not even noticing the subtle glances she sends your way from in front.
you don’t notice mr lee coming in either, a grin on his face as he announces, “i’ll give you guys some time to continue with the project and ask any questions.”
your face heats up at the thought of spending more time with danielle, who turns her head sharply to wink at you. your cheeks burn even more.
a few moments of silence pass before the class erupts into noise, most people shifting their seats to find their partner. you eagerly wait for danielle to come over, seeing as how her seat had been taken up by someone else. pulling a chair from an empty desk, you slide it towards your own, keeping a respectful distance between the two. however, danielle seems to have other plans as she shifts it closer, completely disregarding your need for space in the best way possible.
“we already finished half of it,” danielle says cheerfully, “it’s just the portion of experimenting now.”
your face blanches.
“experimenting?” you repeat. what the hell did danielle think of?
her face morphs into one of amusement, eyes twinkling with merriment, “y’know, finding out how humans actually feel attraction, and what better way than to experience it ourselves?”
“you’re joking,” you blurt out.
danielle responds by pouting, “i’m really not. have you heard of the study by that one psychologist, was it thirty six questions to fall in love?”
“psychologist doctor arthur aron, formulated in 1977, a study consisting of thirty six questions to ask to fall in love,” you recite instantly. danielle’s face lights up.
“so you do know! since it was intended to speed up the creation of intimacy between two strangers, wouldn’t it serve as a helpful experiment to carry out for our project on human attraction?”
you sigh, “and where are we going to find willing lab rats for this experiment?”
danielle’s gaze shifts over ever so slightly, her eyes crinkling into a smile as she whispers, “them.”
your head turns.
kim minji and pham hanni, with their separate partners, yet both seated near each other.
“you’re a genius.”
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“gosh, haerin i said i’ll be fine,” danielle shrieks, trying to rid the girl following her, “you should go find hyein or something!”
her best friend, understandably, offended, retorts, “you forgot we have practice today. that’s what i’ve been wanting to tell you.”
the brunette’s quick footsteps come to a halt. she turns to haerin with widened eyes, her mouth agape. haerin only huffs and reaches out a hand to push her jaw back in place, “i wasn’t trying to crash your date with y/n, or whatever, not that i like the idea of it.”
“it’s not a date, we’re doing our project,” danielle defends, yet the redness residing in her cheeks gives away her true feelings. haerin stares at her blankly.
“sure, i still can’t believe you got injured during a game because she waved at you—”
danielle rushes to cover haerin’s mouth with her hand, exclaiming, “you talk too much!”
haerin points to herself with an incredulous look since who the hell has ever said she talks too much? it’s always that she talks too little. haerin wonders if her best friend is going crazy.
“so what are you going to do about y/n? are you going to make her wait?” haerin pulls on danielle’s bag strap. the girl visibly saddens, “i mean, cheer’s gonna be until four, would she be willing to wait till then? and i don’t wanna tell her over text or something, what if she thinks i’m ditching her…”
“i’ll tell her for you,” haerin finally says. danielle turns to her, surprise evident in her eyes. haerin adds on, “if you buy me that jellycat keychain, i’ll go find y/n and convince her to wait. we have the same lesson next period.”
danielle beams, throwing her arms over haerin and squeezing her tight as she mutters words of gratitude and thanks. haerin only brushes her off, the lingering thought of the jellycat keychain pursuing her mind endlessly. while danielle prances off to her next class, haerin makes her way to her own. she peeks in, already spotting you engrossed in reading a book. despite the chaos of students chattering around you, haerin finds it intriguing that you manage to stay focused throughout.
she walks to your desk, her hand reaching out to grasp the book. understandably, your head snaps upwards in shock, eyes widened as you fumble for your book. haerin reads the cover title, the handmaid’s tale, by margaret atwood.
“uhm,” you mutter unintelligibly, “can i have my book back?”
the girl only stares at you with round piercing eyes.
“we have cheer practice today.”
you frown.
“okay?”
“we end at four.”
“uh, good for you,” you reply, unsure of what the cat-eyed girl was trying to imply. her vague words didn’t help either.
“danielle is only available after,” haerin says, exasperated and shocked you were that dense. could you not pick up on her cues?
you finally make a face of recognition (she thinks you look stupid), “oh, so are you her messenger pigeon…?”
“she wants to ask you if you’re willing to wait for her.”
“okay, tell her i’ll wait, or i can stay to watch her practice,” you reply, reaching out to retrieve your book. haerin allows it and goes to her seat, which is further back. a perfect place to learn what makes danielle so entranced with you. what an interesting character. she observes you with sharp eyes, noting down every characteristic you had.
you seemed to like reading, which was honestly surprising considering most people nowadays don’t even pick up a singular book their whole life. you also seemed pretty quiet, which haerin approved of. she hated loud people, talkative people were fine, which is why she likes danielle, but she just can’t stand loud, obnoxious people. maybe you were the same as well. and perhaps your face wasn’t bad to look at.
huh.
haerin smiles to herself. even though you had basically caused the cheerleading team’s flyer to be injured (she still doesn’t forgive you, or danielle for that), maybe you would be good for her best friend.
you stare blankly at the pages filled with words, nothing entering your head. your mind was constantly rewinding the interaction with haerin. did danielle ask her to tell you personally? why didn’t she just text you? and why did you blurt out that haerin was a messenger pigeon? the narrowed glare you received was only a testament of how awful you answered. what if that soured danielle’s impression of you? would haerin even report such an incident to her best friend? questions raced through your mind, all unanswered and eager. unaware of the staring eyes, you only close the book with a sigh. at this rate, you wouldn’t be able to digest any information.
sucks that you have calculus now. you wish you could just become a full-time humanities student, that way you wouldn’t have to deal with any science or mathematics subjects. forcing yourself to focus, you widen your eyes and gaze harshly at the whiteboard as the teacher strolls in.
you immediately lose moral when you see the stack of worksheets in her arms.
“we’re having a pop quiz today, everyone please get ready.”
haerin watches as you groan audibly.
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your cheeks are stuffed with the delicious gimbap danielle had made. the lunchbox rests carefully on your thighs as you watch the cheerleaders assemble on the field. eyes instantly flickering to find the curly waves of brown hair, you finally land on danielle who looks super excited and happy.
warmth simmers in your stomach as you watch danielle converse with haerin animatedly, her hands moving in grand gestures to express her feelings. your eyes trail onto haerin’s blank features, no doubt zoning out at whatever danielle was saying. or maybe that was her listening face. you honestly had no clue. sometimes your eyes wander to the rest of the team, but you really don’t have any connection to them. gong yubin, lee jiwoo, kim jiwoo… and two other faces you recognised, yet didn’t know the names of. the rest you don’t think are in your grade.
you don’t notice the lingering gaze of one cheerleader while deep in thought. it’s only when you go for a second gimbap, you make eye contact with danielle.
hi. she mouths.
hi. you mouth back, along with a small but awkward wave. danielle’s hand flies up to cover her smile. you can tell she’s giggling, and the thought of having experienced hearing such a blessed sound makes your heart constrict with longing to hear it once more.
eventually, the cheerleading coach comes and you have to break eye contact with danielle. honestly, the saddest thing you’ve ever done in your life. you turn your attention to the unfinished google doc displayed on the screen. the laptop is danielle’s and she had so kindly lent it to you. you had agreed to brush up on the research and finer details before exploring the experiment and danielle instructed you to finish it on her laptop.
you heave a sigh as you start typing about human attraction or whatever. the only human attraction you experienced was towards danielle, and you can’t really write a paper on how beautiful she looks, how she's the sweetest girl alive, how you only come to school to see her every day. well, it wouldn’t be considered an essay, just a love letter. your eyes unconsciously search for danielle in the sea of blue uniforms. her hair was now tied back in a high ponytail, a bright white bow attached behind. you watch as she stretches, red blooming on your cheeks as you follow the movements of her hand from her ankles, trailing up the long, pale expanse of her leg.
stop it, you remind yourself. you were here for a reason, not just to gawk at danielle. as she turns her head up, her hazel eyes meet yours, eyelashes fluttering while she continues staring. you swallow the lump in your throat. the tips of her lips itched upwards, as if she knew you were looking. in your haste to do anything but stare back, you whip your head towards the laptop, fingers quickly running all over the keyboard.
it’s only when your thumb hits a random key that the google document closes. you frown, attempting to open it back up. yet, a separate tab opens and you’re left shocked.
danielle marsh is a tumblr user.
you stare blankly at the blog, sunshinesza.
what the hell?
despite the very obvious moral choice here, you click on the blog itself. the profile picture is just a cute drawn rabbit and her header was a picture of a bouquet of flowers. pink tulips, to be exact. her name was still jihye on tumblr, but perhaps since there were a lot of people named jihye, it wasn’t exposing her too much. it felt so wrong to continue scrolling. yet, you couldn’t help yourself. this was an extremely private part of danielle and you were directly invading her privacy. most of her posts were just her ranting about school or cheerleading practice. some of them included photos of her cooking. the gimbap in your mouth only served as a reminder to her skills in the kitchen.
the cursor pauses at a post.
sorry guys, i have to ask, is it weird if i like a girl rn? my bff keeps making fun of me :( she’s just my partner in a project but i’ve liked her since middle school. idk if she’s into girls, she doesn’t really interact with guys either tho. it was my first time hanging out with her a few days ago. she’s so charming and cool that i can’t help but want to continue spending time with her. but what if she doesn’t want to hang out with me after the project’s done? i love and hate that she’s so hard-working and efficient since it’ll make our time shorter. sometimes she does things that make me feel deluded and i can’t really tell if she’s being fr… maybe i’m gg crazy.
you wonder if you’re going crazy.
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spinchip · 2 days
Text
He keeps ending up in these situations- these soft, quiet moments with Zane where everything Lloyd wants to say is crowding behind his teeth before he swallows it all back down. He never felt bold enough to disturb the piece, or maybe he never felt sure-footed enough to navigate the conversation. The land around the topic of the Never Realm was still littered with landmines and sinkholes. Zane didn't talk to them about it.
They're stargazing. Lloyd was out here first basking in the rare alone time. He'd turned Kai away two hours ago when he'd come to check on him, but when Zane stood over him and blotted out the stars with a weak smile- Lloyd invited him to stay, and promised himself he wouldn't shelve this conversation for another day.
He's look at Ursa Major when he says it, "I'm Afraid you'll never be okay again."
There's a soft pause.
"I am okay, Lloyd." Zane reassures him in a voice that is so much more monotone than before the Never Realm, "Therapy has been extremely rewarding. I feel like myself again."
He sits up, propping himself up on arms that don’t tremble, “You’re not yourself, though.” He feels like he has to force the words out from behind the lump in his throat, “You don’t cook, or meditate, or bird watch anymore-” He stops to center himself, “...I’m scared you’ll never go back to normal.”
Zane is the quiet one this time.
Lloyd lies back down, feeling worse than before. They watch the stars trek across the sky.
“I believe this is the new normal, Lloyd.” He says very, very quietly.
Immediately Lloyd sits up again, twisting to face Zane, “How can you say that? Two months ago you were acting totally fine! Yeah, when you came back from the Never Realm you spent a whole month alone in your room... but then you were Zane again, and now- now you’re…”
“Different.” Zane finishes, “I have changed.”
“Yeah.” Lloyd turn forward, staring down in his lap.
No one says anything. Lloyd feels like he's royally blowing this conversation and making everything worse.
“...When I first returned from the Never Realm, I was... in a dark place. It was easier to hide and sort through things on my own, But I… had not dealt with it as well as I could have. After I spent that time alone and I returned to the team, once more joining with the group socially, I was still a mess. I did not know who I was, and I did not feel like anyone- not Zane, and not the emperor. So I looked in my memory banks and pretended.”
Lloyd looks back at Zane, who’s eyes are fixed resolutely on the moon and not Lloyd's reaction. “You… what?”
“I did not want to worry you. My theory was that If i acted like I was okay, I would be. I hoped I could figure it all out before anyone realized I was wearing a mask, that I could fix myself to the point where I could stop pretending.” He links his hands together on top of his stomach, “Then Cyrus Borg put me in touch with his therapist." Two times a week, every Monday and Thursday. Lloyd knew that. "She helped me realize that this act I was putting on was not a positive move for me and my recovery. It is not that I have regressed, Lloyd- i have simply stopped pretending to be who I used to be.”
“You were trying to protect us?”
There’s another pause, “It was partly selfish, too. I was… afraid. I was scared that if you and the others realized just how much I had changed, you would not see me the same. That the love you had for me would not be able to adapt to who I have become.”
“I- of course we would love you! Always!” Lloyd insisted immediately, “It’s not- I didn’t mean- I was just worried. I’m sorry.” He feels shame curdle in his gut at his earlier words, unintentionally picking at Zane's insecurity.
“I understand your feelings, Lloyd. You do not need to apologize,” He smiles softly at him and its not the same smile Lloyd is so used to, but it has its own warmth, “Change is not… a bad thing. The circumstances leading to this were, but this is what healing looks like for me at this point. I am figuring out who I am again- I do not bird watch or cook or meditate, no, but I think you’ll be surprised at how good my knitting has gotten.” He offers Lloyd another tiny smile, “I am finding my happiness again.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Zane's soft blue eyes flicker back up to the stars and his smile turns gentle, “You are always helping, even if you do not realize it. All of you are.”
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cranberry-writes · 1 day
Text
Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!
Please send requests, i need motivation
Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko
Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me
Hughie;
- He’s so so sweet about your relationship
- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them
- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.
- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you
- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal
- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.
- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same
- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.
- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.
“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”
“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”
“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”
“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”
- You find out like two days later
Butcher;
- Little shit
- I mean that affectionately
- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it
- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog
- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing
- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way
- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort
- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)
- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.
- He’s sweet in his own way
“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways
MM;
- Definition of husband material
- remembers anything and everything after being told one time
- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately
- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month
- Good gods he’s sweet to you
- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time
- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.
- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day
- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together
- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject
- Chances are you won’t find out
- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it
“Baby what are these?”
“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”
“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”
Frenchie;
- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand
-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating
“Are we dating?”
“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”
- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit
- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that
- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up
- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way
- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with
- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest
Kimiko
-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her
- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you
- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you
- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho
- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other
- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them
- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it
- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them
- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first
- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it
“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”
Thank you, this is nice
- Please she’s perfect i love her
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the-monkeies-girl · 2 days
Text
( POTA NSFW THOUGHTS BELOW 18+)
Do not like, do not read, it is that SIMPLE.
*Barking uncontrollably*
it needs to be talked about IT NEEDS TO [ ricocheting gunshot, i am taken out once again. ]
Caesar likes to give oral - Really garners more pleasure giving what you want and knowing that he can get you a writhing mess below him than it does to receive, the King is all powerful with you in his hand. Will actually use his fingers ( unlike the others I imagine, at least for the time being. ) You have a bar of soap reserved for it, Caesar knowing that cleanliness is important for Humans and will wash his hands before he fingers you. Two fingers are your limit given how thick they are compared to human digits. Usually the pointer and the middle, he scissors as you had shown him once that that's a good way to get your back arching and toes curling. You're in for an absolute treat when Caesar drags his head down, panting against your pubic hair for a moment and giving you a fluttering glance in anticipation as he draws himself down and his protruding mouth is barely ghosting against your clit, his fingers stopping their action for only a moment before he scraps his appendage against your bundle of nerves and he's fast back at work, fingers slick with your juices as he sets a languid pace at first, curling his pointer finger but leaving his middle straight to hit the spot that you had urged him to hit multiple times before. If he plays you just right, you might grasp at his cock mid-stroke of his wrist and urge him closer so you could give him something in return. That doesn't last long, Caesar will snap and push you back and tell you that you need to wait.
Noa likes to receive oral - The absolute delectation he gets when you're so willing to put yourself in front of him in a bid to bring pleasure, the moans you give against him, the furling of his hands into your hair really tug towards that primal intent he has towards you that he keeps shoved down. This isn't to say that he is not all for giving once he's gotten enough control over things like his teeth ( He scraped you once and you almost had a heart attack at how hard it was. ) But, once Noa gets it down to an art with practice ( Hey, he's an obsessive creature by habit lol), he's deep between your legs, letting his blunted teeth run up and down against you teasingly slow, staring straight up at you and maintaining intense eye contact as the pad of his tongue rides against your clit causing you to buck. Hands are on your hips immediately, keeping you pinned and Noa pushes his entire muzzle forward to let his tongue slide into your pussy. He loves to pull away after the heat of the moment and drag his tongue along his canines and you can see your orgasm against his beard, chin and nose from how deeply engrained he had himself, a smug look radiating along him as he had gotten you to cum with only his mouth.
Blue Eyes Is equally into both and it really depends on the day - Likes to give and likes to receive. Probably shocked him the first time you ever gave him oral but slowly leaned into it as a favorite form of foreplay, or even just regular intimacy if you didn't feel like completely laying. He loves to return the favor ( a true gentleman ) and loves to get himself messy between your legs. First time you had gone down on him was an incredible shock and overdrew his senses to the point where you weren't actually able to get him fully into your mouth, and he was done with just a few pumps of your hand, your lips hot and heavy against the side, right along the vein that trickled on the underside. Blue Eyes is a panic below you, stiffening to the point where he feels like his scars are going to re-open and supply him with new wounds, his mind racing at the prospect that what you suggested, your mouth consuming him entirely, wasn't even played out and he's eager to try again once the Prince gives you the 'okay'. First time he had gone down on you he completely missed the mark, but it was still an incredible experience as you essentially rode his face, feeling the way that his tongue was wilding lapping at the scent and sweetness that had been teasing Blue Eyes for so long. He's more about nestle himself into it, which was more than okay with you at the moment as you grinded against his face, allowing your juices to coat almost his entire face with the knowledge that all the other female Apes in the Colony were going to sense it and know that you were who their Prince chose.
Anaya is a giver - ( being held at gunpoint ) LISTEN I HAVE REASONING. He loves mangoes. They're sweet and they're tasty and guess what else is? You. He finds it fun to undress you himself, it's like a little present waiting for him in the nest if he knows you're waiting for him. It's like peeling a mango. Absolutely a treat for him to go down on you and he's the one that will either take his time to get you to moan for him or go to absolute oblivion to get you to cum faster because he wants to have more of your juices against his tongue. That isn't to say that he's not into receiving either because ohhhhh boy is that fun. Anaya is probably a stiff Ape the entire time though, at least the first few rounds where it takes place. He's not sure where to put his hands, what to think about having your mouth wrapped around such a sensitive organ, but once he finally wills himself to look down at you and the way that your mouth spread against him it was all over and he was wild to lift his hips up and takes refuge in the gag that you give him. But, Anaya notices you don't pull away immediately and he does it again, garnering him another gag. He is a big praiser and will mutter to you how great you're doing while you've got him in his mouth. Tells you shakily that he was so afraid the first time that you were going to bite it off but now that you're bringing him nothing but pleasure, he's quick to compliment, knowing it an Echo way that it makes you feel good about yourself.
Koba is a receiver and there is nothing about giving that he'd really be willing to admit ( Other than getting to taste you, but c'mon... Your scent alone was enough for him at times, he couldn't imagine going so feral that he needed to taste it. ) Probably has tasted it once or twice before by accident and it caused him to go haywire. Koba has never been enthralled to do it though, and if he ever did, it would be incredibly teeth forward even if you tell him otherwise. He knows how sharp his canines are, even the blunted teeth in the front and he'd surely use them to torture you or get you to beg him to stop and just rail into you instead. He is heavy in receiving from you ever so often if the mood calls for it. Only when Koba is resting, hunched and crouched over and you're between his legs, struggling to get yourself situated as he slides himself into your mouth, hard and fast. He's quick to grab the back of your head and essentially mouth fuck you to the point where you feel his seed running down the back of your throat and coating inside of your stomach. This is one of those moments where Koba is intent on watching you. He likes the force your throat has as you swallow, as you pull away with a small cough, but you're still desperate for more as you grasp at his thighs to help leverage your body. Koba is then fast to pin you onto your back, hovering above you menacingly and he can smell his own scent on your breath as you're panting close to his face, his one good eye piercing down your body scrutinizing every crevice and bump. So ugly and unnatural human bodies appeared. Naked, no fur, so sensitive to temperature as he watched your nipples perk with the chill. Koba wanted to destroy it and that's his carnal intent the entire time.
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bullet-prooflove · 1 day
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Chibs
1.lipstick
2.cuffs
3.patch
4. Church table (the giant table with the engraving)
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This did not go the way I expected...
Companion piece to Gunpower & Lead
Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @Kishie8 @nu1freakshow @darqchilddaydreamz @Just-a-girl-who-wrytes
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Chibs doesn’t expect to find you at the table, the one they use for Church. You’re sitting in his seat, your gaze focused on the wooden carving etched into the centre. You look like a queen, lost in thought, pondering a problem.
It’s rare that you enter this space, despite being matriarch. Your battlefield is the courtroom, you leave club business to them unless they require legal expertise. He’s been gone a couple days, on a trip down to Santo Padre, the calls between the two of you have been sparse. He’d thought that you were caught up in one of your cases but now he can see it’s something else, something much more problematic.
“Alright love?” He asks as he strips off his gloves from the ride, tucking them into the back pocket in his jeans. His leans over, his lips brushing over the apple of your cheek so that he doesn’t smear your lipstick.
“They found some bones out in the woods a few days ago.” You tell him, your fingertips rapping lightly on the surface of the table. “There’s a rumour that it had a metal plate in it’s left arm.”
The air seems to leave the room and his chest constricts. He sits down in Tig’s seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That body you’re talking about, it’s your ex-husband, the one you killed because he almost killed you. He’d had the prospects take care of the disposal, Ratboy and Miles before the two of them were patched in. He doesn’t understand, the body should have been cremated…
Then he remembers the scandal a couple of months later, the cremator had been broken and Skeeter had been storing the bodies out back. He’d tried burying a couple in the beginning he’d told the police when the discovery was made but it had become too much work when they kept piling up. It’s why they’d stopped using him.
Your ex, he must have been one of them.
“In the next few days they’re going to identify the body and then they’re going to come knocking on our door.” You tell him, adjusting the cuffs of your silk blouse. “I’ve started to put my affairs in order,  the house and everything else has been transferred into your name…”
“Lassie…” He begins, reaching for you and you squeeze his hand tightly in yours.
“This is the way it has to be.” You say quietly. “If I don’t go in and make a confession, it’ll come down on the club and we can’t have that. You were just cleaning up my mess.”
It feels like he’s burning alive, like someone has tipped a can of petrol over his entire body and lit a match. The agony of this decision it sears through his entire body, he wants to argue, to fight but he can see the resignation in you, he knows it would be like screaming into the wind.
You have to do this, for him, for the club because this thing, it could take them all down.
“When?” He says finally, his voice barely more than a rasp.
“Tomorrow.” You tell him and he knows that you’re giving him one last night together before they take you away in cuffs. “I’ll make my confession to David Hale tomorrow.”
Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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Don't cry over spilled milk ◦ l.f
-Accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe
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Paring◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Mom!Reader Words◦ 1633 Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this was like really angsty and I didn't mean for it to be 😭, definitely fluffy towards the end though Warnings ◦ Kinda points towards the fact that the reader might have been abused, descriptions of the readers father being an asshole, talk about abuse, the term beating black and blue, crying, spilled milk, Felix being sickeningly sweet, overuse of love, descriptions of bad dreams, trauma, bleeding, bad thoughts, and wounds (all these are metaphors). Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222 I hope you like it <33 A/N ◦ this is just something simple and cute I cooked up real fast I didn't really put too much thought into it honestly I just let my brain go also don't judge me but I literally just looked up "cute Korean girl names that mean sunshine" in the search engine and picked the first thing so... P.S the whole teaspoon to die thing is the fact that it only takes a teaspoon to drown so yeah idk seems kinda stupid now that I'm editing it but I'm to lazy to change it Links ◦ Masterlist ◦ Taglist ◦ Rules ◦ Navigation ~cookiecreates 🍪
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You took "Don't cry over spilled milk" very seriously because it took every fiber of your being not to sob when Ha-Yun's glass of milk dropped on Felix's new carpet, throwing a vibrant white stain on the expensive black furnishing. You really don't know how many different adjectives your brain could come up with to describe the horror you felt pounding in your heart.
It was as though this moment was a portal into the deepest caverns of your mind—a key that unlocked a swarm of memories flickering in the back of your brain like fireflies. You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing back the flood of bad feelings that seem to wash over you quicker than you can wipe them away—You're transported back to those days when your head was high and your hands were small, spilling milk on your dad's new carpet. You were so little, so naive, you didn't know that the world wasn't all butterflies and unicorns; that milk stained and dads got mad. You vowed to be the parent who held their baby's hand as they picked it up, smiling when they threw the dirty towel in the trash. 
Accidents happen.
Accidents happen.
Accidents happen.
But you don't know if that's what Felix vowed to do, and with the carpet being 600 dollars, you wouldn't be surprised if he beat the poor girl black and blue.
Just like your dad did. 
Your fingers tremble as you grip the cup in your hands, the world seems to swirl around you, swimming in all your bad dreams. It only took a teaspoon to die and a bad thought to drown. How easy it is to be pulled under the waves when you're vulnerable. You thought you kept the sea at bay, but even the most experienced divers can get pulled into a riptide. 
The cup clatters in the sink, startling you out of your thoughts. Ha-Yun babbles in the corner, throwing cheerios to the ground. This was all your fault; you shouldn't have put her high chair in the living room. 
All your fault.
All your fault.
All your-
The lock clicks.
Your heart drops, plummeting into the grave in which you buried all your pain. You scramble to find something to cover the stain. In all your panic, you forget that shit doesn't magically go away, sticking to your skin like syrup dripping down your spine. Everything was spinning in your vision as your lungs contracted, you wondered if you could really drown in theoretical oceans, especially the ones that occupied your mind.
It all seemed so silly as Felix's frame came into view, like he was made entirely from watercolor pouring down the page. You threw the towel over the mess, attempting to conceal your sobs.
Maybe he'll walk away.
Maybe he's too tired to notice.
Maybe you can spare his wrath.
“Love,” Felix's deep voice floats into your ears like cotton candy disintegrating under the waves of words you drown in. Scars were never promises on the skin; the human body is a delicate chemistry, and with the right motivation, it can crumble.
You snap. Break apart. Succumb to the river of sentences that stuck to your skin, like honey and glass. Time heals all wounds, but what about the ones that never scar, never scab? What about the ones whose vile words poisoned the flesh, eating away at your soul? Time doesn't heal all wounds because sometimes wounds are just too deep. Strong arms wrap around your huddled frame, your face drawn to your knees. 
“I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." you sob mindlessly, it was as though your younger self control—caught in a weird form of fight or flight—dissociating from reality.
“Sorry? Sorry for what, love?” He whispers, dropping to the floor and pulling you onto his lap. He's so gentle, so calm, so completely opposite of any love you have ever felt or any father you have ever seen.
"Milk-" You choke; your words getting caught in your throat. You dig your face into his shoulder. "She spilled the milk on the carpet. I'm so sorry." The tears keep coming as though you're bleeding all the emotions you had kept under wraps for too long; it was like an infection, and Felix's loving arms cleansed your wounds.
"Oh, love," he coos, petting your hair, "didn't anybody ever tell you not to cry over spilled milk." You can't help but chuckle, a weird mix between a sniffle and a sob. 
You must look like such a wreck right now—face blotchy and red, snot dripping down your nose, tears pouring down your cheeks—you look like you just crawled out of the pits of hell, and he still looks at you like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.
In that moment, you feel so silly, so stupid, kinda wanting to crawl back into the pits of hell from which you came. You should have known he wasn't going to react the way your father had. Felix was nothing like the man; he was kind, he was gentle, he was all sunshine and smiles, he was safe.
"I'm sorry for being such a wreck." You cuddle deeper into his chest, sniffling into his shirt. 
"Never be sorry for being human, and especially, never be sorry for showing me." It took everything in you not to break down again, letting his strong arms hold you while you scrubbed all the syrup from your soul, but you have a baby and a mess on the carpet that will be ten times harder to clean if you leave it sitting.
"I'll go get another towel," you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks.
"Don't," he pulls you back down on his lap, “Put your arms around me.” You lock your hands behind his neck, yelping when he picks you up bridal style.
“What- Felix, what are you doing?” You squeal as he walks you to the couch, laying you gently on the cushions.
“I'm showing you how to clean up spilled milk,” He smirks like you didn't just destroy his 600-dollar carpet; his attitude genuinely baffles you.
"How are you not mad?” You whispered, dazed, your mind turning into mush. He tilts your chin up, peering at you with a soft smile and kind eyes. Your breath hitches, little heart eyes popping in your pupils. 
"Accidents happen, love, you never grow out of’em." You melt, literally disintegrating into a pile of goo on the couch.
"D-Do you, um, D-Do you need help?" You stutter, blinking harshly to try and gather your thoughts. It was as if his gentle heart short-circuited your tangled wires—knotted from years of wear and lack of care. 
"You just sit there and look pretty, and I'll show you why you shouldn't cry over spilled milk." He kisses you softly, smiling on your skin, "Okay, baby," he breathes, passion crackling between your lips, "You just keep-" Ha-Yun screeches, slapping her high chair full of Cheerios. Felix groans, tipping his forehead to touch yours. 
"You know, one of these days we've got to get a babysitter. I don't know how long I can stand just being able to admire my beautiful wife from afar," your cheeks burn as you tilt your head down bashfully, "Well maybe we can do that when milk isn't marinating on the floor," he claps, jumping up from his arched position, "yep, your right, jeez baby, you really know how to pull me away from a task."
You cheese, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face. "Go on," you shoo him away, "You were going to teach me something."
He smirks, walking over to the kitchen, pulling the roll of paper towels off the counter and tossing them down next to the mess, unlocking Ha-Yun's highchair to lift her out of it.
"What are you-"
"Shh sit there and look pretty," The way his eyes sparkle and his lips tilt makes him appear almost mischievous. You sink back into the couch, folding your arms in front of your chest, assessing him intently. Ha-Yun beams when she sees Felix, waving her arms around, spitting gobbly gook.
"Oh is that right, well I couldn't have ever guessed," he nods attentively like she just stated the stages of evolution, "Well, as much as I love this conversation, baby, you are going to need to clean up your mess". He chastises her gently, and she frowns, glaring at him, he lifts his brows in retort.
"You know you've got a lot of sass for a 4-year-old," he grumbles "Probably got it from your momma," he sends you a look, lips curled up in a smirk. Your jaw drops in faux offense.
"You know what-" he puts his finger to his lips, cutting you off.
"Were you this bad in school? Cause the teacher," he gestures to himself, "is teaching."
"I'm gonna-"
"Looking pretty," He singsongs, a smile playing on his lips. You bite your cheek, holding back your glare. He snickers, placing her down next to the milk—putting a paper towel in her tiny hands.
"Can you help daddy clean it up please," he squats down to her level, stretching his fingers over hers. She blinks down at the splattered milk. You can almost see the gears turning in her head when he starts carefully moving her hand back and forth over the mess. 
"See!" he cheers, his eyes glowing with pride, "Accidents happen, you just gotta learn to clean them up."
Watching the scene unfold before you fills you with an obscene form of bliss, like you have achieved one of life's greatest victories—that maybe all dads weren't raging assholes that yelled when you spilled milk because, like Felix said, accidents happen—you never grow out of'em.
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©CookieCreates (posted: June, 26th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.
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freakoont · 3 days
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Hi!!!! Pretty pretty please, could you write a ranpo x reader where reader usually takes care of him because they have a soft spot for him, but ranpo takes them for granted somehow, and they get frustruated and angry. Maybe a little angsty and fluff as well. Im so happy to discover your blog, i really like the way you write for bsd! Sorry for my english, i’m not a native
❝𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!?❞
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ... 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 // 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
【SFW】
GENDER NEUTRAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')
REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for info !
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
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It's easy to say that Ranpo doesn't exactly have manners, and is easily persuaded by his own thoughts and often doesn't think before he speaks when he isn't on the job.
Often, he'll make people feel very dumb. That doesn't change for people he's close with, cough. You.
It's been a good few months since you had joined the Agency, being assigned as Ranpo's lucky assistant. Actually, no, now that you remember it more clearly, you were never assigned this role... It just so happened that during you're early days when you were still a lost noobie, Ranpo.. 'found' you, but not exactly in a positive or negative way.
When it was only you and Ranpo in the building, when everyone had gone to do their own thing, he was whining about being so hungry he'd die! Talk about childish.. and yet, after a while it grew on you.
You offered to go to the nearest convenient store and see if you could find anything, which you did, and after that Ranpo would use your more and more often to retrieve stuff for him, that the title 'Ranpo's lucky assistant' grew on you.
Ranpo didn't seem to care, actually, eventually he'd start to have you help him with cases... And by 'help' it just means you'd buy his train tickets. Basically you were treated like a guinea pig in some ways, even having to give the man piggy back rides when he felt tired.
╰┈➤ ❝Would you call this luck?❞
Actually, it isn't all that bad. Ranpo would always look so happy whenever you walked in the room. Word has it, whenever you weren't around, his head would perk up like a dog on alert at the sound of your name being spoken and he'd always feel so gloomy saying, 'man, I wish (Y/N) was here.' Although, that's probably just Yosano trying to mess with you.
Not to mention he'd always love to eat with you, seeming so glad as he'd get into your space and ask that you 'so kindly feed him like a good assistant' ignoring all the stacks of papers you have to finish.
Some part of you wants to say that he just has a sweet yet naive heart when he's not actually using his brain... And yet...
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
"pfft, don't be stupid. I don't need your little gift," he spoke while pushing your hand away.
For the past few days, you had found yourself growing a different perspective around him.. did you truly like this guy?
Earlier that day, as had been you passing through many stores, there was something in particular that caught your attention. You were a firm believer in luck and gratitude, always wanted it for yourself and others. When you saw basically some five dollar bracelets, there was one in particular that caught your attention.
A small bracelet, a very colorful one, that had little snack charms. It was pretty. It reminded you a lot of Ranpo.
"you don't need to wear it, I was just hoping-"
"you were hoping to give me a little good luck charm." He'd speak up over you with a tone voice that didn't seem completely annoyed but more like he was mocking you. He'd continue to place another chip into his mouth before continuing, "I don't need it. I'm the world's greatest detective after all."
"..i see." You spoke with a feeling of disappointment. "I'll just throw it away then."
Ranpo didn't seem to bat an eye about it as soon as you had left his line of sight that following day.
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
A few days followed and you didn't exactly forget that little item, actually it's disappointing you chose to throw away such a pretty gadget. Slowly the sun hit the inside of your room and you felt this pinging in your head. A strong annoyance, a headache.
Some part of you felt like this headache had to do with how you've been seeing Ranpo lately. One question that's been stuck in your mind, do you seriously regret meeting him? No, that'd be too much to say... But he can be annoying to deal with.
There were even moments where you'd have to step in because he pissed off the wrong person, stopping people from getting their fist in his face... It was always you taking a few verbal hits for him, huh? And he never seemed to mind, always doing it again and again no matter how much you've told him it's wrong.
Maybe you're wrong about your friendship with him.
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
"yo, I'm here." You spoke up while entering the Agency, that strong pinging in your head again. You looked around only to see Ranpo. "Where is everybody?"
"Dazai is skipping, Yosano is in her infirmary, and the rest of them are all on their own errands and cases." Ranpo spoke as he played on his little game console. He perked up at you with a smug grin, "Soo, let me guess. Today's snacks are.."
"actually I don't have anything."
"HUH? WHY?" He immediately jumped in his seat staring at you almost distressed. "I'll die without food y'know!"
"..if you're so hungry then go get yourself something."
"Nonsense!" He laughed out, mocking you in a way. "Last I recall your my lucky assistant, and you promised to get me food every morning."
"I didn't promise you anything, Edogawa."
Ranpo had noticed a sharp tone in your voice, you seemed oddly annoyed, which was different. He then grinned towards you, "Oh I see! Is this about your little gift to-"
".. you're such a pain, Edogawa!" You spoke up which made the man flinch. You definitely noticed that, you've caught him off guard. "Not once have you ever gratitude for what I've done? I know it's not much and maybe I'm being dramatic.. but it'd be nice to get a thank you every and now then? All it feels like is that you look down on me."
"..I'm sorry."
That's all he said which didn't make you an happier. Thats all he can say? Is he serious?
"I'm leaving. I have a bad headache and I don't want to deal with this, let Kunikida know I'm off." You turned on your heels to leave.
"Wait hold up-!" Ranpo immediately followed and grabbed your shoulder. "I said I was sorry!" After he didn't heard you respond and just ignore him, yet waited in your steps to hear if he had anything else to say, he pulled out the bracelet from his pocket. "..the reason I said I didn't need your good luck charm, was because my lucky assistant is what brings me luck."
"..."
"..and thanks."
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gabessquishytum · 18 hours
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Omega!Dream is scared of ruts. When he was young he got very shitty/ sexist sex education and was always told that alphas in rut are uncontrollable and brutal- mindless animals who just want to fuck the nearest warm hole whether you like it or not, and would definitely break a pretty young omega like Dream. Dream grows up thinking there’s nothing more dangerous than an alpha in rut.
Now years later, he’s 18, finally gotten away from his family and is living his own life. He even has an older alpha boyfriend who takes such good care of him. Hob is so kind and good to him, and the sex has been great, as far as Dream is concerned everything is perfect.
Then Hob mentions off-handedly that his rut is coming up and Dream nearly faints. He had totally forgotten about that, and all his old fears come rushing back. Hob is a lot bigger and stronger than him, he could probably break Dream in half!! Hob is usually so careful with him but Dream is positive all of that will go out the window once his rut hits.
But… Hob is his partner. He can’t leave him alone for it, and it’s not like it’d be Hob’s fault if he hurt him. As his omega it’s his duty to take care of his alpha during his rut, right? Even if his legs are shaking all the way to the bedroom. (Hob tried to talk to him about why he was so nervous, but Dream was tight lipped, and so Hob assumed it was just some residual anxiety about sharing a rut with someone for the first time. He knows it’s a big deal to some people.)
So they’re in bed, cuddled up together, Hob’s temperature slowly rising and Dream trying not to tremble with fear. Then Hob gets hard… and starts begging.
Dream is stunned silent as Hob asks- begs, pleads- for Dream to touch him, for Hob to taste his slick, to knot Dream and make him feel good. He starts humping at Dream and nuzzling his scent glands, but doesn’t go any farther since Dream hasn’t answered. He whines, burying his nose in Dream’s neck as he starts jerking himself off. He’s a little teary eyed, and obviously desperate, but he never gets mad or pushy with Dream. Just begs in between babbling about how good Dream smells and how perfect he is.
So Dream hesitantly reaches out, starts touching Hob and when he hears his boyfriend moan he finds his confidence growing quickly. It’s not actually that different than when they normally have sex, other than Hob being more flushed and desperate. As the night continues, Dream actually finds himself feeling strangely… powerful. Hob is a whining drooling mess, fully losing himself to pleasure and hormones, and yet Dream still has him wrapped around his finger. If Dream says ‘stop’ Hob absolutely freezes. If Dream says ‘come’ Hob slurs out a thank you. He’s so good for Dream the whole time, and Dream is surprisingly able to lose himself in his own pleasure, too.
Days later, when they’re both fucked out and Hob’s head has cleared, they’ll take a bath together and Dream will shyly ask about how ruts work- after all, maybe this was a fluke, or it’s just a Hob thing? (It’s not, and Hob feels so so bad that Dream had been scared, but they reassure each other and talk through it. And Dream is already excited for Hob’s next rut.)
-🦇
I love love love submissive and gentle alphas and this is so cute!!!!
I love the idea of Dream getting more confident as he experiences more of Hob’s ruts. With encouragement and practice he's really able to help Hob through them by taking on a more dominant role, which honestly feels so good! The best part is that Hob obviously loves it - he totally melts when Dream praises him, gives him orders, rewards his good behaviour and even takes care of him by keeping him clean and hydrated. Hob is feeling so fulfilled, he even tells Dream that he's never had a better rutting experience in his whole life. It's great for Dream’s self esteem, and it brings them closer together.
Dream even learns that Hob actually gets a big craving to be fucked during his ruts (particularly when he's oversensitive from knotting so many times). Dream is shocked but only too pleased to buy a strap-on so he can give his alpha exactly what he needs. Hob is so good, he deserves the nicest things. And while it's a little sad that Dream’s sex education was SO bad, he's very very pleased that it was all bullshit and that he'll never have to fear his sweet alpha's rut ever again <3
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azzifudd · 24 hours
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was able to get through the paywall!☺️
WEST SPRINGFIELD — When UConn women’s basketball player Azzi Fudd first tore her right anterior cruciate ligament in the summer of 2019, she struggled through the physical and mental toll she faced during her recovery.
Despite the pain she endured to get back onto the court - or maybe because of that experience - Fudd remembers barely being fazed when she tore her right ACL for a second time.
“My reaction shocked me,” Fudd said on Saturday at Hooplandia. “I thought for sure I would just cry. The first time I was a mess, I cried, I was so sad. (But) when it happened this time, I felt like I kind of knew.
“I’ve been working the last few years on the mental side of the game, working on my mindset, my confidence, my self-talk... so I was like ‘Ok, I’ve been through this before, I know how big the mental aspect is - what am I going to do to help myself get through it this time and handle it a lot better than I did in high school’ because I didn’t handle it well. So when it happened (again), I was really upset, but I didn’t let myself go down that rabbit hole of what could’ve been if I was healthy.”
But even her stronger mental approach could not lessen the most difficult factor of recovery: the wait.
“Surgery was fine, all that was fine. It’s harder halfway through the season when I’ve been sitting through games, I’ve been cheering, I’ve been positive,” Fudd said. “And then it hits you, like, 10 games of just sitting on the bench cheering (and realizing) ‘I still have so many more games to sit here and cheer and still not play/’
“It’s definitely really tough, (the wait is) one of the harder things that people don’t talk about.”
Fudd stressed how important her physical rehabilitation process was in helping her regain trust in her body.
“Do your rehab, it’s so important,” Fudd said.
“I lived, ate, breathed my rehab and when it was time to come back, everyone was like, ‘Did you have doubts, did you think you were going to tear it again’, I didn’t have any doubts... because I knew all the hard work that I put in (during) my rehab process so I knew how strong my leg was, I knew what I was capable of doing because I did so much to prepare myself.”
Basketball was the driving force behind Fudd’s determination during this process and finding that reason can make all the difference.
“At the end of the day, I love basketball and that’s what I wanted to keep doing, that was my purpose behind my rehab,” Fudd said. “Some people, they might be done playing basketball, but they still want to rehab, whether it’s to play a different sport, to be a singer, to be a dancer - you’re still rehabbing for a reason. Remember what that reason is, it doesn’t have to be basketball anymore, it can be something else, but just find that reason and keep going.”
Thank you!!
Aww Azzi, it sucks obviously that she had to go through it again, but it seems like she knew her mentality had to be and was going to be different this time around. She let herself be upset, but not to the point where she spiraled about 'what could've been.' Which is what she said at that summit a few months ago too. 100% makes sense that just sitting and waiting to play again was one of the hardest parts, Paige struggled with that too. Even when you're trying to be positive and cheer for your teammates. I hope she's really able to come back confident in her body. You really gotta be a different breed mentally to be a pro athlete and not just wanna quit lol
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thebestsetter · 9 hours
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Thinking about Isagi Yoichi, the hero of Japan and biggest egoist on the field, being a complete loser when it comes to the girl he likes.
Like, he may insult the opposing team's players (and even his own teammates sometimes!) in the field, but gets all red and stutters when he needs to talk to you.
Isagi Yoichi who is absolutely delusional. If he holds a conversation with you for more than 5 minutes, you can bet he's gonna think about it during THE WHOLE WEEK. His friends can't escape his feelings either: he's always talking about you or associating things with you. Like: "Oh, she would like this!" Or "You guys won't believe it: we talked for almost 10 minutes today!" Please save Hiori and Bachira. They can't take it anymore. (Well, Bachira doesn't really care, but Hiori is really almost losing his shit.)
This absolute dork would listen to love songs while thinking about you and then get all blushy after, hugging a pillow while stuffing his red face on it and everything. And heaven forbids anyone enters his room after you compliment him! He's kicking his feet, screaming, crying and laughing all at the same time. SPECIALLY if it's a compliment regarding his football abilities. Say something along the lines of "That goal today was amazing, Yoichi! It was such a smart play!" and he's melting and thinking about it through the whole month.
Speaking of football, he'd LOVE to see you in his soccer games/practices cheering loudly for him. I mean, he's already absolutely smitten for you, but seeing you there screaming because of his goal or smiling because of a play he made just makes his obsession love for you grow 10 times bigger!!
He'd even ask his mom for advice on what to say to you! She thinks it's cute her little boy is growing up (even though he's already 17), so she tries to help him the best she can. But there's just so much mama can do. He tries to follow her teachings, but, as I said before, always stutters and trips over his words, which makes him feel really stupid and almost give up on love, since it's a "very hard and painful feeling that just hurts people" (his words).
When he finally musters up the courage to ask you out on a date (after a lot of insistence from Hiori, who is just really tired from all of this), he wants it all to go perfect. He has it all pictured in his head: he'll ask you to meet him in the back of the school after extracurricular activities so he can ask you out. He'll have flowers and everything, and then he'll say that speech he spent the last 14 days memorizing. You'll say yes with a smile in you face (he's already blushing just from imagining your smile, he really is down bad) and then you'll live your happilly ever after together.
Spoiler alert: nothing went as planned. First, the letter he wrote asking you to meet him in the back of the school got wet because he accidentally spilt water on it. So, he had to make a half-assed substitute letter to put in your desk.
Second, he forgot soccer leaves people all stinky. So, at the end of practice, he had to choose between taking a shower and showing up all drenched and late and showing up sweaty and smelly. He choose the former, after all, showing up late but presentable is better than showing up early but looking like you got shit on by a racoon.
Third, when he finally got there (you were almost leaving, thank God he caught you just in time!) and apologized for being late, he gave you the flowers. He thought nothing else could ho wrong, but things can always get worse than they already are. But I don't blame him for not knowing this: how could he know there were literally bees in the flowers? To get rid of them, he tried to shook the bouquet, but accidentally ended up throwing it at your face. With bees and all.
You screamed. He screamed. He grabbed the bouquet and shoved it away, looking at the ground and wishing it'd just swallow him whole. He messed up his chance, you'd never ever even look at his way again. You hated him, absolutely hated him. You wish he was dead, you were going to change schools just to never see him again, he's the worse person ever-
Huh? What is that sound? You're laughing...? You're seriously laughing?
You laughed. He got confused.
He looked up. You were throwing your head back while wiping away the tears that got out of your eyes. You were clutching your stomach because you were laughing so hard it was starting to hurt.
You laughed. He laughed.
You both looked like maniacs. Lunatics. Laughing alone in the middle of nowhere. You looked crazy he WAS crazy. Crazy for you. Not that you knew it at that time
He then decided to just shoot his shot and finally asked you out, without flowers or memorized speech. He didn't even think you'd accept, he just thought it wouldn't hurt to try.
Imagine his face when you said yes. Even with the shitty proposal and embarassing moments, you said yes. And he was absolutely delighted. You gave him your number so he could text you the details about the date, and he was seriously shaking. I'm being for real, his pupils were blown wide and he was almost crying from happiness.
He went home jumping and skipping from happiness. Now, he wasn't just a loser. He was a loser with a date, so that makes him less loserly (at least that's what he thinks).
You accepting his proposal didn't make him talk less about you. Actually, he was now talking about you more than before, if it's even possible. Hiori felt like killing himself (he was happy for his friend, of course, he just didn't want to admit).
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Text
(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)
• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader
• Genre: fluff, a bit of angst
• Warnings: describing birthing (not super detailed)
Daughter
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*
-Levi’s Pov-
I was already up and preparing breakfast when (Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes tired and yawning loudly. „Good morning Levi“, she mumbled and sat down at the table.
I supported myself on the kitchen sideboards, limped over to my pregnant wife and placed a kiss on her head. „Good morning you two.“
She hummed with closed eyes and rubbed her big belly. „Baby kicks just like you.“ I couldn’t help but chuckle. „It’s my baby after all.“ I placed my hand that wasn’t supporting my weight softly on her belly.
„Out of all qualities it could have gotten from you I really hoped it wouldn’t be your kicks“, she sighs dramatically and leans further back in the chair. I grabbed one of the other chairs that stood around the table and sat down in front of (Y/n) who had her eyes closed again, obviously exhausted from the long night.
„You’re not even born yet and already causing mommy sleepless nights?“ I spoke as I leaned further down until my face was in front of her belly. „Believe me, she’s way more pleasant when she slept well.“
For that I’ve earned a light slap on the head, causing another chuckle to leave my lips. Then I leaned up again and placed a kiss on my wife’s lips.
The amount of love I felt for this little rascal that wasn’t even born yet was overwhelming and sometimes left me scared.
„What if they don’t like me?“, I mumbled one of my many concerns against (Y/n)s soft lips. „Don’t be stupid“, she responded. „Our child is going to love you.“ And then placed another reassuring kiss on my lips.
But I wasn’t convinced. „I never had a father, I don’t even know how that works.“ (Y/n) wanted to say something but I just continued. „What if they’re scared of my scars? What if I can’t show my love enough? What if“ (Y/n) shut me up with a loud Shhhh and placed her hands on my cheeks. „Our baby is going to love you“, she repeated, not leaving any room for complaints.
„It’s time we talk about a potential godfather or godmother, don’t you think?“, she switched the topic while she stood up and grabbed herself a cup to pour some tea in it. I responded with a nod and said: „I nominate Armin.“
I could basically hear how her (e/c) eyes rolled. „It’s not a voting Levi“, she answered with a chuckle. „I know. I’m just messing with you“, I responded with a slight smirk. „Still Armin.“
(Y/n) nodded in agreement, her face decorated with the biggest, warmest smile that she always had when we planned anything related to the baby. „I thought about him too. He is so gentle and responsible. I’m pretty sure he will be so happy.“
„He’s least likely to drop the baby.“
The noise that came from my wife was made from the cup which she placed loudly on the cupboard again. „Levi!“
„I’m just saying what we both were thinking. They’re all just big ass kids, no way I’m leaving a fragile little human in their sweaty meathooks.“ I didn’t see the towel coming that flew in my direction and landed right on my face. While I pouted, acting like I was pissed, (Y/n) knew I was messing with her again and started to laugh so loud and long that I almost thought she would choke on her own voice.
Even though we planned everything thoroughly, the day the baby came still felt somehow chaotic. (Y/n) was a mess, I was a mess, everything was a mess.
It was morning when the water broke. I was reading the newspaper and watched the people through the window going to work, taking a walk, whatever normal people do, when suddenly (Y/n) started to whine. It was like a howl, painful and scared. My head turned and I saw her supporting herself on the doorframe to our bathroom in which she went seconds before.
I stood up and got to her as fast as I could, not paying attention to my crutch leaning against the table. It would only get in my way (like always).
„(Y/n)!“, I yelled, clueless what I could do instead. When I was beside her I could see the puddle on the floor. I hoped my fight or flight response would activate itself, like it did on the battlefield, but it didn’t. Instead I stood there with a horrified expression and looked at her. After a few seconds of brain-loss I caught myself again and wrapped my arms around her waist, which was kind of useless when I look back at it. „Come on, let’s get you in the bedroom.“
I had to let go of her immediately since I was no help for her with my broken leg, which I despised even more in this moment, and walked slowly behind her through the hallway into our bedroom.
The thick bedsheets that our midwife gave us where placed next to the bed, waiting for their time. I quickly spread them on the mattress on which (Y/n) sat down right after.
„Breath“, I reminded her (more myself to be honest) and took her hands in mine. For a second the world went quiet.
It’s happening. I am going to be a father very soon.
I quickly got rid of my sentimental thought and limped to the window, which I opened quickly and started to scan the streets, hoping I would see one of the brats.
„Oi!“ I yelled and immediately Armins head popped out of nowhere.
„Yes sir?“ I saw how his hand twitched, still tempted to salute. I‘m starting to believe he will never get used to not saluting.
„Get the nurse!“ I yell and a mix of horror and happiness appears on Armins face. „It’s time?“, he asks to which I nod. „Obviously!“ I yell even louder and watch him with an expecting look.
He took way too long for my liking to find out of his shock, but eventually he started to run to get the nurse while yelling „The baby‘s coming! The baby’s coming!“
I turned back around to face (Y/n) and watched how she shifts in bed to lie on her back. I walked up to her and sat next to her on the mattress.
„She‘ll be here any moment“, I reassured her while taking her hand in mine and waiting for the sound of the front door opening. After what felt like hours, but were probably not even minutes, the door swung open and our midwife, happy as ever, stepped inside the room.
„Well look at that!“, she calls out. „Looks like baby’s ready to see the world her parents made.“
She often told us how honored she was to work with us and she often tended to exaggerate a bit.
She made her way around the bed and asked (Y/N) to help her take off her underwear. She handed me the wet panty, which I quickly discarded on the floor, no way would I crawl away from my wife to tidy up right now.
The nightgown was pushed up over (Y/N)s thighs while the midwife took a look between her legs. „Yep, baby is in a hurry. I can already see the head.“
(Y/N) squeezed my hand tighter. „I’m scared“, she mumbled. I let go of her hand so I could wrap my arm around her. „Me too“, I whispered when she lied in my arms, grabbing my other hand.
„You ready to push momma?“, the nurse asked to which (Y/N) laughed a forced laugh. „I don’t have that much of a choice now, do I?“
A few hours of screaming and crying passed until a different cry cut through the air.
A light, but strong scream.
„There she is“, the nurse announced and took a towel in which she wrapped our child after cutting the umbilical cord. „A beautiful little girl.“
(Y/N) stretched out her arms, silently demanding the woman to give her the tiny being. Once she held our daughter in her arms she fell exhausted against my chest again.
Too stunned to speak I looked at the little human in her arms, looking just as exhausted as her mother.
(Y/N)s struggles weren’t over yet, since the placenta had to come out too, but after that was managed, the nurse gave us some time to ourselves while she would prepare some tea and something to eat.
Thankful for both, the peace and the fact that she would make something for us I nodded and watched how she closed the door behind her.
„She’s beautiful“, (Y/N) whispered. „Yeah“, I answered. „Just like her mother.“
I earned a tired smile from my wife and felt how she rested her head against my shoulder. „Do you want to hold her?“, she asked after a while.
„Of course!“ I said way too excited but got hesitant right after my statement. „But what if I do something wrong?“
„You won’t“, (Y/N) reassured me. „Take off you shirt.“ She giggled at my confused look. „Skin to skin“, she simply said and I remembered what the nurse told us. It’ll help bonding.
So I quickly got rid of my T-Shirt and then took my daughter as gently as possible into my hands. Her head was supported by my biceps and her little hand reached out and touched my chest lightly.
In awe I studied her face. The tiny eyes, the even tinier nose, her sweet cheeks and her lips that I just knew would carry the most warming smile the world would ever see.
(Y/N)s hand sneaked on our daughters stomach, not ready to give up every last bit of skin contact.
Suddenly my eyes filled with tears and my heart felt like it was about to burst from this immense and intense love I felt when I looked at my baby.
„If this is what the war was for“, I whispered with a shaky voice. „Then I would do it all again.“ The tears that at first just lingered in my eyes now streamed down my face. „Every last bit of it. I would do it all again for her.“
I glanced at (Y/N) and saw how she nodded, knowing exactly what I meant and knowing she would do the same.
„You still like the name Mary?“ I asked her to which I earned another nod. „Yes. But to be honest, she looks more like a Mary Isabel, don’t you think?“
My already endless stream of tears just got worse. Mary Isabel. (Y/N)s tears fell on my shoulder while we stood silent in agreement.
„Mary Isabel Ackerman“, I mumble after a while, my chest filled with love and pride. „My daughter.“
And suddenly I knew what peace felt like.
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mumms-the-word · 3 days
Text
I know it’s been ten years but honestly? Super spoilery dragon age thoughts under the cut, mostly about Solas (you are warned)
I’m a bit sad people jumping on the Dragon Age train won’t necessarily get to experience the absolute roller coaster of realizing who Solas is. Like playing DAI for the first time and talking to him and befriending him or romancing him (if you so choose) only for that banger of an ending and then Trespasser later?
It’s a whole experience. I honestly wish I could do it all over again for the first time and seeing everything new
I romanced Solas as my very first DAI romance and I was UNPREPARED for the ending. I thought I had messed up the romance at first (I thought the same thing with Anders too after his endgame actions). I had to take a minute and feel my feelings and just sit with my mouth open. Not just at the whole disappearance thing, but the cheeky little post-credits scene
I wasn’t even that mad tbh I was just like amazed at the storytelling. I know that’s me-specific though
When my SIL started playing the games she went in spoiler-free and she asked me my recommendation for romances. I asked what she was playing and she said a Dalish elf, so I said “you have the most romance options possible, but I think you’d enjoy Cullen, because he’s sweet and you liked Alistair, or Solas, because he’s interesting and I know you like good character arcs”
She chose to go with Solas and my brother texted me later like “Lol you’re mean” and I texted back “honestly you only get to experience that final Solas reveal for the first time once and I truly believe it’s best done in a romance with him”
My SIL finished the game with a broken heart lol BUT she agrees with me that it was a good way to play the game for the first time. Going in blind and experiencing all those scenes for the first time through the lens of someone who trusts and perhaps even loves Solas.
For the record, she loves Solas as much as I do now lol
I get that DATV, formerly called Dreadwolf, was always going to be focused on Solas. We knew that at the end of Trespasser. But I do kinda hate that new fans might be coming in with the knowledge that Solas is just The Bad Guy or he’s the villain of the next game, and it might make them trust him less in DAI. Mostly because I think people these days are quick to judge and dismiss characters, and if they think they already know them, they won’t want to change their minds.
I’m probably overthinking it. But it is a little sad to me that all the marketing for DATV spoils the endings for the DAI. That’s all I guess
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