#but people have always grown up! none of us would be here if people were new to growing up

[hecatesbroom]

On a slightly more hopeful note: this means that half the people who were born did make it to adulthood: they grew up! And the people who grew up are the ones that raised us, our parents, our great-great-great-great-great grandparents. They stumbled through life and learned some things along the way, and maybe passed it along to their children — if their children survived, and weren't too stubborn to learn from their (incredibly annoying, I'm sure) parents.

We're not new to being people. We have been people, people who grow old, for a very long time, and history reflects this. In my country, we have houses for old men and women (predecessors to homes for the elderly) dating back as far as the 16th century. Before then? Almshouses for the poor elderly — going back all the way to the 13th century. Some guilds even took care to ensure some kind of retirement for their older members. People haven't just always made it to adulthood, they've become old in the process — and there have always been people who tried to take care of them. Because even by the time humanity reached the 13th century, they weren't new to the concept of growing up or growing old.

We get a lot of stuff about growing up wrong because we're human! Living beings make mistakes, we grow and learn, and every single person has to start from scratch when they're born. We mess up because we, as individual people, are new — and the fact that Adelaide from 1267 AD aged to the ripe old age of 92 in an almshouse and discovered all the secrets about growing up (and growing old) while poor 4-year-old Winifred died of the plague in 1347, was never going to help little Sarah in 2024 make less mistakes. Our worlds barely even compare at this point.

The statistics about child mortality are incredibly sad, but we would've made all the same mistakes regardless of how many people throughout history made it to adulthood. Because guess what? We all have one thing in common: we're people. And people all have to find things out for themselves.

Remember, history was awful. Never trust the romantics.

[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[scudslut]

ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3

Heartsease

Daryl x f!reader

Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish

Daryl was never one to keep still.

It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.

You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.

The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.

He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.

Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.

And you saw all of that.

You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.

Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.

That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.

To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.

Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.

His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.

He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.

You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.

It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.

You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.

You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."

Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.

Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.

"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.

"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"

You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.

"No, I just- I wanna try something."

He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.

You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.

He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.

He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.

"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.

"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.

You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.

He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.

Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.

When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.

Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.

"Dar." You press.

You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.

"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"

A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.

"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-

He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.

Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.

He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.

You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.

[hannieehaee]

18 + / mdi

content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, creampie, etc.

part 1

wc: 2410

a/n: ppl rlly liked my first gyu x idol!reader fic so i decided to make a pt. 2! im working on a long fic for idol!gyu x idol!reader rn (its a diff universe from this one tho hehe) which should be out this month <3

masterlist

it's been a bit hard.

dating an idol as an idol would really seem like the ideal situation, except when it wasn't.

yeah, you had been absolutely ecstatic upon finding out mingyu had been carrying a torch for you for years. you had felt the same, only ever entertaining your other friends' flirting out of mere desperation for the man to finally notice you. after he suddenly blew up, declaring his love for you, you thought it'd just be smooth sailing from here, except you hadn't really thought much past that.

maybe you were being unreasonable. i mean, you had never dated a fellow idol before! maybe it was all in your head. or maybe you just weren't too used to the dynamic just yet. you weren't too sure. but you had no idea how much longer you could take watching mingyu flirt his way through life anymore.

fans, staff, other idols, male or female, you name it. mingyu simply had an overly flirtatious demeanor towards absolutely everyone. you, personally, always kept a very clear line in fan service, or any other type of flirtatious scenarios (sans your previous attempts to make mingyu jealous). mingyu did not afford you the same courtesy, consistently following requests to call fans his girlfriends and even going as far as initiating the flirting in both fancalls and physical fan meetings. okay, maybe this was something you could put up with. these interactions were very short lived, so they never went too out of hand, but these were not his only offenses.

you looked past the flirting with idols, chalking it up to being played up for the cameras for entertainment purposes. you looked away whenever it went far enough to have fans speculating online. you knew idols were professionals at delivering fan service, always wanting to give people something to talk about. hell, you did it too! this was a bit annoying to watch, but you trusted your boyfriend and your idol colleagues, so you let it slide. it was other things that were harder to look past.

was there any need for him to flirt up a storm among all the female staff members? he was behind the scenes, for fucks sake! there were no cameras nor any benefit from entertaining their giggles and subtle touches of his muscles as they pretended to be interested in what he was saying. you knew your boyfriend probably didn't realize that he was flirting, having simply grown too used to doing it that it was second nature to him by now, but it was still frustrating! specially when no one knew that mingyu was taken. as far as any of his staff members knew, mingyu was still just your best friend, and any sighting of the two of you together (always accompanied by another member of the 97s or a fellow group mate of his to avoid suspicion) was always assumed to be strictly platonic. even now, as you walked into his dressing room, only to find his stylist - and a few of the members' stylists - flocking around him as he told some stupid joke that probably wasn't even funny.

it was sickening, really. the way none of them saw how desperate they came off. how none of them realized that if they all flirted with him at once, it truly had no effect, as he wouldn't pay special attention to any of them in particular. you felt like a hater, but being real, you were starting to become one. you watched him for a good five minutes, wondering if he'd ever notice your presence from across the room. when he did, he immediately went over to you, cutting off any of the girls who had been flirting with him in favor of welcoming you. he was amicable, giving you a simple hug. but his eyes told a different story. anyone who knew mingyu knew those eyes were reserved for his loved ones. that made you calm down a bit, even hugging him back and daring a short peck on the cheek.

today was yet another shoot at the hybe building. you had the fortune of belonging to the same company as your boyfriend, which meant you could stop by whenever you wanted (as long as you kept a low profile). you'd often drag jungkook along with you for appearances' sake, but had decided to go solo today. gyu was clearly happy to see you, interrupting his stylists to take a quick breather with you, heading over to one of the empty changing rooms and finally indulging you with less platonic affection.

"baby! wasn't expecting you today?", despite that, he was clearly enthusiastic to see you, attached to you like a magnet now that he had locked the door behind you, making sure no one was around to see his affections towards you.

"yeah, clearly ..." you couldn't help but grumble, disconnecting yourself from him.

mingyu didnt give you much of a chance to create distance between you, immediately holding onto you again, this time by wrapping his arms around your waist, yours instinctively leaning against his hard chest.

"baby, what's wrong? what do you mean?", a pout made its way to his face. of course he was unsuspecting. the mingyu you knew was far too into you to ever seriously hit on someone else when he had you.

you responded with a sigh, "mingyu, do you have to flirt with every girl you meet?"

"w-what? what are you talking about?"

"did you seriously not notice all those girls giggling at every word you said? they all want you, gyu. and you never put a stop to it."

"i dont .. the stylists? baby, ive never flirted with anyone in our staff, what? i work with them, of course i'm nice, but its always strictly platonic, you know that."

"the fact that you dont even realize it!", you separated yourself from him again, facing away and crossing your arms across your chest like a petulant child.

"baby ..."

"no, gyu. i'm not in the mood. i came to see you, but again, you're hitting on some other girl."

he wrapped his arms around you for the third time now, pulling your back to his chest as he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck. he was trying to break you down before you even managed to get fully angry at him

"princess, i'm sorry. i swear i didnt realize i was doing it. i- im just too friendly, i guess. why would i wanna flirt with anyone when i have you right here, hmm?", the kisses he began leaving along your neck did not help matters. he knew your weak points.

"forgive me, baby? please? don't want any of them. i'll tell them. i'll tell everyone, okay?"

"gyu ..." you whined, but still angled your neck for hin to keep kissing, leaning against his hold.

"yeah, pretty? i'll tell the whole world. it's just you for me," he paused, letting out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head, "it's kinda funny, though. now you know how i felt any time the boys would flirt with you."

"gyu! how is it my fault they liked me? and i only flirted with jungkook one time before we were ever together."

"and? still hated seeing you with anyone else. you're mine. you've always been."

he turned you around then, holding you close to him as he looked into your eyes. he smiled at you, kissing your nose before chuckling at your whines of annoyance at him. even when you wanted to be mad at him you couldnt. he'd always turn the situation around and swoon you somehow.

"let me show you, baby? show you that you're mine? maybe we can show those mean mean stylists too, huh?", okay, he was just teasing you now, lips drawn way too close to yours as he ran his hands up and down your back.

"gyu ..." you whined, making no effort to actually pull away.

"you'll let me. won't you, baby?" his eyes were glued to your lips, in a similar fashion to your own. you knew he could tell how badly you wanted him to close the gap, but you refused to make the first move. then he'd win. he'd be the voice of reason, which was something you just couldn't have.

"c'mon baby, just kiss me. you know you wanna. dont you wanna show them ill all yours? maybe leave your lipstick print all over my face for them to clean up? give me a hickey to- hmph!"

you had to shut him up eventually. he was driving you crazy. but he was also right. knowing you could make a statement about your relationship without actually having to explicitly say anything about it sounded too good to pass up, so you might've gone a little extra nastier with your kissing, running your lips all over his mouth, letting your tongue do all the work for you. mingyu had no complaints, even turning pliant under your touch.

huh.

he wanted you to be jealous, didnt he? he mightve not flirted on purpose, but now that he knew you were jealous he mustve felt some type of ... pride? at knowing how badly you wanted him to be yours and yours only. well. in that case, you were gonna give it to him.

you're not sure how it happened, but you ended up sitting on him, both your shirts thrown off as you ground on his lap as he sat back on the couch. the lower part of his face, along with part of his neck, were covered in lipstick stains, matching the smudged red along your own lips. you had left a few hickeys (okay, maybe five) on his chest area, not wanting to make the stylists work too difficult. the are with most damage, however, had been his hair, as you had messed it up in all directions possible through your incessant pulling. his hairstylists might have had complaints, but mingyu sure didnt have any. he kept moaning and sighing against your lips, hands guiding your hips from the moment you sat down on him.

"baby ... give me more ... please," you didnt blame him for growing frustrated at the lack of action. you yourself felt like you were at the precipice of pleasure, just needing to sit on him to find the way to your climax.

you helped him lower his pants enough to free his cock, playing with it for a bit before allowing it to slip under your skirt, panties shoved to the side in favor of creating a safe passage for his dick. you couldnt help the loud whine of pleasure you let out at the intrusion, feeling accompanied by mingyu and his own groan.

"gyu! shit ... feel so good- so big ..."

"i know, baby ... so pretty n so tight for me ... how could i ever want anyone else when i have my pretty girl so perfect for me. hole so wet and needy ..."

you cried at his words, speeding up as you angled yourself back to allow your clit to grace against him, making your eyes roll back even more.

"that's it, pretty. gonna cum for me? gonna let me fill you up, beautiful? that'll- fuck ... that'll show them who i belong to, huh? all yours, baby. just like y- you're all mine."

"yours! gyu, fuck! y- yours!"

"and im yours, baby. dont forget."

he kept poisoning at you from below, dragging your hips so you'd bounce up and down at a pace that had your toes curling. he always knew how to fuck you in ways that had your mind going completely blank, like right now. neither of you paid mind to the dressing room next door that was full of staff who could likely hear your muffles whines against each other's lips. you relished on it, even, knowing that once you walked back in the room they'd know who mingyu really belonged to.

"cum, baby. need you to cum so i c- shit ... so i can fill you up."

"almost there, gyu, just ... fuck! just like that! i'm cumming! gyu!"

"yeah, shit. gonna fill you up now, okay, baby? want you to keep it all in. show them im yours, yeah?", his hips never slowed down despite being you being on top. you were now just a rag doll he was using for his own pleasure. nothing had ever felt this good.

he filled you up soon after, with most of it spilling out due to the massive size of his load. he used his fingers to push it back in, then lifting them to your lips for you to lick clean, which you did with no complaint.

"oh, baby ... my nasty girl. how could i ever look at anyone else when i have my nasty baby so desperate for me? hmm? you're perfect for me, angel. dont care about any girl that flirts with me. you're all i want," he used his fingers to push down on your tongue as he said this, groaning at the way you sucked and sucked while looking at him with wide eyes.

"gyu ..." you whined as soon as he left your mouth alone.

"but im still sorry, angel. i didnt realize it bothered you. i get it. kinda wanna fight any of ur male fans when they get a little too friendly with you. that rookie at mnet last month? wanted to take him out back for the way he was looking at you when you performed."

"gyu!," you knew your boyfriend had been jealous of your friend group due to their former crushes on you, but he'd never told you that he felt the same way about literally any man you'd come across as an idol.

"what? im just saying, i get it! im also possessive and jealous. thats why we compliment each other. now come on. lets get you dressed, baby. gotta go have a very awkward conversation with my stylist so she can fix everything you just did to me."

"me?! look at me! im covered in cum!"

"hmm yeah. so pretty, angel. you better have it all in you by the time we get home, yeah?"

you huffed, but agreed, rolling your eyes at the innocent peck that landed on your cheek as he helped you look presentable.

you knew things would be awkward around his staff from now on, but it had been worth it.

[tetheredbysin]

As a fan of Nico, I could easily disregard this and pretend like none of these things are true but I do believe that it's good to acknowledge the not-so-pretty parts of your favorites as well. Hiding away from it does no one any good. Nico has a history of saying things that he should've thought about more and realized that they are not good comments to make. Some of it maybe due to a language barrier but that's not an excuse.

I think primarily the most problematic things have been his comments on grid girls and what he said about women/girls in racing. A few years ago he was asked whether he thinks he will race against a woman in F1 and he said no because "there are not enough girls in racing since they prefer playing with dolls". (not a direct quote, something along these lines). Personally, as a woman, I never found it offensive but I do agree that it is not a comment anyone, much less a grown man, should be making, especially in the position he is in. I have always seen this comment as an old-fashioned, out-of-touch take from someone who probably grew up with pretty traditional gender roles in 90's Germany, surrounded by the sea of testosterone that is motorsport.

The comments he's made about women and grid girls I cannot quote, because frankly I do not remember them too well. (I think the grid girls one was something along the lines of "they should bring back grid girls because they are hot".) I think they fall into a very sad, slowly improving part of F1. These comments are the kind that were very common to hear from F1 drivers pre-media training era and social media. You can point a finger at most drivers who started racing any time before the mid 2010's and find distasteful comments from them, whether it's Kimi saying that women don't know how to drive, Alonso talking about grid girls as well or Seb taking his flirting a bit too far with reporters when he was younger. F1 has been an environment full of toxic masculinity for decades and we are only slowly beginning to claw back at it. Far too slowly, because even some of the younger drivers on the grid have acted towards or spoken of/to women in very inappropriate ways. Nico has done his part of this as well and I absolutely understand that it could make people dislike him. If it puts you off him to know he's said these things, I get it.

His comment about the pink cars I have never even thought twice about. A bad joke which you can interpret as homophobic and would be valid in doing so. Any Northern/Middle-European would have heard similar jokes a million times in their lives. This one for me is the least problematic (if even that) thing from his past. Never thought about it much, I don't like pink either.

All of this being said, I am not here to make excuses for a man in his mid 30's. I could, there are plenty of things about him that point towards him not being a hateful or harmful person towards women or queer people, but I'm not going to draw away from the point of this post. He has his past and has improved much over the past years, has apologized for his comments and clearly grown as a person the more he has matured. I will not try to convince anyone to like him, or to see past his mistakes. Whether you dislike him or not is your own decision to make. I like Nico and it doesn't put a strain on my conscience to say that. I do not think he is a bad person, merely someone who has made mistakes. If you disagree, that is your right and it's completely okay. If we want to, we can make moral arguments for and against quite literally any driver on the grid, be it Max, Lando, Lewis, Charles, Valtteri, Nando, Nico or any other driver that has stepped into an F1 car. We choose who we care for and who we don't.

And at the end of the day, it's important to remember that no person is perfect. We all say shitty stuff sometimes, stuff that will offend or hurt another person. Any person in the public will have much greater consequences from that than the rest of us. Nico, along with many of his colleagues, are dusting off decades of very toxic environments and the improvement in their behavior is what I care most about. What is important is growing as people and pushing towards a future where places like motorsport are safe for women and other minorities.

there's something to be said about nico hulkenberg, who the media loves to portray as a hyper-masculine (almost to a toxic level) man, having a pomeranian, dressing up as freddie mercury for halloween, loving george michael, wearing shoes with bi flag colors. in this essay I will-

[astermath]

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter​ @stevenose​ 

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week. 

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin. 

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page. 

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head. 

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you. 

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response. 

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse. 

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in. 

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you. 

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?” 

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up. 

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses. 

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.” 

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was. 

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really. 

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him. 

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you. 

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.” 

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?” 

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier. 

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love. 

[reallyromealone]

Can you do (whatever characters you like) x male omega reader?

I don’t care what character(s) get put x reader.

Plot: Toman was in a meeting talking about god knows what when reader begins to enter pre-heat. Chaos insues

Title: atypical courting

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Toman + others

Fic type: smut

Pairings: all x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, nsfw, smut, Omega male reader, group sex, double penetration

Notes: I just added everyone in here, it's all post story version's but crime ✨

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

He's known them most of his life, Mikey coming to his dad's bakery almost daily and witnessing (name) beat the crap out of a thief trying to rob them, immediately asking him to join Toman even if he was an Omega.

That was ten years ago, and here he was.

On top of the world.

Being a Toman executive wasn't easy, especially as (name) secondary gender but he made it work as he kept a constant supply of suppressants to keep his heat at bay, refusing to be seen in a moment of weakness by the other Toman executives.

(Name) And the others always had... Tension between them, not hostile not but more so sexual, they had for a very long time and neither parties actually handed it from the occasional light pass to a grope, a game of cat and mouse.

Mikey, hanma and Kisaki were one of the worst ones with their infatuation, obsessed with him without ever doing anything.

(Name) Was annoyed as he sat in the meeting, he called in sick for a reason and nooo! He had to be here to hear about god damn taxable buildings they needed to check up on! (Name) Was prepping for his upcoming heat, his preheat would hit any day now and he just didn't want to be here when it happened.

He couldn't afford to be vulnerable with people present.

"(Name), you good? Yer' sweatin' fucking buckets" Baji barked out as everyone turned to look at (name) who was barely present as a sweet smell filtered through the room, the smell of preheat.

"Why did you come if you were in preheat?!" Kisaki yelled and (name) hissed back at him "I TRIED AND YOU WERE LIKE NO EXCUSES! THIS IS IMPORTANT!" he did not care that he was yelling at a Toman vp, his stomach cramping and headache forming as he shakily stood "I'll bring you home" chifuyu and mitsuya said in a synchronized tone before glaring at one another "I'm fine, I'll just go home" (name) grunted as he stood, shaking slightly as he walked out of the room but he didn't get too far as the Toman executives be worked with daily flanked his side's, the Haitani brothers just behind him as hanma wrapped his arm around his waist.

"Back off!" (Name) Hissed at them "I'm a grown man, I can handle myself" he glared and removed Hanmas hand and the specticalled man smiled at the other as if he were an angry kitten "you have an alpha to care for you?" Draken said seriously and (name) looked cross "that's none of any of your business" (name) moved faster down the hall and towards the elevator, pushing them back with little effect as they towered over and got in, (name)s headache and cramp being particularly hard and a pained whine escaped his lips "you haven't had a heat in a while, what has it been a year? Since you had one?" Kisaki said to the other while pulling him closer from behind "we all know you don't have friends outside of Toman"

"And we know you want us as much as we want you" Muto finally pipped up as Mikey pulled him closer, hips touching each other and the smell of pharamones made (name) hazy "let us treat you good... Be our pack Omega" Mikey commanded softly, watching (name) sway slightly before the short blond lifted him effortlessly "just... Just don't claim me..." He whispered, thankful he was wearing his collar today as they all grinned.

(Name) Didn't know whose cock was where as he was double penetrated, when one cock thrusted in the other thrusted out as someone's cock was in his mouth, jerking off others as he was surrounded by alphas and cocks as he was touched and most of all filled to he brim.

"Alphaaa~" if (name) were even slightly coherent he would be horrified at the fact he was pulling his boss closer with his ankles around the blonds neck as he jerked off smileys cock that was right by his lips, moving to take it in his mouth with a soft hum.

"God, we should have made you ours forever ago.." pah said drained, having had the soul sucked from him via (name)s tight ass "you think he would be a house Omega? Bare foot?" Angry asked curiously as he too recovered and Draken snorted "he would rip out our eyes for even suggesting that"

It was true, despite being cock drunk and needy now, they knew he was too work driven to even think of that, he wasn't a house Omega who would sit all docile for them.

They literally saw him beat the shit out of a lower employee for losing a cargo box of drugs.

So that said enough.

"I'm just happy we don't have to dance around each other... I wanted so many times to take him in my office" Koko said and Sanzu grunted in agreement "I once saw him climb the lounge kitchen counter and his ass was at face level, took everything not to shove my face in his plush ass" Sanzu was almost hard thinking about it but (name) fucked him out of commission for at least a day.

It had only been five hours and the Omega is just getting exhausted as he let the there's do as they pleased to him, eyes barely staying open as he took what was given.

(Name) Woke up sore, real sore as he sat up to see bodies all over the room, chatting or sleeping as the Omega processed what happened "you need another knot baby?" Baji asked as he chugged a water bottle as Angry looked at (name) curiously as poor (name) processed what took place, cum leaking from his ass as he shakily got out of Draken and Kakuchos hold "what... Fuck... Ow" (name)s hips and ass hurt as he nearly fell over, caught by smiley who snickered at the other man's pain "what did you all go to town on me?!"

"Yuuup" the pink haired twin said kissing his cheek with a cackle "I need a shower..." (Name) Grumbled as he stumbled to the washroom with a hard limp, kicking out any horny alphas that tried to join him.

(Name) Soaked in the bath as he thought about what transpired... He just fucked all his co-workers.

And his bosses!

Oh god he got railed by Mikey and Draken at once.

Memories flooded back as he remembered everything they said to him, everything he did!

He practically attacked Kisaki for his dick!

He didn't hear the washroom door open as mitsuya walked in dressed in nice clothes, a to go bag in one hand and clothes in the other "you haven't eaten since last night" mitsuya chuckled as he crouched before (name) "we got you some breakfast" he said as (name) looked confused "why?"

"You're the pack Omega, gotta keep you taken care of"

"I'm no--""-- we aren't asking you to quit, we just want you and we know you wanted in our pack... To stubborn to admit it"

(Name) Flushed as he didn't deny it and looked at the food they got him, his favorites all present as the Alpha tried to feed him "you have wet hands, you might drop a chopstick"

After the bath, Mikey tried to demand (name) live with one of them preferably him but (name) shut that shit down "I am not going to be your back and call fuck toy " he grumbled and Mikey glared but the pout proved his harmlessness at that moment.

"Next time, in not letting you all rail me back to back"

"No promises"

[solarsturniolo]

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖕 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕺𝖓𝖊

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and @bambi-slxt started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 5,906

“W-Wait, what?” Matt’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raising. “What do you mean I might not be able to graduate?”

The school counselor sighed, lifting her glasses from the bridge of her nose and placing them onto her desk. She leaned back in her plush swivel chair, looking at the nervous boy sitting across from her. Her office was comforting, a place that Matt had found solace in quite often on his bad days. She never used the overhead light, always opting for the warm glow of her floor lamps and the flicker of light from the flame in a scented candle. Her bookshelves were littered with not only books, but numerous knick-knacks and do-hickeys. Most people would have seen it as clutter, but Matt found comfort in the items she had, which more or less reminded him of his grandmother’s house.

She turned her monitor for him to see, and she visibly saw the blood drain from his face. Her screen glowed with a much harsher light, the gradebook showing Matt’s transcript laid out in front of him. “You’re proficient in your American History class, but the rest of your classes for the semester are in the gutter. Socioeconomics, U.S. Government, European Literature, and Chemistry are all greatly negatively impacting your overall grade point average.” Matt’s head fell, his hands coming up to rub his face. How could I have let it get this bad? How could I be so negligent? How was it even possible? She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. She had grown to like Matt, he was polite and always greeted her with a smile, he was very open with his thoughts and feelings, and he really did work hard. She empathized with him, because she knew how it felt to be in this spot. “This is a reversible situation - we can fix this. You have options, Matt.”

Matt looked up from his lap, his hands falling onto his thighs. “W-We can?”

“Yes,” she replied with a smile. She swirled her chair around, unlocking one of the drawers in her filing cabinet and opening it to reveal a number of filing folders. She fingered through them before pulling out a sheet, turning her chair back towards her desk and placing it down in front of Matt. “We have a tutoring program available, and I think you would benefit greatly from it.”

“Tutoring?” Matt frowned, staring down at the paper. He never thought in his life that he would need tutoring. How embarrassing. I’m doing so bad in my classes that I need another student to teach me. What if I know them? What if they tell everybody? Matt looked back up at the counselor, hesitation clear on his face. “Are there any other options?”

She sighed, putting her glasses back on and turning the monitor to face her once again. Matt watched intently as she clicked her mouse a few times. Matt instinctively brought his hand to his face, subconsciously beginning to chew on his nails. I can’t choose tutoring. Chris and Nick will never let me hear the end of it. This is so embarrassing. Can’t I just retake a test or something? Why did I let it get this bad?

“Unfortunately, the only other option I have here is for you to retake these classes again…which would also mean repeating senior year.”

Matt hadn’t realized he had chewed his nail off. He dropped his hand back to his lap, discreetly spitting it out when she wasn’t looking at him. “I’ll take the tutoring,” Matt sighed. The thought of not graduating with Nick and Chris made him feel queasy. His stomach turned over just thinking about his brothers walking across that stage while he sat in the audience and watched. His brothers holding their diplomas up with cheesy smiles on their faces for their pictures that would surely be framed and hung on the walls of their parents’ house for the remainder of their lives; all while Matt would have to wait another year to meet the same fate. Another year of high school, this time without his brothers. Without Chris to make him laugh, to make the day move by just a little quicker. Without Nick, who always looked out for Matt, always offering to ask the teacher any questions that Matt had to take the heat off of him, to avoid any anxiety inducing feelings that Matt might have had. I can’t do it. I wouldn’t last a day without them. Any chance to avoid that outcome is one he would take, no questions asked.

x o x o x o

I should have asked some fucking questions. Matt’s heart pounded as he pretended to look at something on his phone, switching between his social media apps anxiously; not that any of them were bustling with activity, he just needed something to make himself look busy. She was here. I wasn’t prepared to see her. Holy fuck.

For the past four years, Monday through Friday, once the bell rang after the final class of the day, Matt had booked it for the locker room. Shuffling through a crowd of boys, shoving Chris (and getting shoved right back), listening to a variety of music through his headphones (mostly Kid Ink, Lil Skies, Mac Miller, and Post Malone), and throwing on his gear for lacrosse. Today, however, he sat awkwardly in the school library, leg bouncing, chewing at the skin around his pinky fingernail. His headphones tucked away in his pocket. No music to drown out his thoughts. Why didn’t I ask more questions? I can’t do this; I can’t be here with her. This can’t be happening. She…looks so pretty.

Across from him, a few tables over, she sat on the table itself, cross-legged and completely at ease. A light blue sweater hung off her shoulders, a pair of khaki cargos crinkled over her legs, worn-out white air forces, and a pair of hoop earrings rounded out the simple, gut-wrenching outfit.

Matt hated feeling this way. She drove him insane, and she had no idea who he was. That was a lie - they had a few classes together. Incidentally, those same classes glowed red in the gradebook. It didn’t take him very long to figure out why.

For the past four years, Matt had walked into school every morning hoping in equal measure that she had shown up and that she had suddenly become homeschooled. Every single class, he would stare at the door just hoping he’d catch a glimpse of her, whether she was walking into the classroom or just passing by in the hallway. He knew where to look for her in the hallways between classes, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart rate pick up when he’d see her in the flood of other students chaotically herding through the halls.

Now she was his tutor. She was the reason he was failing, and she was his tutor. His counselor had no way of knowing, but she had just doomed Matt to repeat senior year. He was not about to sit down with that girl and make a complete idiot out of himself.

Lifting his backpack and hooking the strap over his shoulder, he got up and turned for the door. At that moment she looked up from her book, her eyes locking with his, and he froze.

Her hair fell softly along the edges of her face, and she looked at him with mild curiosity. Matt’s breath hitched in his throat. Years of her never even noticing me, and now she’s looking at me and…smiling. Oh god.

Don’t you dare fuck this up, he heard Chris whisper in the back of his mind. “Fuck off,” he muttered and began to walk towards her.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be for uh…” He didn’t want to say it. Normally people would jump in and finish sentences anyway to avoid uncomfortable silences. She did not. She just continued to look at him with minimal interest, her smile growing a little in amusement. Oh god. This isn’t happening. Somebody please pinch me. Or shoot me.

Matt felt the heat rising to his face, his breath catching in his throat as she stared at him. “Tutoring. I’m here for tutoring.”

She slipped a bookmark between the pages of the book she was reading and pulled a knee up to her chest. Matt caught a glimpse of the cover of the novel, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. A hockey player? I played hockey. Should I say that? Does she like hockey players? Lacrosse is like hockey… in some ways. Should I-

“You’re Matt, right? One of the triplets?”

Matt blinked. “Yeah.”

She smiled again, placing her book down onto the table. Icebreaker? Matt made a mental note to look that up later. “I think we share a few classes, right?”

“We have Socioeconomics, European Literature, and Chemistry together, and when Chorus comes into the auditorium to practice, I run the soundboard for you. You took Workshop with me and Chris, and I could never focus on a single project me and him had together. We had Math and Introduction to Culinary together last year, all of our electives the year before that, and in ninth grade you were in my home room and study hall. You’ve always been in my lunch block, and you like to eat out in the courtyard under the willow tree far away from the picnic benches. You’re in the photography and Yearbook club because you love to take pictures, and you also run the school’s yearbook account on Instagram. You never get breakfast because it hurts your stomach to eat in the mornings but if you forgot to have dinner the night before, you’ll go through the line in the cafeteria and get an old-fashioned donut and a cup of mixed fruit. You prefer peppermint gum over spearmint, you always wear shimmer lip gloss instead of clear, you chew on your lip when you’re thinking really hard, you write sloppily when taking notes, but your papers are written in cursive. You’re terrifyingly beautiful, and I’ve wanted to talk to you for four years.”

That’s what Matt thought about saying. Instead of opting for that particular route of social suicide, however, he simply went with, “Yeah, I think we have one or two together, right?” and sat his bag down.

Don’t fuck this up. You cannot fuck this up.

x o x o x o

“Ms. Coleman said you were behind in some classes,” she said, pulling out her laptop from her bag. “Which ones?”

‘All of them’, He thought to himself. Matt sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “What am I not behind in?” he mumbled.

She looked up at him through her lashes. Matt felt his stomach twist up in knots. He had imagined her looking at him like this more times than he could count. Usually late at night when he was in bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes screwed shut as he bit back soft whines and whimpers as his arousal leaked into his fist. He couldn’t help but feel his pants tightening around his crotch as filthy thought after filthy thought played in his head.

She smiled at him again, and Matt suddenly realized that she had been speaking. His stomach dropped. “S-Sorry, what?” he stammered. She laughed softly, a sound that made Matt’s heart leap up into his throat. “I asked if you could be a little more specific.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Um, Government, English, Socioeconomics, and Chem.” He looked down at his hands in his lap, the thoughts from earlier looming over him. I won’t graduate. Mom will be so disappointed. Dad won’t speak to me for a year. Chris and Nick will move on in life without me. She probably thinks I’m an idiot. Who the fuck fails almost every class in their last semester?

He could have sworn he felt his heart come to a full stop when he felt her hand on his shoulder, his head snapping up in an instant. “Hey,” she cooed as Matt met her gaze once more. “We’ll fix this. We have four months until graduation. You have time.”

Yeah, time to spend my afternoons drooling over you and retaining no information. Four months to sit here and gawk at you every fucking afternoon while my grades continue to plummet. Four months of me rushing home after these tutor sessions to beat off before Nick and Chris get home from their after school extra curriculars. Either way, I’m failing this semester.

“Why don’t we start with English, hm? I’m in that class with you, third period. We have a paper due on Friday.” She opened her laptop, pressing the power button repeatedly. Matt swallowed the lump in his throat – fuck. The paper… he was hoping to avoid it altogether. Sensing his hesitation, she raised her eyebrows. “Have you started it?”

Matt blinked. He licked his lips, suddenly noticing how dry they were. “...No.”

“Me neither,” she grinned, and Matt felt his shoulders relax. She had a beautiful smile, and it so rarely appeared on the Somerville High property, even less so in the classes they’d shared. It made him wonder what else he could do or say to make it stay for longer.

“It’s okay,” she continued, tapping away at her keyboard, urging the ancient relic to awaken and let her log on. “We can write it together.”

“Yeah, sure…together,” he said, taking out his own laptop, proud that he had enough focus to keep his hands steady. He wanted to make her smile again, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how. Matt also wanted to crawl into the floor and sleep for an eternity, but his wishes seemed to have no substance. His grades did, and more than anything, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he made Chris and Nick leave him behind. Punctuating his thoughts with a deep sigh, Matt pulled up the assignment rubric. “Three pages, double spaced - that’s not bad - third page sources cited…” As he scanned the page, she, still waiting on her dinosaur of a computer to come to life, leaned closer to him to see for herself.

Her perfume. Waves of vanilla with floral notes. Undertones of musk. It was strong but intoxicating. Matt used every ounce of self-control to not turn towards her and inhale as much of it as he could. She had been using this perfume for the past three years, and Matt had become obsessed with it. He was like a stoner catching a whiff of weed, he could identify it from a mile away. He could sniff her out like a bloodhound if he really wanted to. Matt begged his brain to behave.

It didn’t.

The aching in his pants grew. Matt pulled his hoodie down to cover his lap, he could not let her see what she did to him. He felt his face heat up as embarrassment flooded his brain. Still, his cock remained half hard and his balls felt heavy with arousal. Despite knowing how wrong it was, he wanted nothing more than to rub one out. Matt used every iota of his self-control to focus on puling the assignment up on his computer. One hour. I just need to get through this one hour.

x o x o x o

“How long have you been tutoring?” Matt wanted to know more about her. It was a near-feverish affliction that kept his leg bouncing continuously, releasing nervous energy at speeds that could power the entire city of Boston.

She didn’t look up at him, pulling up the assignment on her computer. “I started last year…gave me a chance to get out of Johnson’s eighth period. Do you know why you’re falling behind in Philosophy?”

Matt didn’t hear her question at all. The stickers on her laptop were incredibly distracting - he caught a glimpse of Homer Simpson, the Monster logo, a few Pokémon, numerous band logos, Marilyn Monroe, a sick vaporwave statue head, and a plethora of raccoons. I like raccoons. Now is probably not the best time to tell her that. “Huh?”

She glanced over through her lashes, and Matt felt his air supply vaporize. “I asked why you’re failing.”

Because you walk into the room and I forget how to speak my own damn language. Because I want to talk to you so bad, but my throat closes up when you look at me. Because when you smile it makes my legs heavy…But more than anything, because I want you in ways that I have never wanted anyone before, and it is all that I can think about. No matter where I am at or who I am with, you manage to take over every thought in my head. Movie nights with my brothers where I can drown out the movie, daydreaming of what you might look like waking up next to me in one of my shirts. Dinner with my family, wondering if you like whatever it is that we’re eating that night. In the shower, wondering what your routine is like. Late nights in my room, the door locked and the lights off, clothes discarded onto the floor, my hand tugging at my cock. You are always there. You’re the reason why I’m failing, and you don’t even know it.

Matt settled on, “It’s hard to focus in there.” Not a lie. But not even close to the truth.

She nodded. “She talks in circles sometimes.” A pause made his eyes dart up to hers, terrified that he’d missed something again. But no, she was…studying him.

Her head tilted slightly, and her hazy eyes rested on his. He wondered what she was thinking about, and something primitive in his mind was screaming at him to hide. He felt vulnerable, weak under her gaze. His cock throbbed. Matt did his best to bite back the soft groan that fought to escape his throat.

“I think you might just need a body double.”

He blinked.

She continued. “The classes you’re failing, those are the only ones you don’t have with one of your brothers or your other friends, right?”

Matt nodded, wondering how she could possibly know that. He bookmarked that thought for later.

“Well, your brain probably knows that they expect you to do your work, and you don’t want to let them down, so the work gets done. Not in English or History, apparently. So, I’m your body double. And I expect you to do your work.” She grinned. “It’s corny as fuck but you’d be surprised how much you get done. Ready to start?”

Matt decided to process that particular heap of information later. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sending you my sources. You know how to cite them?”

His brain couldn’t register her words. It all made sense, but his brain felt too fuzzy to put the pieces together. “Sources, right. Y-Yeah, I uh…yes.”

“Good boy,” she purred. Matt nearly choked, his dick now fully hard. There’s no way she just said that. She gestured to his keyboard, and Matt began to shakily type the name of the website he needed into the search bar. Maybe I just imagined it…It’s been a weird day. Matt could feel her gaze burning into his skin like the heat of a thousand suns. His heart was lodged in his throat, he had begun manually breathing, not wanting his breaths to sound too heavy or too short.

Her hands kept brushing his arm, and Matt realized if he wasn’t careful, she would notice the way his face turned a bright red when she touched him, or worse… she’d see the bulge that could barely even be hidden by his hoodie. He turned away from her, pretending to look for something in his bag. “I um…thanks.”

“Go ahead and read those, throw all the relevant information into a messy doc, and then let me know when you’re done, okay?” Matt looked up and she leaned once more against the concrete column behind her, earbuds in, typing away in her own empty doc for the same assignment. He glanced at the stickers on her laptop, eyeing the one in the dead center with the name of a band he had never heard of. I wonder what she’s listening to. Would she like my music? Would I like hers?

Pulling out his own headphones, Matt shuffled his own playlist, and tried desperately to focus on the article in front of him.

x o x o x o

Forty two minutes later (he counted), Matt finally reached the end of the mind-numbing wall of text. No closer to understanding what the fuck he was doing, he reached out to tap the table near her knee. Her cargos sported faded stitching on their edges, proof of intentional wear as opposed to fashion wear.

When the flash of motion moved into her line of sight, she looked up from her own article, brows raised expectantly and eyes locked onto his. “How’s it going?”

“Well…It’s not perfect but…it’s better than nothing right?.”

“Mhmm.” She leaned forward, staring at his screen. “One and a half pages? Atta boy.”

Matt’s face flushed, his lips parting to speak but silence was all that followed.

“Did you do what I said earlier?”

“Yes ma’am.” Where the FUCK did THAT come from?

She wrinkled her face, her lips tugging up into a smile. “Down, boy.”

Matt almost puked. A lightning bolt struck his lungs, and they withered in his ribcage. “Sorry- sorry,” he stuttered. He ripped his gaze away from hers, blinking rapidly.

She laughed softly, the ghost of a smile passing over her lips. Matt’s head shot up faster than he’d ever admit. “Little weirdo,” she muttered, turning away from him to put her laptop in her bag.

“Oh, are we-”

“Mhm. Bell’s about to ring.”

He blinked again, opening his own backpack.

“Give me your snap.”

“Huh?”

“Your snapchat. So we can talk about your assignments and schedule tutoring for sometime other than boy’s athletics.”

How did she-

“Wouldn’t want you to miss lacrosse.” She tilted her head to punctuate her all-knowing tone, and put her phone in Matt’s hand.

As he typed megamett_44, Matt reevaluated the entirety of his life’s choices, and hoped she’d just…ignore it. Or not see it at all, that was preferable.

Neither of those things happened.

“Mega. Mett. Forty four?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“...Yep.”

“You, um…” She gestured, sarcasm beginning to drip from her lips. “You wanna explain?”

“No I do not,” he replied, grinning nervously, avoiding her gaze.

“Hmm…cute,” She smirked. Matt felt his heart swell and his pants tighten even more at the comment she had made, just barely crossing the line of being a praiseful remark. He wanted to ask more about what she meant; Why did she say cute? Does she think I’m cute? Was she just saying the username is cute? But before he could think of something, the bell rang, and in one fluid motion, she swung her bag over her shoulder and slipped off the table. “Later,” she hummed before she disappeared into a river of students escaping school grounds for the weekend.

Matt exhaled and slumped into his chair, hanging his head as he dropped his bag back onto the floor. The visible bulge under the fabric of his shorts and his hoodie taunted him, his mind raced, thinking of all the things he could have done instead of gawking at her and stuttering one or two words at a time in response to whatever she said to him. Matt ran his fingers through his messy hair. His cheeks remained a rosy pink. He rubbed his lips with his fingers, an anxious habit he had picked up over the years in a desperate attempt to help with his nail biting problem, though very little progress had been made there.

“I’m done for,” he said, nodding decisively. “Yep. This is the end of Matthew Sturniolo.” Matt looked down at his phone, numerous texts from his brothers flooding the screen.

Nick: where are you

Chris: where r u ?

Nick: why weren’t you at lacrosse

Chris: coach is not happy with you lmao

Chris: helloooooooo

Chris: the van is still here so we know ur here

Chris: unless 😏

Nick: enough

Chris: man come on nick is grumpy and bitching about the weather

Nick: it’s fucking sweltering out and i’m sweating bullets. I’d appreciate getting into the air conditioned vehicle that we OWN

Matt sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket. He looked around, making sure that nobody was nearby as he stood up. Grabbing his bag, Matt hurried out of the library and pushed his way through the halls to the nearest restroom.

Ensuring that the bathroom was completely empty, he slipped into the closest bathroom stall and locked it behind him. Matt quickly dropped his bag to the floor, lifting the hem of his hoodie up and holding it between his teeth. He pulled the band of his shorts down, groaning softly as the friction sent bolts of pleasure through him. He slipped his hand under the fabric of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as his hand wrapped around his shaft. He hummed ever so softly as he gave his cock a few strokes.

He opened his eyes, suddenly realizing what he was doing. No, this isn’t like you. This isn’t right. You don’t do this here. He pulled his cock up into the waistband of his boxers, dissatisfied above all else, but knowing he had to hide his unpleasant erection somehow. This was a new low for him. What kind of a creep can’t even keep it in his pants until he gets home? Matt pulled his shorts back up, dropping the hem of his hoodie from where it had been between his teeth. He stepped out of the bathroom stall, taking a quick once-over in the mirror to make sure he looked put together and not a flustered horny mess, before he slipped out of the bathroom, following the mass of students rushing for the exit out into the student parking lot.

x o x o x o

Matt saw Chris and Nick leaning against the edge of his car. Matt clicked the unlock button on his key, the vehicle chirping in response. Nick opened the door to the backseat, huffing something under his breath as he got into the car. “Where the hell were you?” Chris asked, slinging his bag into the back next to Nick’s foot, closing the door behind him.

“Library,” Matt muttered, clunking into the driverseat. Chris paralleled Matt’s actions, dropping himself into the passenger seat. “Library?” Chris repeated, tasting the word with furrowed eyebrows as he turned to look at Nick, expecting he might know more about Matt’s situation.

He did not. Nick scrunched his face. “Since when do you go to the library?”

Matt groaned. “Can we just go home.”

The other two didn’t ask too many questions after that. What normally would have been a debrief session of their individual experiences from that day while feasting on whatever fast-food place the three of them had voted on, was instead a deafening silence and a painfully tense atmosphere. Matt was secretly very appreciative of this, his mind was too scattered for him to hold a conversation with his brothers, never mind care about what they were discussing.

x o x o x o

When he collapsed onto his bed, Matt checked his phone, brows furrowed in surprise. He’d gotten a notification from Snapchat (a rarity), and his heart shot up into his throat when he saw who it was from. He tapped on the notification to see that she had sent him a photo of herself - her hair fell in waves around her face, and Matt could see the glint of her earrings. She wasn’t even looking at the camera, making the edge of her eyeliner effortlessly severe. Matt’s chest went aflutter, and he stared at that picture for a very long set of minutes. “Here’s my snap”, she had typed, and once he tapped out of the photo, Matt added her back.

But they hadn’t spoken past that.

He laid on his bed trying to think of something to say to keep talking to her, but everything sounded desperate and corny. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to talk to her for hours, about anything and everything. He wanted to know everything about her.

As the sky darkened, Matt scrolled aimlessly on TikTok, then Instagram, then back to TikTok, avoiding Snapchat to the best of his ability. His mind refused to let go of her, and it was starting to piss him off. What is she doing? Does she stay home on school nights? Does she go out? What are her hobbies? Does she play video games? Would she play them with me? Does she like to read outside of school too? When does she go to bed? Does she like to stay up late? Does she go to bed early? Why can't I think of something normal to say to her?

Matt dragged himself out of bed, crumpling slowly to the floor. He leaned his head against the edge of his mattress and sighed - what a fucking day.

A knock at the door had him lifting his head from where it rested against the mattress. “Hi, honey.” Mom. “You eating dinner with us tonight?”

He stood up, crossed the empty floor of his room quickly, and pulled his door open. “Hey Mom.” Matt leaned into her, and Mary Lou slipped her arms around her son.

“Hi baby. Somethin’ on your mind?”

I’m failing.

I’m failing four classes.

You and dad would be so disappointed.

I feel tired and sick all the time.

I just want to go to sleep.

Graduation is in four months.

Nick and Chris are gonna leave me.

I’ll have to repeat senior year.

It’ll all be my fault.

The girl making me fail is the girl trying to help me pass.

I can’t focus on anything.

I’m so fucking tired.

“Just missed ya.” Matt sighed. He hummed when he felt his mother's loving arms embrace him just a little tighter. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

x o x o x o

A dark room. The brush of fingers over silk. A candle flickering shadows against the walls. The faint scent of vanilla. Pleasure flowing through his body. The buzzing hum of a vibrator. More waves of soft tingling flowing from the center of his body.

“Good boy…”

He sighed, lips parted, eyes closed. His hips began to shift upwards, slowly at first, pushing against the vibrator, aching for more. Instead, his leaking, rock-hard cock met a soft hand. He whimpered, digging his pelvis into the pillowy skin. “Awww…d’you wanna hump Mommy’s hand?”

“Yes…” he pleaded, his head lolling to the side, chest heaving. “P-Please, I-I... Please.”

Her fist began to slip around the head of his cock. “Please what?”

“Nnnghh…please let me hump your hand. I need it s-so bad, p-please, it hurts Mommy, I just wanna…jus wanna feel your hand around my…my…”

Another hand cupped his balls, silky-soft thumb rubbing spine-tingling circles over his pleasure-filled skin. “Hmm? What was that, pretty boy? Mommy didn’t quite catch that.”

“My cock, miss, I…p-please reward me…please, I-I’ve been so good…”

She smiled, amused by how easy it was to get him riled up. “Go ahead, baby. You’ve been such a good boy. You deserve a little treat, don’t you?”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. His hips lifted, his jaw going slack as his shaft slipped through her fist with ease, her hand already sticky with his arousal. A whimper grew at the back of his throat, his hips beginning to buck up into her grasp. Erotic sounds filled the room; heavy panting, his wet cock slipping in and out of her grasp, the bed frame creaking ever so quietly, her quiet praises that she’d whisper to him. “Atta boy, you’ve got it,” she hummed, earning a sound from Matt that he hadn’t even known he was capable of making. A mix between a sob and a whimper, a sound that made her press her thighs together, her core aching for him. “That’s it, baby, hump Mommy’s hand. Doesn’t that feel good?”

His pace quickened, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he began to rut against her hand. His desire was primal. It was animalistic. The way he craved her, unlike anything he had ever craved for in his life. His balls, heavy with his arousal, slapping against her wrist as her hand reached the base of his cock with every thrust he made. His tip, swollen and pink, leaking with his desire. She could feel the way his shaft throbbed, practically begging for more. Her hand gently squeezed his tip, a guttural moan falling from his rosy lips.

He began to whine now, desperate pleas pouring from his lips like thick sweet honey. “I’ve been so good, I’ll behave, I promise, I’ll be s-so good for you Mommy, please let me cum, please, I’m b-begging you, please Mommy… y-you’re so sweet and g-good to me, I jus’ wanna make you happy, please let me make you happy…f-fuck!” White-hot liquid spurted from his tip, coating her hand and his abdomen as she continued to stroke his sensitive shaft.. “Mmmph…Mommy…f-fuck…thank you, th-thank you, mmph Mommy…thank you, y-you’re so good to me…”

Breathlessly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking up at the beautiful girl in front of him. His gaze flickered down to her hand, his cock throbbing as he saw how much of a mess he had made. Ropes of thick warm cum coated her hand, and Matt couldn’t help but think of what it’d look like leaking out of her. He watched with a dazed and aroused glisten in his eyes as she brought her hand up to his lips. Obediently he licked his mess off of her fingers, paying no mind to the taste. He didn’t care, he’d do anything she wanted, even if it meant having the lingering taste of his seed in his mouth. Once her hand was cleaned up, he pressed kisses up to her wrist, trailing up her arm, keeping his eyes low in reverence.

She lifted his head with a finger under his jaw. “You’re welcome, baby. You did so good for me, hmm?” she murmured, kissing his forehead. Matt closed his eyes, never wanting to leave this moment. “Were you a good boy for mommy?”

Matt shot up in his bed and his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He pulled his duvet cover off of him, and in the dark of his bedroom he could still see his mess leaking through the fabric of his boxers. His torso was slick with a sheen layer of sweat. Despite having already finished, his cock refused to soften.

“Oh fuck me,” he snarled, rubbing his tired face with his hands. This is going to be the hardest four months of my life.

Tags: @mattsturniololoverr @oversturn @mattslolita @simplysturn @flowerxbunnie @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @rootbeerworshiper @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @m4ttslvr @sturnioloblogs @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @taekwite @itzdarling

[writingficsanddaydreams]

Little Paintings

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: surely the extremely observant and powerful warlord of the sea won’t notice your little paintings all over his castle…

Content: pure fluff, with just a hint of romance. reader is written as autistic.

A/N: I recently watched a TikTok where somebody was painting cute little designs all around their house until their spouse noticed. It made me think of this idea. Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago. Enjoy!

—————————

You like painting. Always have, always will.

However, you’re not sure if the fearsome Dracule Mihawk will appreciate it so much as you, not when you’re painting inside his crystal ware cabinet. Especially not when you didn’t bother to get his permission. 

Not that you’ll stop.

If anything, it makes you determined to work quicker, nudging more of the delicate wine glasses aside to you can lean in and finish the adding paint strokes to the fine wood, creating a minuscule image of a little bottle in the back corner of the cabinet.

Is it silly for a fully grown adult to be doing this? Perhaps. Yet you can’t help but smile as you add the final touch to the tiny little label on the bottle, a small swirl of purple paint to match the label of the wine he shared with you yesterday.  

Perfect.

When you extract yourself and carefully push the wine glasses back in place, the painting is completely hidden. You have just enough time to hustle back through the chilly castle halls and tuck your paints in your room before he returns inside from his sword practice.

He gives you quite the long look when you settle in the kitchen later that day, those piercing yellow eyes seeming to cut through your surface and see so deep. And though you feel your breath catch—as it often does around this formidable man—you force yourself to smile innocently.

“Yes?” you ask.

“I will be sailing out for supplies this afternoon,” he says after a long moment.

You nod and draw your knees to your chin. “Do you need me along?”

“No need for that.”

You sigh with relief, watching as he turns back to his cooking. You don’t dislike people, but you do prefer your solitude. You always have, ever since you were a child. It’s why you feel content to stay here now.

That, and how utterly delightful it is to watch him cook.

He’s terribly handsome when cooking, though you’re fairly sure the man would look handsome doing anything. His knife seem to blur as he cuts up the vegetables, then begins to prep the meat. When he reaches for the pans, his cross necklace shifting against his finely cut chest, your heart skips a beat.

Yet he simply grabs a pan and gets to work, seeming to not notice the tiny cross shaped sword painted just behind where the pots hang.

Really, it’s foolish of you to do this. Yes, art has always been a passion for you, but you are a guest here. A guest he has allowed to stay for some months, and a guest who has shared just enough casual, accidental touches that you hope it might become something more, but still a guest.

Still, you’re curious. Just how much can you paint before the great swordsman notices?

You’ve been at it for a week now, ever since you found the dusty little bottles of paint tucked away in a forgotten storeroom. You use every moment he’s out to sneak little paintings around the castle, none bigger than your thumb.

There’s the little map against the doorframe of your room, like the treasure map you were following before you stumbled on this island.

Then there’s the small ape painted onto one table leg in the dining hall, a far less fearsome version of the beasts that chased away your captain and crew when you all landed here. You recall how frustrated you were that they left you behind, a frustration that has long since faded now that you can count on the safety of Dracule Mihawk’s castle.

He walks past you now, a hand brushing briefly against your arm before he continues on to grab the spices across the kitchen.

Not an accident, surely. Nothing this man does is accidental.

That makes you think of the minuscule wanted poster you painted in the corner of your doorframe yesterday, in honor of the fear you first felt when you realized just who inhabited this place. Funny how frightened you were that first day. And the second day.

…and the third.

By the forth, however, you had figured out he likely wasn’t going to kill you.

By the fifth you’d determined that so long as you didn’t irritate him, he didn’t seem inclined to make you leave either. In fact, as days went on, you became fairly certain he didn’t mind your company.

Which is why you now play this foolish game of sneakily painting designs all around his castle.

You always considered yourself clever. Yet apparently all it takes are a few “accidental” touches and heavy looks for you to throw all your caution to the wind. Teasing a warlord, vandalizing his castle… such a perfect plan for long term survival.

Still, you do truly enjoy painting.

Your favorite are the flowers you painted along a small crack in the stones of the great hall, colored with a yellow that makes you think of his stunning eyes, the eyes that have over the last few months shifted from disinterest and disdain to… something else.

Something that makes you hope perhaps you won’t always be just a guest.

You’re not brave enough to make any moves yourself—never really have been when it comes to matters of the heart—but that won’t stop you from seeing just where these lingering glances and soft touches might eventually go.

Those same eyes stare at you again now as you make your way to the dining hall and pick at your food, separating the small bits of tomato from the rest of your meal. You bite back a smile as his gaze cuts down to your plate and he takes note of the rejected vegetable. Knowing him, he won’t use it in your meals again.

You honestly don’t know how a man so observant has not noticed your paintings yet.

“Do you need anything from the village?” Mihawk asks, startling you from your thoughts.

“I’m alright, I think,” you say. Given the nearest village is several islands away, you take a moment to think about it truly, but everything you need has been provided for you already. If anything, you’re far more comfortable here than you ever were with the crew you sailed alongside, a crew that only cared about you for your rough mapmaking skills—your least favorite thing to paint if you’re being honest—and were quick to abandon you when the first hint of danger appeared. 

He nods and turns to his own plate. You try not to stare at the wall behind him, where you‘ve recently painted a tiny little figure sitting in a tiny little chair wearing a tiny black wide brimmed hat, hidden just at the base of the dining hall floorboards.

Trying not to giggle about it keeps you distracted through most of lunch.

“I’ll be off then,” Mihawk says as you both finish your meals, rising from the table.

“Be safe.”

Ah yes, because you need to tell the strongest swordsman in the world to be safe. You mentally kick yourself, but feel better when he offers you one of his rare almost smiles, even as he pauses by your chair.

“Don’t worry yourself,” he says, that confidence that you’ve come to admire woven through every inch of his words. “I highly doubt there will be anyone to challenge me. Truly a shame. Oh, as a note…”

“Yes?”

Your breathe hitches as he reaches out, gently taking your hand and lifting it towards him. You’re hyper aware of how strong his grip is. So powerful, yet intentionally gentle. Of how piercing his gaze is, those eyes that are so hard to meet, even as they set your heart racing. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss against it.

Oh.

When he lowers your hand, he’s… smiling. Not just that almost smirk, but a real smile. Your heart lurches again at the sight. When he speaks, it takes you a long moment to process his words around the pounding of your heart.

“The entry hall could use a few more flowers, perhaps, if you must paint all over the walls.”

Then he’s off, leaving you stunned where you sit. Your draw your hand close to yourself, staring at the skin he kissed.

You hadn’t noticed it until now, but on the back of your hand is just the slightest smudge of dried purple paint from earlier.

As you run a finger along the paint, you find yourself hesitating. Then before you know it, you’ve risen from your chair and are hurrying to follow, to catch Mihawk before he leaves the castle.

Perhaps you need some supplies after all.

More paints. New brushes. A proper tray for mixing your colors… and maybe even a true kiss from the warlord you’ve fallen for.

[ki-yomii]

baby, don't go | myg

➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 5.1k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)

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Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.

Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.

Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.

Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.

Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."

Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.

Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.

In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.

"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."

Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"

"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."

The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.

Not yet.

It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.

"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."

LIAR.

In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.

Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.

At least not until morning.

Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?

Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.

The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.

You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.

Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."

Panic grabs you by the throat.

This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.

Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.

How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...

You thought you were going to marry him.

The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.

"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."

The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.

"It's just been one of those days."

Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.

What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.

Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.

Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.

“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”

Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.

Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.

Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest

“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”

You hate that you stutter over his name.

And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.

She’s always hated him.

Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.

God, why does she have to be right?

You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.

You only just found out.

Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.

She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”

Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”

The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.

And it helps for a time, truly.

But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.

Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.

“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”

You hum, worlds away.

“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”

Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.

Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”

“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”

Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.

Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.

The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.

And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.

Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.

Shit.

You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”

Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.

“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”

You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”

“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”

She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”

You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.

How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?

He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.

You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”

You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”

You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”

Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.

Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.

Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.

“So-o, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry?”

She nods towards Yoongi subtly.

He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”

“Oh my god!”

Kae-In shrugs. “What.”

“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”

A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.

“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”

A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.

As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.

All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

To feel like someone’s first and only choice.

You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.

They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.

Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.

It’s a terrible idea.

But maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.

Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.

Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.

Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.

Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.

Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.

His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.

It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.

Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess. 

Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.

You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.

It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.

Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.

And that?

So not good.

Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.

There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.

“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”

You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.

Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.

Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.

You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.

When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.

He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.

Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.

It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.

No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.

It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.

Of course, it has to be him.

Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.

“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”

As you pass by, he catches your arm.

Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.

His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.

All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.

"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.

A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.

Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.

Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”

His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.

Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.

“I haven’t said hello yet.”

Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.

Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.

His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.

Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.

“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”

He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.

The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.

“Oh?”

You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.

You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.

Always has.

“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”

You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.

Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.

His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.

You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.

Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.

He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.

His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.

“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.

How is this my life, you think, dazed.

His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”

After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.

With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.

For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.

He holds you down.

His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.

You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.

A sweet ache settles low and deep.

“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”

His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.

The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.

Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.

Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.

“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”

“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”

“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”

A smile, all teeth.

“Isn’t that right, baby?”

You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.

Two can play that game.

“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”

You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.

”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.

Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.

Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.

Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.

Shit, that’s so unfair.

Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?

Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.

Big mistake.

Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.

Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.

Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.

Sex with him was always stupidly good.

All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.

Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.

He’s ruined you.

His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.

Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”

Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.

“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”

Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.

In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.

All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.

Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.

His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.

“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.

You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”

Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.

Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.

His knuckles brush your skin.

Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.

Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.

His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.

You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.

“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.

You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.

He hisses, thrusts off beat.

Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”

Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.

Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.

Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.

Fuck, he’s handsome like this.

It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.

The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.

He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”

It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.

A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.

In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.

He’s a goner.

Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.

Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.

He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”

“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”

In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.

Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”

Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.

“Can you do that for me?”

Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”

By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.

The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.

[conelluwrites]

how wonderful life is while you're in this world

Reader/Francis Mosses (she/her used for reader, reader is described as having female genitalia)

Posted on my AO3 as well

Title from Elton John's Your Song

TW: None that I can think of! I think this might be my first vanilla fic?

Your boyfriend is typically too tired for sex, but tonight he wants to remind you how special you are to him

Francis’ girlfriend was used to him not initiating sex, after all he was her sleepy baby.  She couldn’t even properly figure out the last time they had sex, it had to have been a month or so ago.  She didn’t mind, her fingers were expert enough at making her cum and they had other ways to show love for one another.  A love note here or there, tired cuddles that make him almost late in the morning, remembering small details about each other that people would typically overlook -- so many ways they had grown to show love. When her boyfriend finally stumbles through the door he lets out a hefty sigh, getting her attention from the small television sat in front of the couch.  His eyes find hers, they always do regardless of the room they’re in.  A small twinkle appears in his eyes, a small twitch of his lips, a visible weight is removed from his shoulders as he walks over to her.  He flops onto the couch, an arm finding its way over her.

“Long day, hun?” She asks, leaning against him.

“Always is.”  His answer is short, indicating just how tired he is.  He leans down, nestling his nose into her hair.  He inhales his home, his other arm going around her waist and enveloping her into a sort of hug.  

“Hate to hear that.” She reciprocates the hug, resting her head against his shoulder, her nose resting against his neck.  Her thumbs rub small circles on his waist, pressing small kisses on the skin his white button up exposes.

Francis hums, removing his hat before placing his arm back over her as they cuddle up on the couch.  It’s not the most comfortable, he would be fine going to bed but he has a plan in mind for tonight.  He’s wanted to do this for a while, but he’s always been too exhausted. “It’s quite alright, I do get to come home to you, after all.”  He presses a kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment.

“Always the charmer, huh?” She quips, though the way her cheeks flush show just how charmed she is just by the simple sentence.  She has always found solace in his loving words, no matter how cheesy they were.

He laughs, the tired sound like music to her ears.  “Mm, I have something more in mind to charm you; something to show you just how special you are to me.”  His voice is a warm murmur as he pulls away from her, kissing her neck before sinking to his knees in front of her.  The grin plastered on his face is more than enough to send a bolt of arousal through her body.  Her eyes never waver from his as she shifts on the couch.  He delicately takes her legs,his hands trail down the exposed flesh until they reach the waistband of her shorts and gives the fabric a slight tug.  It’s just enough to give her the hint -- that she needs to lift her ass so he can remove them.  She gets it immediately, allowing him to remove the soft fabric.  He places them beside him and licks his lips.  The soft pink of her panties inviting him and teasing him.  “So pretty…”  He takes her legs and places them over his shoulders, leaning in and kissing the pretty pink covering her pussy.  A gasp leaves her instantly, a hand going up to her mouth.  She’s always been sensitive, something that Francis adores.  He inhales the sweet scent just barely covered by the fabric, his eyes fluttering closed.

“C’mon…” She whispers, one of her hands going to his hair.  The locks of brown are so soft through her fingers.  She doesn’t mean to be impatient, she really doesnt- it’s just been so long that it’s so tempting to get straight to the main event.

“Can’t be patient for me, can you, darlin’?” He asks, pulling away and looking up at her.  A crooked grin on his lips.  His eyes still look so tired, but so attractive.  He doesn’t mind, this is for her after all.  He rubs his thumb over her sensitive nub through the fabric. “Sorry, my love, how long has it been since you came?”

His blunt question catches her off guard, causing her breath to hitch.  “I-I don’t know.” She stammers out. “A week?  Maybe?”

“Far too long since your last session then, huh?”

“I couldn’t find the time.”

“I’ll make up for lost moments then, my baby.”  He whispers, tugging the underwear to the side and exposing her glistening her cunt.  

She swallows and nods, letting out a breath of air and tugging his face close to her bare pussy.  “Please…  Please, Francis.”

A low moan leaves him, kitten licking at her slit and allowing her sweet arousal to coat his tongue and lips.  His thumb rubs lazy, small circles on her clit.  His brown eyes gaze up into hers, enjoying the look of immediate gratification on his lover’s face.  Her eyes are half-lidded in enjoyment and her hips grind upwards against his tongue.  His tongue enters her cunt just enough so he can feel her tremble around him.  Her thighs tighten around his head, earning a groan of pleasure from him as he knows he’s pleasing his beloved.  He mumbles something indecipherable against her cunt, his eyes closed as he starts to circle her nub with more vigor.  She’s close, he knows she is as her heels dig into his back.

She tugs his hair desperately, gasping and moaning.  Her back arches off the couch, the hand that’s not tugging his hair goes to cover her mouth so the neighbors don’t hear the sounds escaping her.

Francis tuts and pulls away just enough to talk, her love making his lips glimmer wetly.  “I want to hear you, my darlin’, I want to know how you feel.”

“Please don’t stop~!” She moans loudly, whimpering afterwards at the minor embarrassment that comes from knowing the neighbors must hear something.  He doesn’t offer any words back, going back to eating her out like his life depends on it.  “Fuck!”  Francis sighs and moans as her slick coats his tongue deliciously.  He licks her through her orgasm, his nose brushing her clit as she grinds her climax out.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl…”  He praises as he pulls away, her legs slip off his shoulders and remain trembling for a few moments.  He leans up to kiss her, she can taste her own cum on his lips.  She doesn’t mind, of course she doesn’t, as she kisses him back.  When the kiss is over, they’re both slightly out of breath before she chuckles.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, hm?  I’d love to give you something special too.” -- AH it's been too long since I wrote smut so I'm a little rusty, but this man (along with a couple others) has completely stolen my heart and the game has quickly became a comfort to me. I have a plan for a doppelgänger!Francis fic but who knows when it'll be out AND it'll certainly not be vanilla lol

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react to different insecurities part 3

Pairings: Nanami x overweight fem! reader (requested by @deegausserr) Choso x fem!reader with big breasts (requested by anon)

Yuji/Todo x tall/curvy fem!reader (requested by @sitarawrites, @hitori979, @sophyr05 and anon, I see y'all my tall queens)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: not 100% proofread, as usual don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, listen I literally have no boobs so I'm beyond sorry if Choso's part is shit, overweight and big breast parts contain insults (please note that this is definetely not the way I feel about it!) but also so much comfort from your favorite characters, you are beautiful just the way you are 🤍

Part 1: Nanami x reader with facial scars; Megumi x reader with small breasts; Sukuna x reader with acne (click here to read)

Part 2: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids; Gojo x reader who gained weight; Megumi x reader with hooked nose (click here to read)

Nanami with an overweight reader

(Imaging him grabbing those ass bully girls like this okay)

You cover yourself up the minute he enters the room. He, the man who caught your eye since the beginning. He, who looks so effortlessly good in that suit. He, a well-trained man with a body like the statues in ancient Greek.

“Hey, the same as usual?”

“Thank you, (y/n).”

Just him, Kento Nanami. And you? Well, you have nothing in common with all those things. To be exact, you aren’t even sure if he ever noticed you. Why would he? You are nothing but a worker in a coffee shop, average-looking and…

You swallow. You are overweight. Not that it would bother you this much. After all, you work hard for your money each and every day, you do your best to keep your head above the water. You never really felt the urge to lose weight until reality, or rather other people, hit you.

“Oh, look who’s working again!”

“Did you already eat all those muffins? How is it possible that when you’re working, all the food is gone around this time?”

There they are again. Breathe in, breathe out. Everything is alright. Just suffering a few minutes, just letting their words hit you a little longer and they’ll be gone again. You just have to get through this. It’s not like you haven’t heard those group of actual grown-ups say those nasty things to you over a hundred times already.

But no. Today, it isn’t that easy. Because on the table in front of you sits none other than Kento Nanami who reads his paper and sips on his cup of coffee like he always does. Why do you suddenly feel the urge to defend yourself, to make them stop talking to you like that?

“Can you guys just leave me alone? I’m doing my job here, okay? Would you like to drink or eat something-“

“Fat pig”, one of the blonde girls suddenly spits at you.

This is nothing new. You should be used to it by know, all the countless insults especially that group of four girls always spits at you are too much to even count. Then why…Why do your eyes roam to his perfectly trimmed blonde undercut, why do you ball your fist in an instant?

What a dumb mistake. One of the girls follows the direction of your sight, breaking out in hysterical laughing when realizing that you were looking at Kento Nanami. No, please don’t make a stupid comment, please just grab a coffee and leave this place. Even though it hurts to get reminded of the stinging fact that you are overweight almost every single day, what hurts even most is…

“I can’t believe you! Why would a fatass like you even look in his direction? Can’t you see that he’s out of your league? God, you are so pathetic it makes my wanna cry. I mean, don’t you have a mirror at home, can’t you see that you are nothing but a fat fuck? Nobody will ever want you, (y/n). Especially not a handsome man like him.”

It’s hard for Nanami to contain his temper, hand already trembling threatful. Who do these girls think they are to talk to you in such a nasty way? You are breathtakingly stunning with eyes that radiate nothing but kindness, you work so hard each and every day. You…

You don’t deserve this.

“Leave me alone”, you mumble again.

And for the first time in forever, your throat starts to burn as well as your eyes. At this point you were so used to getting picked on that you didn’t even cry about it anymore after some time. But this…this isn’t about your weight anymore. This hits you right where it hurts.

Kento Nanami.

You don’t even dare to look his direction, eyes pierced to the ground while their venomous laughs fill the room with hatred. The urge to just get out of here, to leave this place and never return becomes almost unbearable. Maybe…maybe you should really lose some weight. Your eyes dart towards the counter in whose glass your figure is reflected.

You feel absolutely horrible and disgusting. A silent sob escapes your lips. Yes, why would someone like Kento Nanami ever want someone like you?

“Awww look at her, now she’s crying!”

You can’t take the shame anymore. Without thinking twice, you storm out of the coffee shop, ignoring your co-worker calling out your name behind. It began to rain in waterfalls, your tears now mixing with the drops from above.

There was probably never a moment in your life where you hated yourself as much as now. What where you even thinking, getting all excited every morning because of that force of a man? Were you really too dumb to realize that Kento Nanami would never fall for a girl like you?

A fat pig, a person so undisciplined that it shows, a girl that could never wear his t-shirts as a dress. You are a nobody, an ugly figure in a world full of skinny models-

“(y/n)!”

That voice makes your guts turn in an instinct, heart pounding against your chest. You pick up your pace immediately, almost running down the rainy streets of Tokyo into an alley. Of course, he followed you. After all, Kento Nanami is a gentleman out of romance books, the perfect man. But you’d rather die that let him comfort you. No, you don’t want to hear that he’s sorry about their cruel words, you don’t want him to look down at you with his pity-filled eyes.

You simply can’t take it.

“Hey, (y/n). Please look at me.”

With a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and turns you around. You feel like dying right here and now, his chocolate brown eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

But then…

He pushes you against the wall and just kisses you. His lips collapse onto yours with so much passion that it simply takes your breath away, his eyes roaming around your body hungrily. You stare at him in sheer disbelief. Is this really happening? Are you dreaming? Countless lonely night, you imagined what it would feel like to have him this close, to feel his body against yours. And now…And now that gorgeous man pinned you against a wall.

“Don’t you dare to believe a single word they said. I promise you that they’ll never speak to you like this again. I made sure of that.”

It feels so surreal, almost too good to be true. Is he only doing this out of pity, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad? Your heart sinks painfully. Is that what this is about?

“You don’t have to do that so I’m feeling better”, you mumble against his lips.

Instinctively, you cross your arms in front of your chest, hiding you like you always do around him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel better”, he replies in an instant, hands gently untucking your arms to place his own around your waist.

“I’m saying this because I can’t take my eyes off you since I saw you the first time I stepped into this café. You have to be the most beautiful person I have ever seen, (y/n). I adore your delicate curves, your inviting smile, your unshakable character. I love the way your hair falls and how you prepare my coffee. I adore you just the way you are. Did you really think I’m there because of the coffee? It’s not that good if you’re asking me.”

His comment makes you giggle your tears away and shaking your head at the same time.

“Yeah, the coffee isn’t that great to be honest”, you comment.

“But you are.”

He looks down at you all serious again, his intense gaze making your knees go weak in an instant.

“And I want nothing more than to take you out to a nice restaurant.”

Choso with a reader who has big breasts

You were never keen to meet new people, especially men. Not because you aren’t talkative or enjoy others company. No, it’s because you never know how they’ll react when seeing you for the first time.

Even though especially other women are jealous of you because of how big your breasts are, you truly hate them. It seems like the second you meet someone, all they have eyes for is your cleavage. No matter if you wear a baggy shirt, your uniform or one of the dresses you normally adore so much, your boobs come first. And you fucking hate it.

“Hey, why are you so nervous, (y/n)? I’m sure you and Choso will get along just fine!”, Yuji tries to cheer you up with a kind smile.

“And probably your-“

“Shut up right now, moron”, Megumi mumbles instinctively.

You sign to yourself. It’s clear that he’s just trying to be nice and funny, but to be honest you want to cry. Since puberty hit you, no one ever saw you like an individual anymore. No, you are either sexualized or body-shamed.

“Would you crush me with your melons for some money? C’mon (y/n).”

“There she is again. Look at her tits!”

“She’s just showing off. What a slut.”

“I bet those would be a good ass pillow.”

You are so damn tired of it. Tired of all the people talking about you behind your back, tired of being nothing but a sex object, tired of having no character. Even though here at Jujutsu High, people seem to finally get that you are indeed a human being all by yourself and would never talk badly about you, you can feel their looks.

“Oh, there he is! Come on, (y/n)!”

No, no, no. Is it too late to just turn around and leave this place? Maybe Maki is still free, you should go and grab a drink with her. Or even better, barricade yourself into your dorm and return when this man is gone.

“You must be (y/n). My little brother told me a lot about you”, a dark voice introduces itself.

Your eyes dart up in panic. Oh, you just know how this goes. First of all, he’ll look down at your breasts. If he’s having at least a spark of decency, his eyes will dart back to your face and roam around when he thinks you’re not paying any attention. And maybe, just maybe, he won’t mention your cleavage for quite some time.

“Nice to meet you”, you mumble annoyed already.

Huh, his eyes rest right on your face, a small smile forming itself on his lips. You tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes in confusion. Well, this is definitely new. He didn’t even look at them, not a single glimpse onto your body.

“Is it true that you have a thing for blood manipulation? Yuji told me you are interested in learning more about that technique.”

“Well, yeah…”

You have to blink a few times. He is so…different from everyone else. Not even Megumi resisted the urge to look down at you, you even heard him talking about it with Yuji someday. But this man…what was his name again? Choso? He seems to be curious about…

You. Nothing but you.

“I am quite skilled when it comes to blood manipulation. If you want, I will gladly show you a few things.”

“Y-yeah…I mean…That would be nice. Like, today?”, you stutter awkwardly, completely caught off guard by this unexpected change of scenery.

“If you have time, of course.”

“Okay, then…I’ll change now.”

“I’ll meet you at the training field.”

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

As soon as you leave the room, Yuji seems to finally regain your voice.

“And? What do you think about her?”

“I think she seems quite nice for a human being.”

“And what else?”

A big pause that makes your heart shatter for a brief moment. Maybe he isn’t as different as you thought. Maybe he’s just thinking about your cleavage like everybody else does, maybe-

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Haven’t you seen her,…y’know…Megumi?”

“He means her breasts”, Megumi clarifies.

“Why would I look at her breasts when she seems to have an interesting character?”

Your heart almost beats out of your chest, ears literally unable to comprehend what you’ve just heard. It really shouldn’t touch you like that. But oh, the second you begin to realize what that stranger just said your eyes get glossy. It might only be a little statement for him, but it surely means the world to you.

In a world that shames on you for something you can’t change, in a world in which men only took you on dates or talked to you because of your breasts and not because of your personality.

Choso seems to be the first person who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck about the way you look. And oh does it feel nice.

“Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought”, you mumble to yourself.

Yuji and Todo with a cury/tall girl

Just one look at him seems to sweep you off your feet. The way he walks, the way he talks, simply the way he carries himself. It wasn’t hard to fall for Yuji, but it was definitely rough to find out he isn’t interested in you.

“What kind of woman is Yuji actually into?”

Nobara looked at you up and down, visibly bamboozled about what you’ve just asked. There aren’t many things she doesn’t think about, but Yuji Itadori’s type is definitely one of them.

“I don’t know girl…But I guess he’s the type for rather short girls, don’t ya think?”

You hated the way your heart instantly began to ache in your ribcage. Of course he does. Aren’t all boys nowadays into petite girls with a bubbly personality? And to be honest, you are none of that.

Taller than all the other girls and even some boys around Jujutsu High, curvier than anyone else, probably uglier than the rest. You never put much thought into all of these things, but right. Why would Yuji be any different from all the guys you’ve met before?

“Who the hell is this woman, Itadori?”

Todo can’t help but shamelessly stare at you. This is too good to be true, a sight straight out of his dreams. You…You are even better than Takada-chan.

“Huh? Oh, that’s (y/n)”, he replies with a small grin, just one look at you making his heart stumble all over again.

He hasn’t seen you in quite some time now that he thinks of it.

“What kind of woman is your type, Itadori Yuji?”

The pink-haired boy has to blink a few times, eyes still set on your delicious curves and gorgeous long legs.

“I like tall woman with a big ass.”

“Is that your final answer?”, he huge boy next to him urges, grabbing him by his uniform so roughly that his eyes yank away from you.

“Yes!”, he replies immediately.

“Then get going, we need to talk to this beauty over there”, he announces, dragging Yuji behind him before he is even able to reply.

You tilt your head to the side. What the hell is going on over there? Who is that shirtless guy and…is that Yuji he drags behind him as if he’s taking out trash?

“You!”, he shouts into your direction, eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

What the hell is this about? Should you run away, cry for help? He definitely looks pretty dangerous to you with the way his muscles seem to grow with every step he takes towards you.

“Hey, let me go! I can walk by myself!”, Yuji protests.

“Now talk to her”, Todo hisses, almost pushing him into you.

“Oh, hi (y/n)!”

“Well, hi Yuji…”, you answer rather confused.

You look even better from over here, your body lingering over his own by a few centimetres. Yes, you have to be the biggest woman Yuji has ever seen with a character so badass that no one can hold a candle to you. And those curves, those oh so delicious curves…

“Tell her what kind of woman is your type”, the guy next to him demands harshly.

“Stop being so damn loud, she hears you!”

“Oh, I definitely do. What is all of this bullshit about and what kind of freak are you exactly?”

“Itadori loves tall woman with a big ass.”

Well, that’s rather unexpected. Yuji turns as red as a tomato, not daring to shoot a single glimpse your way. But Nobara said that he likes petite girls and somehow, this always made sense to you. Still, his body doesn’t lie. And the fact that he doesn’t say anything against it tells you…

“You like tall woman with a big ass”, you repeat.

“Well, to be honest, I just like you, (y/n)”, he mutters along with scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I like you too. You have to be the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Let me cherish you for the rest of our lives”, the guy named Todo purrs.

“Hey, I thought you were my wingman and now you’re trying to steal my girl away from me!”, Yuji protests.

“When did I ever say that, moron? We might be brothers, but this right here is my girl-“

“WE ARE NOT BROTHERS AND (Y/N) IS NOT YOUR GIRL!”

“I’ve been crazy about you for so long. I can’t believe you actually find me attractive, Yuji”, you interrupt their little chitchat.

Your heart feels light as a feather, so good that you are almost think about giggling out in sheer joy.

“Are you kidding? You are what dreams are made of, (y/n)! I was just too shy to admit…”

“I’d never be too shy to show my love. Pick me, (y/n)!”

“GET AWAY FROM HERE!”

“I’M NOT LEAVING MY GIRL BEHIND!”

"That's enough, I'm leaving. See you around guys", you announce with a sly grin.

"OUCH, DID YOU JUST SLAP ME TODO!?"

"JUST THE WAY YOU DESERVE IT, ITADORI!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Are you sure they like each other? (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Barely edited and I don't know if I happy with this, but I wanted to put something out. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Alyssa and reader are together, but very stoic and not affectionate in public. Think the team know they're together, apparently not. Start to question if they even like each other. Alyssa and reader turn into soft, love sick people when alone.

Warnings: Tiny bit suggestive, some swearing

Words: 3.3K

Alyssa had slipped out, taking our bags up to the room while I was surrounded by some of the team. I had offered to help, but she had insisted I stay to catch up, leaving before I could protest. Neither of us would be considered extroverts, though I was the one who liked to talk a bit more. Kristie pulled me into a tight hug before a few of the girls following suit, "How was your break Y/n?"

"It was pretty good. Alyssa and I just took it easy. Spent some time fixing up some of the stuff around the house I haven't had the time to do. Visited family, that sort of thing."

Confusion covered their faces, Kelley being the first one to speak up, "Wait. You spent the break with Alyssa?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. Alyssa and I had been together for almost 5 years, living together for 3. It wasn't something that had been hidden. Our relationship wasn't public knowledge, but friends and family knew we were together, or so I thought anyway. We weren't an affectionate couple in public or even with our friends, barely ever touching past an occasional hand on the back, a short hug after a game or if we were going to be apart. Occasionally, we would hold hands at home with family or I would lay with my head in her lap during movie night. I loved Alyssa more than words would describe, there was no doubt in my mind she felt the same. Public affection just made us both very uncomfortable.  

"Why wouldn't I? We live together."

"Wait what? You and Alyssa live together?"

"You didn't know? We weren't hiding it. You know we're together right?"

Kelley looked as if I had grown a second head, "You and Alyssa are dating? No we didn't know that! What the hell Y/n?"

Alyssa's hand touched my lower back, letting me know she was there before dropping back to her side. "What's happening here? Why is there yelling?"

"Apparently they're just finding out we live together and have been together for the last almost 5 years."

"5 years?!? And you didn't tell us?"

Even Alyssa looked confused at this point, "What do you mean didn't tell you? It was never hidden. We assumed you knew."

Accusatory glares were sent our way while Alyssa and I just stood there confused. This was not how I expected my morning to go. "You've never kissed, held hands, cuddled or done anything remotely couple like. How were we supposed to know?"

"We've held hands a few times and I sleep against her on the bus sometimes. I get her coffee and breakfast every morning, Alyssa gets me flowers every week even at camp. Pretty sure we've mentioned our anniversary before. We say 'I love you' to each other all the time. Did none of you find that weird?"

"You're always sitting next to each other on the bus so no and we just figured you were close friends or something. I think there's been one time that you've gotten flowers from her in front of us."

"I've seen that a few times actually, but its always when she seems to have a bad day," Tierna spoke up. 

Alyssa shrugged, "Well yeah, I get them every week, but if she's having a bad day then I'll get them on that day to cheer her up. Look, we just don't like PDA, we weren't hiding anything from you. We really thought you knew about us. And before you even ask, no we're not going to prove it. Now we're going to our room."

As soon as we entered our room, I flopped down on the bed, scooting over slightly when Alyssa lay down next to me. I pushed myself into her arms, leaving kisses on her jaw, her hand slipping under my shirt to draw random patterns. "You unpacked my stuff."

Alyssa held me closer, kissing my forehead. People held the impression that Alyssa disliked physical touch, which she did with most people. In reality, Alyssa loved cuddling with me, she loved holding my hand and kissing me. Just touching in general actually. When we first started dating, it was a welcome surprise. I expected some affection, but not as much as I received. There was definitely no complaints from me, I loved cuddling with my partners. "I always do, don't I?"

"You do and I appreciate it, but you don-"

She cut me off with a quick peck before speaking up not giving me the chance, "My love, how many times have you said I don't have to, yet I do it anyway?"

"Pretty much every camp," I mumbled against her neck, knowing what her response was going to be. It was always the same.

"Exactly. I do it because I love you and I want to make your day a little bit easier so how about you just accept it and let me do it."

It wasn't that I didn't like it, in fact I loved that she did it. I just always felt slightly bad when people did things for me. "Fine. I still can't believe they didn't know about us. I really thought they did."

"So did I. Maybe they just don't listen to us at all. It was all kind of entertaining though."

"It was, I can't believe they were so clueless. I have a feeling Emily is going to be annoying though. She had her mischief face on."

Alyssa's hand traveled further up my side as she rolled on top of me, "Unfortunately, I think you're right, but right now there are other things I would rather do than talk about Emily."

---

Just as I sat down for breakfast, Emily and Kelley slid onto the chairs in front of me. They just stared at me until I snapped, asking what they wanted. This was not what I needed early in the morning especially when I had only been awake for like half an hour. Alyssa was always down for breakfast after me, preferring to take her time to get ready and do her puzzles, while I just wanted coffee. 

"So you and Alyssa are together right?"

"Uh yeah, why?"

"Just checking. How long have you been together?"

"Almost 5 years."

"How did you meet?"

I looked at between Emily and Kelley, trying to figure out why I was being interrogated once again, about my relationship. At this point, I was pretty sure the team believed we were lying or something. "You know this already."

"We forgot."

Alyssa approached, giving me a quick smile which I returned, "Perfect timing. I'm being interrogated about our relationship again."

"Why?"

I shrugged, pushing Alyssa's breakfast in front of her receiving a quite thank you. I didn't answer Kelley's question, instead deciding to eat breakfast before it got cold. "Are you two being forced to be together?"

Both of our heads shot up at that. It was such a ridiculous question. There would be no logical reason for us to be pretending to be together especially considering we weren't public knowledge. I bit back my laugh before answering, "What? What makes you think that? Why would that be a thing?"

Emily shrugged, "You just don't seem to like each other like that."

"Go away Kelley," Alyssa mumbled before going back to her breakfast. I ignored her again, getting up for Alyssa's coffee instead. When I returned, Kelley and Emily were still there, giving Alyssa a suspicious look. I handed Alyssa the cup before sitting down again.

"Thank you love."

Emily narrowed her eyes at us, "Suspicious."

Alyssa rolled her eyes while I flipped Emily off. This whole thing was starting to get old. "Go eat your breakfast."

Later that day, we were back in our room, enjoying the time we had before practice. Alyssa was reading, while I lay in the sun on the balcony. I started to want cuddles. I wouldn't say I was clingy because it was true. We could spend hours doing completely different things. Sometimes though, I just craved touching or being held by her. I gave her a few minutes before calling out to her, knowing she would come to me without hesitation.

Alyssa groaned, but got up, slipped off her shirt and sat down behind me with my head in her lap. We met in the middle, lips connecting briefly before I wiggled around to get into a better position. Alyssa eyebrows raised, amusement shining in her eyes, "Comfortable?"

I smirked, lacing my fingers with hers that rest on my stomach, "Very. Do you like me Lyssa? Is someone forcing you to date me?"

"Not even a little bit. Don't you know I'm only with you for your body?" 

"That's what I thought. Maybe I should confess that I'm only with you for your abs."

She smirked at my response, "I had my suspicions. You're obsessed."

"Not my fault they're great abs."

Fingers ran through my hair as Alyssa leant down to kiss my forehead, "You know I love you right Y/n/n? I don't want you to ever doubt that because I don't show you affection in public."

"You know how I feel about PDA, I don't like it, I never have. I have never once doubted your love for me Alyssa and I hope you haven't doubted mine. I love you."

"Good. I have never doubted your love either."

---

Anger and worry coursed through me when I saw Alyssa go down. It was always my worst fear during games, but it didn't really happen during practice. I know we got competitive, there was no reason for it to happen during practice though. I ran up, kneeling beside her, hand grabbing hers, "Are you okay Lys?"

"This ones going to hurt," Alyssa winced, but quickly grabbed my arm when I turned to Rose who had taken her out. "Hey, it's not her fault, it was an accident. Go see if she's okay and be nice."

I took a breath to calm myself down before walking up to Rose. Rose started fidgeting nervously as I walked up to her, "Hey, are you okay Rose?"

"Y-yeah. S-sorry"

I hugged her, feeling her relax against me. Hugs weren't necessarily my favourite thing except when it was with Alyssa, but I knew Rose liked them and I didn't want her to feel bad. It wasn't actually her fault. "Rosie, it was an accident. Don't beat yourself up because of it, but maybe don't make a habit of taking out out keeper during practice, we kinda need her."

---

"You guys coming to dinner?"

"Uh yeah, just going to drop our stuff off."

Once we were in our room, Alyssa sat on the edge of the bed as I knelt behind her, arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely. She lent back against me with a sigh, kissing my hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Think my shoulder might bruise, but I'm okay hun. Don't worry so much."

I lift her shirt over her head, lips meeting the spot that was already starting to bruise then moving around to her neck, cheek and lips, "You know I can't help worrying about you, even if it's a bit ridiculous."

Alyssa turned around, pushing me back and hovering over me, "Well, I'm the same so I can't really say anything. I love you Y/n/n."

I looped my arm around the back of her neck, pulling her down so I could peck her lips, "I love you Lys, but you need to get off cause we need to go down for dinner."

She rolled off me with one final kiss before standing up, "Fine."

"Shirt."

---

My eyes fluttered open to the feeling of lips being pressed to every part of my face and neck. I giggled, arms wrapping around her neck to bring her lips to mine. You wouldn't guess it, but Alyssa always kissed me softly, as if I was something precious. It honestly drove me crazy. 

Alyssa pulled away slowly, grin plastered across her face, "Happy anniversary love."

My grin matched her, as I pecked her lips, "Happy anniversary Lys. I love you."

We spent a little longer in bed than usual, lazy kisses and cuddles shared before reluctantly dragging our selves out of bed and into the shower. Unfortunately, we had training today so we couldn't give in to the clear desires we both had, instead rushing through the shower and downstairs before there was anymore temptation and we ended up late. 

Alyssa and I were discussing dinner plans when we walked into the meal room. We never went out on our anniversary, always staying in and just being with each other in the comfort of our own home. This year was different because we were in a hotel, but we would make do. Just as we sat down, Kelley sat across from us, our conversation ending as we waited for her to say something. "Do you guys even like each other? I mean you guys just seem so indifferent around each other, sure you talk and even joke around sometimes, but it's no different then if you were talking to team mates, we've never heard you talk about anything remotely relationship like."

My arm rest on the back of Alyssa's chair, playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck. That wasn't a usual occurrence, but it was our anniversary. I was feeling a mix of different, slightly overwhelming emotions from love to happiness, and nerves from the fact I was proposing tonight. I just wanted to be close to her right now and the usual leg against mine wasn't enough. Alyssa must have sensed it because her hand rest on my thigh under the table, squeezing gently as I spoke, "Of course we do. We were literally just talking about our plans tonight for our anniversary."

"That was talk about your anniversary? It sounded like you were talking about grocery shopping."

"We were, but in relation to our anniversary."

"So what are you going to do for your anniversary?"

"Chill out in our hotel room. We never do anything big."

"Yeah okay. That tracks with the appearance of your relationship."

Alyssa had gone back to our room after training while I had gone to the store to pick up a few snacks to sneak in and some flowers for her. She always got me flowers so I wanted to return the favour for once. We were planning on ordering in and watching movies before likely ending the night doing inappropriate cuddling.  It was our favourite way to spend our anniversaries. Thankfully, we had an off day tomorrow so we could get away with it. 

After placing the bag down on the table, I called out for Alyssa, getting a response from the bathroom almost instantly. My arms wrapped around Alyssa when she emerged from the bathroom, leaving a lingering kiss against her lips. Her eyes dropped down to the bouquet in my hand, a small smile appearing. "This isn't your actual gift, but you always get me flowers so I thought it was my turn. Your gift is running late."

"They're beautiful, thank you Y/n/n. You know you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but you also always get me something despite me saying the same thing, therefore shut up."

Alyssa laughed, pushing me away gently and taking the flowers, "You speak to me so romantically my love."

I pulled her back into me, peppering her face with kisses, "I love you."

"I love you. I ordered dinner already, it should be here soon. Also here," Alyssa handed out a small wrapped box. Inside was a gold chain with a small keepers glove attached. It was something I had mentioned wanting, a way to have her close when she wasn't there physically. 

"You remembered. I love it Lys."

"Of course I did."

After a short make out session and dinner, we cuddled up in bed to watch a movie. Maybe 15 minutes had passed before I started getting restless. My focus dropped from the movie, instead playing with Alyssa's fingers. I never was the best at staying still. My mind soon drifted to the pool downstairs, it had been a while since I got to go and the urge was suddenly there.  

When I shifted position once again, Alyssa chuckled and paused the movie, "I've lost you haven't I?"

I grinned up at her, kissing her softly. Alyssa always knew me so well. "Do you want to go swimming? It's late so no one will be around."

Alyssa knew I loved swimming so she agreed pretty easily, after some teasing of course. We made our way down to the pool, both wearing tank tops and shorts. No one was around so it didn't matter what we wore. I jumped straight in, swimming around a bit while Alyssa sat on the edge of the pool. After a few minutes, I swam up between Alyssa's legs resting my arms on them as I lent up connecting our lips in a lingering kiss. 

"Come in."

"It's cold."

"Love, it's a heated pool."

"Okay fine, I just enjoy watching you swim around."

"But, if you come in then we can cuddle, kiss," My hand ran up the inside of her thigh, "Touch."

Alyssa instantly slid into the pool, arm wrapping around me and pulling me against her. "You're a tease."

My hands slipped under her tank top, nails scratching down her back and over her stomach, "It's only teasing if I leave it at that. Just wait until we get ba-"

A loud voice interrupted the moment, annoyance crossing Alyssa's face as she stepped back slightly, but didn't let me go. "Oh my god! They really are together."

I groaned, turning to glare at Emily and Kelley, "Fuck off and stop ruining our anniversary."

Once they were out of sight again, I pulled myself out of the pool, Alyssa rest on my legs as I had done earlier. "What are you doing?" 

I pulled the towel that I had hidden the little black box in closer. Inside was a a plain gold band with a round cut diamond. Alyssa didn't often wear jewelry and she liked simple things so I knew she would love it. "I have something for you."

"You waited until we were at the pool to give it to me?"

"Well it wasn't the original plan, but I got nervous." My fingers laced with hers, Alyssa looking up at me curiously. "Never in my life did I think I would fall for someone as hard or fast as I did with you. From the boring, quiet days at home spent doing housework or errands to the movie nights and dinner dates, I love living life with you. I love the adventures we've had, I love working with you, fuck, I just love being with you Alyssa. I look forward to every new day because I get to do it with you. With you by my side, anything is possible. This is a shit speech, but I'm nervous and you love me anyway."

Alyssa chuckled, tears already forming in her eyes before I revealed the little box. "I love you Alyssa, I love you so much more than I thought possible. I want to live life with you forever. With that being said, Alyssa Naeher will you marry me?"

Arms wrapped around my waist tightly, lips connecting with mine, in a soft, emotional kiss, "Yes, yes I will marry you Y/n."

I slipped the ring on her finger, connecting our lips again. Alyssa pulled away too soon for my liking, reaching for her own towel, pulling out a black box similar to the one I had moments before. Alyssa opened it, revealing a plain rose gold band with three small gems set into it. I soon realised it was both our birth stones and one I wasn't quite sure of. "You beat me to it, but will you marry me Y/n?"

"I suppose I can't say no seeing as I just gave you a ring."

Alyssa laughed, sliding the ring onto my finger before kissing me again. "These are our birthstones, what's this one?"

"When we first started dating."

"I love it, I love you."

A crash from behind us instantly caught our attention. About half the team stood there, sheepish smiles in place and a phone pointed in our direction. Seeing as they were caught, everyone started talking over each other, congratulations being thrown our way. I rolled my eyes, turning back to Alyssa. "Let's get out of here before they surround us. We have celebrating to do."

[kotoku]

Hey, can I request Aventurine and Sunday with Yaoyao! reader?

It will be cute to see two older mans being take care by the small child with adult soul. 🥺❤️

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʏᴀᴏʏᴀᴏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & yaoyao! reader / aventurine & yaoyao! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling or family dynamics

warnings - none, except the yaoyao part might be ooc (apologies!)

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Sunday, after dealing with an issue at the reception, would be wandering the area to survey if there would be any more troublesome occurrences

↻ His first meeting with you would be him spotting you attending to a distressed Misha, who fell over with his bell cart and had sustained forming bruises on his knees

↺ He watched on curiously as you used a cold water bottle to reduce the swelling, giving the boy a small scolding and advising him to follow a list of remedies you wrote on a piece of paper

↺ Sunday would make his way over shortly after, helping the bellboy up and letting him take the day off to treat his injuries (he notified a medic to assist him)

↻ Sunday who was caught off guard by your seemingly young age, would ask if you had come with your parents to which you would give a shake of your head to

↺ He’s concerned about the fact you are alone in a bustling place such as Penacony, he had ensured that the place is safe for all individuals but why would a kid be there in the first place..?

↻ He would have a small walk and talk with you, showing you around the lobby and listing what Penacony has to offer as you seemed clueless about the place

↺ At one point he thought he had lost you, turning around to see that you had disappeared, giving him a mini heart attack

↺ Turns out, you were talking to the origami birds and showing them the little friend that you had brought along with you (Yuegui ˆˆ)

↻ When the small tour concluded, the two of you waved goodbye and went on your separate ways (Sunday made sure that you got to your room safely, watching you roam around and chat with other guests)

↻ Sunday didn’t know if he’d see you again in the dreamscapes, but he prayed for your safety during your stay at Penacony

↻ … He ends up finding you tending to the Trailblazer who had made their appearance in Golden Hour

↺ After helping the Trailblazer regain their bearings, Sunday would introduce you to his sister and the Trailblazer 

↻ From there on out, he’d start seeing you around more (usually helping people with anything concerning them)

↺ Whether it’s offering dishes or varying teas, you always had something on hand to offer if someone was feeling unwell (both mentally and physically)

↻ Whenever you bumped into Sunday, you two always engaged in a conversation

↺ The topics would range from how was each other’s day to debates about the best locations in the dreamscape

↺ From here, the two of you learned a lot about each other and basically adopted a father-daughter/older sibling-younger sibling relationship (although, he felt like the younger one here…)

↻ If you spotted Sunday feeling unwell or stressed, you’d scold him for continuing to work in such conditions, sitting him down and offering anything that could help his condition

↻ You’d recommend treatment options whenever he came to you about a certain health concern he had, providing him lots of information so that he was educated about the issue

↻ You would bring Sunday a treat, maybe one of his favorites in Penacony or from distant worlds, to help him cheer up or feel better

↻ It was weird at first, but Sunday had grown accustomed to your doting self and was really appreciative that you took the time to help him with his troubles

↺ He never really liked relying on anyone, but you always reassured him (he felt like he learned a lot from you)

------

“Sunday…” “Hm? Yes, _____?” “Are you feeling alright? You look like you haven’t been getting rest…”

Seeing the formation of dark circles around his eyes gave you a pang of worry, fearing that he was overworking himself to the point of exhaustion. But through it all, Sunday still gave you a smile.

“I’ll be alright, _____.” “Not if you get enough rest and take some time to relax. Doctor’s orders!”

------

↻ sigh This man would be such a hassle for you

↻ You found Aventurine sitting on a bench in Golden Hour, seemingly contemplating something but looking a bit distressed

↺ When you walked up to him, his demeanor took a sudden turn, a friendly smile greeting you (however, they never met his eyes)

↺ But you knew better, despite being told that you would be too young to understand, you knew that this was a front the man decided to put up (yet you never wanted to overstep your boundaries)

↻ You stayed to keep him company, telling each other stories that the both of you have encountered before coming to Penacony 

↺ You inquired about his eyes and how pretty they were, learning a little bit about his Sigonian background but never delving too deep

↻ From the day that the two of you had first met, a friendship had been established (Aventurine didn’t really take it seriously at first but he warmed up a bit to you)

↻ Aventurine wasn’t used to your friendly personality; if he had one word to describe you it would be warm

↺ Warm like the tea you brought him, the dishes you had made, the comfort you provided.. It all felt so foreign to him but it comforted him so deeply

↻ He’d treat you like a kid/little sibling, teasing and joking about you which you always pouted at (scolding him for being so mean)

↺ If his teasing was enough to make you upset and tear up, he’d quickly apologize and offer to treat you to one of your favorite dining spots 

↻ Despite treating you like a kid, there were times that he felt like he was a child with how you scolded him for being so reckless, sitting him down and telling him to take a step back

↺ If he was injured, you’d help patch up his injuries and advise him a list of self-treatment options, if he was stressed or feeling upset, you’d be there to talk to and offer some calming tea

↻ As a way to cheer him up or help him loosen up a bit, you’d bring out Yuegui and set them down on Aventurine’s lap

↺ Initially, he was confused and almost wanted to laugh, in fact, he did, but it made him feel a bit better 

↺ He’d inspect the little guy inquisitively, asking you about their origin and what world you found them on

↻ Aventurine would show you around Penacony (golden hour), introducing you to some of his personal favorite spots

↺ You found some of them a little concerning, but whatever makes him happy…

↻ He’d show you around the casino, the loud and chaotic atmosphere of it almost overwhelmed you but you kept your cool, finding interest in the slots and different things they had to offer (not really a child-friendly atmosphere however…)

↻ With your introduction to the casino, you’d get to see how bad Aventurine’s gambling addiction was

↺ It really worried you how he was so willing to gamble everything away, how easy it was for him to just discard everything

↺ That fact made you feel a bit upset, almost wanting to run out and find comfort in other things

↺ But you stayed for Aventurine’s sake, just in case he got into any trouble 

↻ When the two of you finally leave the casino, you hesitate to tell Aventurine about your feelings and concerns, the air rising a bit in tension as he is confused about your sudden change in attitude

↺ After some time walking, you tell him what has been bothering you and he sits you down on a bench, bending down to your level with a sigh

↺ Aventurine couldn’t make any promises to you, but he’d try, for your sake, to stay safe while doing something dangerous (whether he’s on business, he’s gambling, etc…)

------

“Now that you are feeling better… How about we go get some of your favorite stir fry, hm?” Aventurine smiled, getting up from his bent position and dusting himself off. “My treat.”

Slightly sniffling, you rubbed your nose and got up from the bench. Looking up at him with your own smile and warm eyes, you nodded your head. 

“That sounds delicious, let’s go!”

------

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - as promised ˆˆ

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee

Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33

Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!

The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.

You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.

‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.

‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.

Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.

This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.

They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.

So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.

‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.

‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.

Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.

‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.

‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.

The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’

‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.

‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.

‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.

‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.

You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Could i request a platonic shy reader the gang just basically adopts? Her home life is rough so she basically stays on the curtis couch. Darry made her really nervous at first but she realizes he's just a big sweetheart and is very soft with her when she comes over with a fever just not feeling well? All the gang pitching in to help her feel better?

Summary: you're sick and the gang tries to help you feel better

Warnings: none

Authors note: none

Every second that passed only made your body ache more. You were stuck in a tug of war between pain and uncomfortableness, the fever that you have putting pressure on you that made you weak frame shake. You were currently laying on the couch in the Curtis brothers house swaddled in blankets provided by Darry.

Darry would often peek his head in to check up on you, giving you a fresh damp towel and adjusting your blankets gingerly. You would always instinctively curl up towards him, even though he used to scare you out of your wits you'd grown to love him like a teddy bear.

Pony and Soda walked in, kneeling by your makeshift bed.

"Your mom called, she wants you home," Pony whispered. You shut your eyes and sighed before shaking your head.

"I don't want'a" you mumbled, pulling the blankets over your head and knocking of the paper towel. Soda pulled the blanket down slightly and reapplied the compress.

"We know, Y/n" he said, soothingly. Suddenly the door cracked open slightly, you squeezed the blankets in fear, thinking it wad your family here to come pick you up, however the rest of the gang stumbled in.

"Look who I found drinking outside," Steve said, pointing at Dally, Johnny and Two Bit boisterously before immediately quieting down when seeing you.

"Woah, what's happening here?" Johnny asked, his voice as quiet as a mouse like he was trying not to disturb people.

"Y/n's got a pretty nasty fever," Darry said sternly, closing the door to stop the light from hurting your sensitive eyes.

"Awww, poor baby," Two Bit cooed obnoxiously before settling down on the floor near the couch.

"How ya feeling kid?" Dally asked, handing you a cigarette.

Darry smacked it out of his hands, "That will probably make it worse," he scored Dally but he just shrugged and kicked his feet up.

"Steve, what was that tea you made me when I was sick. Your mom's recipe or something. It worked wonders for me, make it for them," Soda observed and Steve nodded.

"Alright, who wants to come to the store with me," Steve said, pulling out a wad of cash and counting his bills.

"I'll go, I need to get soup for Y/n," Darry said, grabbing the keys to his worn truck.

"And I'm gonna go get a couple more beers," Dally said smugly, getting up and stretching before heading out the door.

"And I'm going to take all of Dallys beers," Two Bit joked and followed him out. Soda, Steve and Darry followed.

The door closed and silence enveloped you.

"Finally, they're gone." Pony said, sitting next to you with a thick book. Johnny sat next to him.

"What're readin'?" You mumbled trying to catch a glimpse of the title.

"Gone with the wind, want me to read it outloud?" He asked.

You nodded eagerly and Johnny hummed a noise of approval too.

"Alright, just promise that you'll sleep after this chapter," he said, you huffed but smiled as Pony started reading.