#but the times it DOES slow down even a teeny bit

[storm-driver]

im not complaining that the manga is taking a while, but the kh3 manga is gonna show us the scene of ventus and roxas interacting finally in the next chapter and im rattling back and forth at the idea of the artist depiction

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

word count: 3.5k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

Part 2 >

[onskepa]

Hey saw tou were open!!

Could you do a ronal x platonic female reader, who is having her first mother's day as a new mom. She goes to ronal and explains the earth holiday. As part of her tradition she gives ronal a mother's day gift and ronal gets to see cute teeny tiny human baby!

Hellooooooo~!! So when I read this one, I knew just where to put it! Enjoy~!!

Irayo pt1

-------------

Irayo: Best mama's around!

Ronal kept herself busy these past few days. More busy than usual. Anything to distract the lingering worry of her friend, Irayo. It has been 8 days now, Ronal counted since her last visit. Not just ronal who worries, but her daughter young tsireya is now questioning where her auntie is. Her, and slowly the villagers begin to worry. 

Not to make her worries any better, Ronal has no way to communicate with Irayo. She remembers clearly, the last time she was her friend. Everything was fine that day, irayo behaved normal, acted as normal as she could be. Made another set of friendship bracelets, helped take care of tsireya, did her part in the village. Everything was normal. 

So why now is she gone? Are the sky demons preventing her from returning? Did they deem her useless now? Is she alright? 

So many questions linger in Ronal's mind. Anything she does, her worries are not calmed down. If by day 10 irayo does not return, ronal can only fear the worse. 

“A little bit dramatic, don't you think?” Irayo asks as she plays patty cake with little tsireya. Ronal was too busy hugging her from the side, saying how worried she was and what possible routes irayo was going through. 

“Not dramatic, only worried,” Ronal says, a bit stubbornly. 

Irayo can only laugh at the tsahik’s antics. 

“What happened? Why were you gone for many days?” Ronal finally asks. Needing to know if whatever happened, that irayo was alright. 

“I am fine, its just I wasnt feeling well and I had to be examined to find out what was wrong” irayo answers. This made Ronal more worried. “And? Are you well? Why didnt you come to me? I could have helped you” ronal gently scolded. Irayo only shook her and answered in her own way. 

She smiled and grabbed Ronal by the hands, guiding them to her belly. 

“I am pregnant” 

Those three words echoed in ronal’s head, slowing taking in what the human just said. Her eyes were wide, almost unbelieving what she said. 

Irayo laughed at Ronal’s reaction. Tsireya laughs as well even though she doesn't know why. 

“And who is the fool who believes he is worthy of you?” 

Word spread of Irayo’s return and the news of her pregnancy, the people went a bit wild. Welcoming her back, many gave her gently hugs, being mindful of her belly. Even though irayo said she was only 2 weeks pregnant, none took it lightly. Pregnancy at an early stage, any stage really, is the most important. Anything can happen. 

So the villagers, and by extension ronal and tonowari, made sure irayo only did safe, light tasks. Some had given her many things for her baby when its born. Children would follow irayo and ask her so many questions, like what is the difference between a na’vi baby and a human baby. Will the baby be blue or a different color? Small or big? Cute or ugly? 

So many things and Irayo was just happy to resume it all. Even more now that soon, her little one will get to experience the same excitement as she does. Her stage is still early, but no doubt her motherly instincts kicked in. 

As time goes on, ronal allowed irayo to take care of tsireya more often, to practice in how to take care of a baby. Would talk about her experiences in taking care of an infant and so on. However Ronal does not know how much of the information will be useful to her friend. As she does not know how different a human baby is to a na’vi baby. 

And as the months go by, ronal witnesses irayo’s belly growing. While she may not fully show it, Ronal is secretly excited for the baby to arrive. One day, when Irayo was 4 months pregnant, she asked a sudden question. 

“Would you like to feel the baby?” 

This question surprised ronal. 

In na’vi customs, pregnant females only allow their mates or really close family members to touch their bellies.

Is it the same for humans? 

“Can I…?” Ronal asks hesitantly. 

Irayo nods and gently places ronal’s bigger hands onto her growing belly. 

“The baby is still small, but in future months, they will move and might even kick,” irayo explains. Being still, Ronal can sense a small heart beat. From her experience, this small heart beat sounds healthy. 

“You baby is strong,” she comments. Irayo giggles, she doesn't doubt ronal. She can feel her baby. 

“Baby?” little tsireya echos the word as she waddles over to the two mothers. Practicing how to mother with the little one, irayo feels she is ready. But slight doubt still lingers in her. 

Playing with the child's hair, Irayo confesses her inner struggles. 

“Ronal…do you think I will be a good mother?” she asks. 

Ronal looks at her friend, a sad smile on the human's face. “Of course you will be. Perhaps not perfect, but a good mother. I have seen you around my child, with the villagers' children. Why think you will not be?” 

“I don't know, maybe it is just my mind playing games. I see how you raise tsireya, when she was born to now. You are wonderful to her. You have far more experience than I. the other women, I see how they handle their babies. I fear that whatever I will try, it won't be enough. That maybe I will fail and-” 

Ronal places her hands gently on irayo’s cheek, making her look at her. 

“You will be a wonderful mother to your baby. Anything you will do, shall do, will be seen as perfection to your baby because it will be all that they know. I am not perfect irayo, no one else. I make my own mistakes, but we learn and so will you” 

“Learn!” tsireya repeated. 

Both ladies look down at the little girl with soft smiles. 

Irayo leans a bit to kiss tsireya’s head. 

“At least my baby will have someone to look up to”

9 months had come to completion. Ronal wasnt able to see irayo for a while. Irayo explained she will need to be under constant supervision since the due date was nearing. Ronal understood, but the inner fears and anxiety creeps every night. 

Will irayo be alright? Will the birth be safe? Will the baby be healthy? 

So many questions, ronal even suggested she helps to deliver the baby. Willing to push aside her own personal views of the sky demons for the sake of her friend. While irayo was happy, she couldn't. 

And it wasn't for another 3 months that finally, irayo returned. This time she wasn't alone. 

She came to the village with her baby. 

Everyone was so ecstatic! 

They all surrounded her and her baby. Welcoming her back and welcoming the baby as well. Her baby was so cute! Mothers praised the little one, seeing how healthy the baby looked. And many more for being curious, it was the first time they have seen a human baby! Who knew they could be adorable? 

However the crowd was quickly disbursed by the presence of ronald and tonowari with tsireya in her father’s arms. 

Ronal of course was the first to hug irayo, letting out a long relieved sigh. 

“Thank Eywa you have returned” she whispers. Looking at irayo, she didnt know if it was the sun, or something else but the human had a natural glow in her physic. That motherly glow all females have after birth. It made irayo look stunning. 

“I am happy to be back,” irayo says. 

Soft babbles were heard, in the small bassinet was the human baby. 

Leaning down, ronal took a good look at the human baby. 

“Has your eyes…” she comments. 

The baby stared at ronal, no fear, only fascination. 

“Would you like to carry my baby?” Irayo asks, knowing ronal wants to. Without needing to answer, ronal carefully and gently holds the baby into her arms. 

“Baby!” tsireya squeals. 

Tonowari chuckles, “yes me’ite, it is a baby. We must be careful and be gentle” he says, tsireya nodding. 

“Your baby is so beautiful…oh Eywa, maybe you bless this baby with a great life and a wonderful future” ronal prays. 

Tonowari gestures irayo to a certain direction, “come, there is much to talk about”

Tsireya was entertaining the baby, showing many toys and singing little songs. Never keeping her eyes away from her new friend. 

Irayo sits beside ronal, “I have a gift for you~” she teases. 

“I wonder what it could be” 

Already knowing what it is. 

As predicted, irayo brought out 4 bracelets, “new BFF’s bands!” irayo says happily. 

Carefully tying it around ronal’s wrist, doing the same for herself, tsireya and her baby. “We shall commemorate this day as our first mother’s day!” she goes on. 

Ronal looks at her curiously. 

“Mother’s day? What is that?” 

“Mother’s day is a human tradition. Once a year on a special day, we celebrate our mothers. Giving them gifts, a day to relax, and appreciating them overall. So, this is my gift to you and to myself. It is not often celebrated here with my co-workers but at least I can celebrate it with you!” irayo happily answers. 

Looking down at her new bracelet, tracing over the beads and sea glass, she likes it. 

“Gifts huh…well then, I have a gift for you as well” ronal says. 

This makes irayo get closer, already excited. 

“What is it?” irayo answers. Ronal answers deadpanned. 

“I am pregnant” 

NGL I got carried away but I like it! So, until next time! See ya!

[l0vem41l]

something's wrong with the morning.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing

author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽｀) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!

"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"

dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.

“gm.”

you sent two letters. and a period at the end.

immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.

you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.

so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?

of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.

but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.

the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.

more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.

there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit

nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.

maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.

or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.

was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?

either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.

later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??

“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”

he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.

before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.

“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”

you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.

“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”

he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.

"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.

he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[harmonicakai]

Be Around Me

Part 1 of the "Love is Embarrassing" series

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader, Ricky x Reader (one-sided), Haobin crumbs, Jiwoong x Reader teeny tiny crumbs 

Summary: Gyuvin is the type of guy to get flustered over everything, but little does he know that you secretly think it makes him even cuter.

Tropes: basketball star!gyuvin, journalist!reader, college AU, basketball!zb1, frat!zb1, secret admirer, fluff, slow burn, crack, unrequited love, mutual pining, gyuvin is a LOSER

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Ricky is annoying lol, mentions of masturbation and sex (mdni!!!)

A/N: y’all will have pry zb1 college basketball au from my cold dead hands!!!!!!!! also for once in my life, y/n is not super insecure we cheered!!

FIC INSPIRED SPOTIFY PLAYLIST <3

“It's obvious she's so out of reach And I'm finding it hard 'cause She makes me feel, makes me feel Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard” —Try Hard, 5 Seconds of Summer

On the court, Kim Gyuvin is the star player of the Wakefield Roses. With his long limbs, he handles the ball with ease, capturing the hearts of everybody in the crowd every time he grins after scoring a basket.

Off the court, he’s an awkward mess. Combine that with the fact that you, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, are usually the one covering games for the school news, and he’s a goner.

As if it isn’t hard enough for him to make eye contact with the camera, he also has to make sure he doesn’t stare too hard at your shiny hair or glossy lips. His teammates would never let him live it down if he was caught being an absolute creep on video.

What started out as a little crush has grown into a deep admiration. He reads every article that you put out into the school newspaper, sometimes even cutting out the ones you’ve written about him and his team. Everybody makes fun of him for being too scared to just ask you out.

He’s never been one to flirt with girls, but the way you make conversations so easy during interviews, even when he’s stumbling over his words, makes him feel at ease around you. Still, he wonders how much of it is just your journalist persona versus you actually liking him.

Sharing a double with Ricky means he gets exiled a lot in the name of his roommate getting laid. Sometimes, you come back from getting your morning coffee and catch him sleeping on one of the lounge’s couches.

One morning, when your arms are full of pastries that you intend to hoard in your dorm for the upcoming week, you spot him curled up yet again on your way back to your room. 

Without much thought, you stop to leave a muffin and a little note next to it on the table in front of him, conveniently forgetting to sign your name.

It began with cutesy but vague things, like “breakfast for a champion,” but quickly escalated as soon as Gyuvin started leaving notes back for you. 

After a couple exchanges, he even wrote that you didn’t need to be leaving him food at all and that he just wanted to know who you were. Truthfully, you had a really big crush on Gyuvin, but didn’t everybody?

Despite being a bit camera shy, he was always so sweet before and after your interviews, doing his best to make small talk and smiling his smile that could make anybody swoon. 

Plus, you’ve seen how much more comfortable he is with other people, even the cheerleaders, who are all super pretty. He must just be really nice.

So, you continue to leave the notes unsigned, despite each one growing in flirtation. You like the thrill of being mysterious, but you’re mostly just scared of getting rejected since he’s never given you a reason to think he likes you back.

It isn’t until Ricky catches you one morning, a sly grin on his face when he sees you leaving a whole stack of notes on the table.

When you lock eyes with Gyuvin’s roommate, you know the jig is up. Surely, he’ll tell him it’s been you all along.

“Y/N,” Ricky nods when you approach him, his arms crossed. “I have to say, I had my suspicions.”

“Listen, Ricky, I would prefer if we could keep this between us.”

“Gyuvin’s been going on and on about some secret admirer for weeks now. It’s cruel that you won’t tell him who you are.”

“He’s welcome to stop writing back if he doesn’t want to,” you shrug, although it would probably devastate you if that actually happened.

“Oh, trust me, he wants to. Especially if he found out it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that every time he finishes an interview with you, he might always run home and lock himself in our bathroom because you get him so riled up. If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes go wide at the revelation. Ricky is surely just messing with you. “That’s—that’s not funny, Ricky. You shouldn’t joke about those kinds of things.”

“I’m not joking,” he chuckles. “Listen, Zeta Beta Omega is throwing a party tonight and the whole team will be there. You should come.”

“I don’t do parties,” you scoff. “Why would you even want me there?”

“Because maybe after a few drinks, you and Gyuvin won’t be so scared to tell each other how you feel. Then you guys can knock off this silly game and he can stop whining about not knowing who his mystery girl is.”

“And go back to whining about how all his roommate does is kick him out every night so he can fuck whoever he lays his eyes on?”

“Exactly. See, Y/N, you get me,” he practically purrs. “So, you show up looking all pretty and talk to my poor, lovesick roomie, and I won’t spill your little secret. Deal?”

“Ugh, fine, I guess. I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me. Deal.”

“Trust me, it’s for your own good, sweetheart.”

You cringe at the pet name. “Is this how you talk to everybody?”

“Yes. Why? Is it working? Are you going to start leaving me notes too?”

“Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ricky. I’ll see you later,” you say, walking past him. Even if he’s annoying, it’s genuinely impressive how he managed to brush off every insult you threw his way.

“See you, Y/N.” You don’t even have to look back at him to know that he winked as he said that.

—————-

Gyuvin knows that staying up all night waiting around for his mystery girl would be an invasion of privacy. At least he thinks the person who keeps leaving him baked goods and notes is a girl. Or maybe he’s just being hopeful that it’s you.

He’s never seen your handwriting before, but he’s been close enough to smell your perfume and he swears he can catch hints of it wafting off the sticky notes.

In fact, he’s started looking forward to Ricky kicking him out of their shared bedroom just because he knows he’ll be waking up to the sweetest surprise when he sleeps in the lounge.

Tonight’s party should be a good distraction from all of the wondering. Maybe, if he’s drunk enough, Ricky will be more embarrassing than alluring and Gyuvin will get to sleep in his own bed. Still, he can’t get this morning’s notes off his mind. 

You’ve left him clues, little doodles of your favorite things. Your coffee order, favorite color, favorite animal, and so on. He’s hoping you’ll be at tonight’s party so he can see if you mention any of the stuff drawn out, but you never show up to these kinds of things.

That was before Ricky got involved. You stood outside the ZBO frat house wearing your worst sneakers and a baby pink minidress, as suggested by one of your suitemates.

If only you didn’t show up by yourself. There were a few familiar faces from class, and of course, the entire basketball team, but nobody you were really friends with. All you could focus on was how sticky the floor was and how much you needed a drink.

“Hi,” you say, finally making your way over to the bartender. It’s the team’s captain, Hanbin. “Just give me whatever tastes the best.”

“One rum punch it is,” he smiles, his whisker dimples making your heart flutter. Why was everybody on the team good looking? “Y/N, right?”

“Yep,” you say, taking the plastic cup from him. “You’re Hanbin. You know, I’ve been meaning to interview you, but you always seem so busy with other things at games.”

“Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be nearly as cute as when you interview Gyuvin,” he laughs, eyeing the line of guests waiting for their drinks. “I’ve got a job to do, but I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks for the drink,” you say, holding it up in a sort of cheer before walking away. You take a sip and savor its sweetness, the liquor’s flavor blending in perfectly to the juice. Hanbin’s words stick with you. Were you and Gyuvin cute together?

Sure, he’s so tall that he practically towers over you, but he refuses to ever make eye contact and always keeps his replies so short and polite. Then again, he sure seems to write a lot in the notes that he doesn’t know are going to you.

For a second, you start to consider that you might actually have a chance with him, until you spot him with a beautiful girl touching his arm and whispering something in his ear. Before you can mope for too long, someone is tapping you on the shoulder.

“There you are,” a familiar voice calls over the music. You turn to see Ricky grinning at you, his hair looking almost white under the lights. “You look good.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest to prevent him from checking you out any further. He glances past you at his roommate.

“Don’t worry about her,” he assures you. You don’t know whether or not to believe him. “Gyuvin has never taken a girl home from these parties, let alone kissed one.”

That’s a relief. “Don’t you have a hook-up to hunt down?” you ask Ricky. He cocks an eyebrow at you, sipping his drink.

“Oh, Y/N. I keep my girls on speed dial,” he chuckles. You cringe at his playboy persona and for once in his life, Ricky is embarrassed. He shuts his mouth, hoping you can’t see him blush.

“Wow,” you say, tilting your head at him. “Don’t tell me young and rich, tall and handsome Shen Ricky can actually feel shame. I really wish I had a cameraman with me right now.”

“Like I said, it works on most people,” he attempts to reason. “You’re just immune to my charms, I guess.”

“Guess so,” you smirk, downing the rest of your drink. You glance behind your shoulder to see Gyuvin still talking to that girl, then back at Ricky, who’s deep in thought.

“Do you want to meet the rest of the team?” he asks, surprising you. You give a slight nod, and that’s all he needs to see before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd.

At first, Ricky lingers as you make small talk with Matthew, Taerae, and Gunwook, and explains to you that Yujin is actually at home because he’s still in high school. You feel like a horrible journalist—have you been so preoccupied with Gyuvin that you didn’t notice there was a literal child on the team?

By now, Ricky’s abandoned you to go find something, or someone, more entertaining. He’s dropped you off with Jiwoong, the oldest player, who is as aloof as he is annoyingly handsome. The way he eyes you makes your stomach do cartwheels, and you’ve had enough to drink that you can’t see the harm in flirting with a cute boy.

He’s spewing some bullshit about meditating when you cut him off. “I like your hair,” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He turns and smiles at you for the first time since you started talking.

“You do?” he asks, running a hand through it. “I think it’s a little long. I might get a haircut soon.”

“Keep it like that,” you say, not taking your eyes off of him. “It looks good.”

Jiwoong is grinning now, but he remembers that you’re Gyuvin’s crush, and it would be totally wrong to kiss you no matter how badly he wants to. He eyes the crowd, searching for someone to save him from the tension. 

“Hao!” he says, grabbing a boy passing by and pulling him into the conversation. He looks familiar, but he’s certainly no basketball player. “Y/N, this is Zhang Hao. He’s our equipment manager. I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Hao says, clearly caught off guard. “You’re the one who does the interviews, right?”

“That’s me,” you confirm. Jiwoong’s departure right when you thought he was going to kiss you was beyond bizarre. “I didn’t realize how many people knew me.”

“You’re basically a celebrity to the team,” Hao laughs. “They all think you’re pretty.”

“Makes sense,” you smile, sipping on your third drink of the night. “I am, in fact, very pretty.”

“Agreed. So, which one do you have your eye on?” he asks, leaning in to hear you better. “Or should I guess?”

“Go ahead and guess,” you say, eager to know what he thinks.

Hao takes a second to gather his thoughts. “Well, it’s clear that you’re into Gyuvin based on the way you giggle at his seriously unfunny jokes, but you were also just eye fucking Jiwoong. Then again, wasn’t Ricky dragging you around earlier by the hand?”

“By the wrist,” you correct him. “And yes, I do like Gyuvin. But he’s been talking to some other girl the whole night.”

“He only has eyes for you,” Hao says immediately. This is the second time you’ve heard this tonight, but the first where it’s coming from a trustworthy source.

“And you?” you ask in return, shifting the conversation onto him. “Which one do you have a crush on?”

Hao’s eyes widen. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not—I don’t—”

“Hao,” you cut him off. “You’ve glanced at Hanbin at least six times since this conversation started.”

He swallows, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“We talk all the time,” Hao mutters, looking down at his shoes. “I’m basically his personal assistant.”

“Do you talk about anything other than basketball?”

“No.”

“Do you even like basketball?”

“...No.”

“Hao,” you say, gripping him by the shoulders and turning him towards the drink station. “Go over there and get your man.”

—————-

As if it weren’t enough of a shock to Gyuvin that you actually showed up to a ZBO party, he’s had to spend all night watching you chat up the entire team except for him. 

They’ve no doubt let it slip to you that he has the biggest crush on you on campus, maybe even the entire world. But he’s way too nice to tell one of his classmates, who attends every game just to hold up a sign with his name on it, that he isn’t interested. 

That’s how he ended up nursing his drink with a tight lipped smile, listening to what’s-her-name ramble on about things that would be more interesting to probably anybody else, all while keeping an eye on you as you bounce around the party.

Your interaction with Jiwoong made him jealous beyond belief, and he makes a mental note that while he’s made his crush on you very clear to his teammates, you’re technically not his and free to flirt with whoever you want.

He watches as you grasp Hao and shake him, muttering some words of encouragement before sending him over to the bar. Finally, you’re alone again. It’s now or never.

“I have to go walk my dog,” Gyuvin lies, not even bothering to let the poor girl react before making his way over to you. You’re wearing pink, his secret admirer’s favorite color. Surely, it’s not just a coincidence. 

“Y/N,” he says a little too loud, startling you. You jump, accidentally knocking yourself into him. Both of your drinks go flying and suddenly, you’re covered in sticky red liquid. 

At this point, Gyuvin might as well just die alone. How did he manage to only spill his drink on you and not himself? He peers down at you, guilt written all over his face, as you take in what’s just happened.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his hoodie’s pocket and pulling out wadded tissues. “They’re clean, I promise. I have, uh, I’ve got allergies, so I carry around a ton.” 

He unfolds one and gently pats the liquid off of you without so much of a second thought. Your silence makes him panic even more, and he’s so focused on drying you off that he doesn’t even notice he’s basically rubbing the tissue on your cleavage.

Gyuvin freezes once he finally notices where his hand is, immediately pulling away and putting a good distance between the two of you. “I am so sorry. Holy shit, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a pervert! Please don’t think I’m a pervert.”

“Gyuvin,” you finally say, your voice just as sweet as always. He’s pacing as much as he can with everybody packed in so tightly, his long legs taking tiny steps. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re a pervert.”

He stops and looks down at you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” you reassure him. “Although I might think you’re a klutz. Who knew Wakefield’s star basketball player was so clumsy off the court?”

“Technically, you bumped into me,” he asserts, his smile returning. “But you’re also the one who got soaked, so let’s just call things even.”

“Deal,” you agree. Sure, it’s fun when boys are obviously flirting with you, but the way Gyuvin has no clue what he’s doing is just so charming. It feels natural when you’re with him, a nice departure from the overused pickup lines and generic compliments that are usually thrown your way.

Gyuvin takes in your stained dress, the red punch seeping into the pink fabric like blood. You look straight out of a horror movie. 

“Here,” he says, shrugging off his varsity jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before taking in the sight of you. “Wow. You look so…”

“Silly?” you answer, the expanse of material wrapped around you like a tent. 

“Cute. You look so cute.” Gyuvin meets your eyes for a split second before looking away again, his ears now feeling even hotter than when he saw you with Jiwoong. “I can get you a new shirt, if you want. My room isn’t far from here.”

“You want me to go with you to your room?” you giggle, enjoying how flustered you make him. Hearing his teammates talk about how much he likes you has taken a weight off your shoulders, and you don’t know how you ever thought he wasn’t into you before.

“No! Well, yes, but only if you want to. And I’m not using this as an excuse to bring you back to my room. I just know you like pink and I have this one pink shirt that shrunk in the wash and I think you’d look really good in it. Plus, I can start a load of laundry and get your dress all clean.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard him talk, his voice a few pitches higher than usual when he’s rambling. Plus, if he knows how much you like pink, he must be following your clues. “Let’s go to your room, then.” 

—————-

While Gyuvin’s side of the room is much neater than you expected, Ricky’s side looks weirdly perfect. Not a single thing is out of place, with every item labeled or color coordinated. You’re shocked that two basketball players can manage to keep such a small room so tidy.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Gyuvin apologizes, moving to make his bed. “You can sit here.” 

“If this is what you think is messy, you don’t want to see my room,” you say, taking in all of the decorations. Usually, when you’re in a guy’s room, it’s all navy blue and manly movie posters, but Gyuvin’s walls are so colorful and covered in photos of his family and friends. 

One piece of paper catches your eye—the very first article you wrote about the basketball team. You scan his wall, catching more and more newspaper clippings, all penned by you. Gyuvin’s too busy putting things away and rustling through his drawers to notice you staring at them in awe.

“Here we go,” he calls out, turning and holding up a shrunken pink t-shirt and a pair of sweats. His grin fades as soon as he catches you reading one of your own articles, which have been on his wall for so long that he’s forgotten they’re even there. “Oh. Uh, please don’t think I’m a creep.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s sweet. They’re all about you, anyway,” you say, turning to take the shirt from him. It has a picture of a silly looking greyhound on the front of it.

“Right,” Gyuvin says, shrugging off the interaction. He pulls himself onto the bed next to you, sitting cross legged and making sure to leave a gap between you and him. “That’s my dog, Eumppappa.” 

“Eumppappa is an amazing name,” you muse, turning to smile at him. Your faces end up being so close that Gyuvin thinks his heart has stopped beating. In his attempt to scoot back, he ends up tumbling off of his bed.

“Fuck,” he says as he lands on the ground. You peer down from the lofted bed at his long limbs sprawled across the rug. If you didn’t think he was a complete loser before, you probably do now.

“Are you okay?” you call out, watching as he sits up and rubs his head.

“I’m good,” Gyuvin assures you, taking a breather before getting to his feet and heading towards the door. “I’m going to step out and let you change. Let me know when you’re decent.”

“Will do,” you smile, giving him a thumbs up. You strip your clothes off, throwing on the t-shirt and sweats and pulling the drawstring until you know they won’t fall off of you. “You can come back in, Gyuvin!”

He stumbles in, practically waiting with his body pressed against the door for the moment he could see you again. God, could you really not tell how much he liked you before tonight?

Gyuvin eyes you drowning in his clothes and he knows that he’d move earth and heaven if it meant that you’re who he got to wake up to for the rest of his life. 

“I’ll go throw this in the washer and then we can head back to the party,” he stammers, snapping out of his daydream and grabbing your dress. Your smile is so pretty right now, even after all of his awkwardness, that it takes everything in him not to get hard just looking at you.

By the time he gets back from the laundry room, you’ve decided you don’t want to go back to the party, especially not dressed like this.

“Oh,” Gyuvin says, disappointed that his time with you has been cut short by his clumsiness. “Do you want me to walk you back to your place?”

“I live down the hall,” you remind him. You hope he doesn’t realize you could’ve just as easily grabbed your own change of clothes.

“Right,” he grimaces. He knows that. He’s always trying to time leaving his room perfectly so that he runs into you on the way to class.

Just like whenever you interview Gyuvin, there’s an awkward silence, except this time it can’t be edited out. He’s back to looking everywhere in the room except at you.

“It’s not even midnight,” you say, glancing at your phone’s lockscreen. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Like, together?” Gyuvin asks in disbelief. You nod, an amused smirk on your face. “Duh, of course you meant together. Yeah, sure, let’s watch a movie.”

Moments later, you’re sitting in the dark with Gyuvin, your legs pulled close to your chest as you watch Amélie projected onto the wall above Ricky’s bed. 

Every once in a while, Gyuvin lets himself relax, his arm or his leg brushing against you by accident. After spending half of the film pulling away out of fear that he’s bothering you, he finally settles for having his fingers barely touching yours. 

“You know,” he starts, his eyes still locked on the movie. “I kind of have my own mystery going on right now.”

“Really?” you say, feigning shock. “About what?”

“Someone keeps leaving me notes when I sleep in the lounge. Sometimes treats, but mostly notes. They don’t sign their name, but today they left me some little doodles as clues and I’ve been trying to figure them out.”

The way you’re reacting makes his stomach turn. How could it be you when you have a look on your face that says you have no clue what he’s talking about?

“Well, I’ve been meaning to work on my investigative journalism. What if I helped you track your secret admirer down?”

If you aren’t going to fall for him, he’ll at least settle for being friends. “That’d be awesome, Y/N.” 

Suddenly, Ricky comes crashing into the dorm room, his lips attached to some girl’s face. He pulls away from her for a second, barely registering that you’re even there, before pulling out his wallet and throwing a couple hundred dollar bills at Gyuvin. “Get out. Now.”

Before you can protest, Ricky’s already unbuttoning his shirt, and you’ll gladly evacuate if it means you don’t have to watch whatever freaky shit is about to go down.

“I didn’t know he pays you to sleep in the lounge,” you laugh, your arms full of Gyuvin’s comforter as you walk down the hall. “With that kind of money, he could just buy an apartment.”

“He could,” Gyuvin starts, holding his pillow in one hand and the stack of notes—your notes—in the other. “But then he wouldn’t get the true college experience. Plus, he only throws money at me when it’s a last minute thing.”

“How much was that, anyway? Like $300?” you ask. He stops and takes out his wallet.

“$400. Pretty standard,” he shrugs, counting the bills. Your eyes widen at the total.

“Are you going to share?” you pout. “I got kicked out too.”

“You can have it,” he says, handing you the money, his brain short circuiting at the way you bat your eyelashes at him. You marvel at the crisp bills. “This is just another Friday night for me.”

“Okay, young and rich, tall and handsome Kim Gyuvin. Thanks for buying my dinner for the rest of the semester!” You don’t know this, but if you asked him to, Gyuvin would buy you whatever you wanted.

Before you can get down to helping him figure out the doodles, or throwing him off your trail, the two of you are fast asleep. Instead of the lounge’s couch, Gyuvin curls up on the oversized bean bag on your bedroom floor. It’s much too small for his frame to actually be comfortable, but he somehow feels more content just being around you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @theresawtf @nerezza123 @gyvnexe @xiurmy-everything @wollycobbl3-blr @cloudgyubi @yunnie-11 @wheatrice

[hypnoneghoul]

Hyp! You said, so you shall receive! Ofcourse only if you want to do something with it but this lil shit has been rattling around my racoon brain for a bit. So, for you 🤲

Rain has the most delicate wrist’s. They’re not even the smallest in the pack, Aurora for example has teeny tiny, fingers overlap, kinda wrist’s.

No Rain’s are a contradiction of themselves, delicate and soft looking like precious porcelain but there’s strength in there too, there has to be because the bass is heavy.

His Ulna is very prominent and after he’s been playing for a few hours there’s a vein that curves around it, cradling the bone.

It’s also a terribly erogenous spot for him, Dew would know. He’s spent a hours staring, stroking his fingers over the delicate joints, imagining how he’d make Rain into a weepy little mess begging Dew to just do something, stop teasing.

Rains wrists drive Dew absolutely feral and Rain knows it.

Or something like that, idk. 🤷🏻‍♂️

this made my brain go empty for weeks but here i am and i bring food. loosely inspired by @miasmaghoul's fic on dewther watching the ghovie, hope u don't mind

does not contain any rhrn spoilers!!!

“Should’ve made you take the jacket off sooner,” Dewdrop whispers right into his ear with another slow stroke over delicate skin.

It’s stretched so thin over the bones of Rain’s wrist, keeping all the tendons and veins not hidden, but veiled nonetheless.

The water ghoul grits his teeth and digs his claws further into his own thigh. Well, not claws, considering he’s got them glamored—they’re surrounded by tens of unsuspecting humans, after all—but his blunt, perfectly trimmed nails. The same ones that are still flashing on the big screen right before them from time to time.

“I’d get to see those pretty wrists even more.”

Rain can do nothing but keep his head straight and his eyes glued to the screen. He should’ve known. He should’ve known his little mate would go absolutely feral seeing not just him in general in the cinema, but the close-ups of his hands. His wrists.

Why the delicate bones wrapped in fair skin were Dewdrop’s undoing, nobody’s ever learned, even though nobody could deny that every single part of Rain’s body is absolutely perfect. He carries the precisely carved out and yet so natural beauty of renaissance statues. For some reason, the fire ghoul’s favorite part of him is one of the unassuming ones and because of this his mate’s own body was conditioned to betray him every single time a reverent fingertip would be placed over that spot.

“Dew, you can’t–” Rain mutters when the music is loud enough to cover up his cracking voice. There’s nothing more he wants right now than for Dewdrop to go on and work him up and up until he tips over the edge, but they can't, they're in public. And the water ghoul knows he won’t be able to control himself if his mate carries on his teasing.

“Sure I can,” Dewdrop turns to smile at him and if Rain didn’t know better he’d call it genuine, sweet, innocent. The fire ghoul is all but that.

Dewdrop lets his glamor slip the tiniest bit, just enough for one of his nails to return to its natural state. He scrapes it over the middle one of Rain’s flexors, pressing it down just enough to leave a straight red line following the tendon. His skin is so delicate, it takes barely anything to leave a mark.

The thought makes the fire ghoul let out a growl.

Rain whines pathetically like a kicked puppy and throws his head back against the top of the cushioned cinema seat. Another clip focused solely on his own fretting hand flashes on the screen and the water ghoul wants to scream.

Instead he throws his free hand over his crotch, pressing down onto the steadily growing bulge to take some of the edge off. It doesn’t escape Dewdrop’s attention—just as the smell of the fire ghoul’s cunt in arousal doesn’t escape Rain’s.

He leans into his ear once again.

“It’s actually a wonder you’ve never tried putting your whole hand into me,” Dewdrop whispers, moving his claw up Rain’s forearm as he shakes in his seat. “We should try that later. Wanna see your wrist buried inside me while my slick is dripping down this pretty veiny forearm all the way to your elbow.”

The next noise the water ghoul lets out makes the entire auditorium turn their heads.

[obitos-whore]

Obito with a pregnant s/o and seeing his child for the first time

────────────────────────────────────

TW: Very light mention of NSFW and throwing up

When you tell him of your pregnancy, he turns white as a sheet and stares at you like a deer in headlights

He needs to sit down for a moment and sort his thoughts. He always thought he was infertile after having half of his body replaced by Hashirama cells. Plus you two never did the deed without protection

You sit with him and rub his back soothingly while he mutters nonsensical stuff to himself

After the initial shock has worn down a bit, he stares at your flat stomach and tries to imagine a teeny tiny person growing inside there. A small human he helped create

With your permission, he uses his sharingan to get a better look at the tiny tiny being inside you and is immediately awestruck when he sees that the little surprise is merely the size of a blueberry

Obito is the kind of man who will display symptoms of sympathetic pregnancy and will probably throw up even more than you do, because he's sensitive like that. He cries a lot more too

Most of the time he doesn't really know what he's doing, but he tries his best to be somehow useful despite his own nausea and clumsiness

Will bend over backwards for you and do whatever he can to tend to your needs. You're craving a bowl of ramen or dango in the middle of the night? Bet you he will get up and almost burn down the kitchen make it for you

Never judges your food cravings and supplies you with everything you want without asking questions. The snack cabinets are filled to the brim so you can eat to your heart's content

Will stare at your growing belly with awe and admire your breathtaking beauty that seems to grow with every passing day

Gets very clingy and snuggly and can't keep his hands or lips off your bump and makes it his life's mission to talk to the baby every chance he gets

Will take time off so he can be with you, especially in the last few weeks of the pregnancy

Should you ever feel miserable, either mentally or physically, Obito will be right there to lift your spirits and make you comfortable. He will shower you with compliments, soothe your aching back and massage your feet. He'd even help you shave hard to reach places without hesitation

Seeing you so stuffed with his baby does something to him and so it's not surprising that he gets horny quite a lot, though he's hesitant to voice his needs because he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you or the baby

However, when you two get intimate, he'll be slow and very gentle. He's already more of a gentle lover, but now that you are pregnant, he reaches a completely new level of tenderness and pays extra attention to your other sweet spots to ensure you receive the ultimate pleasure

When he gets to see and hold his child for the first time, Obito bawls his eyes out and hugs you tightly, thanking you over and over again for giving birth to his baby while also apologising for all the struggles and pain you had to endure

[allmyocsarebritish]

Taking flight

Pairing: Adam X Reader

Warnings(?): Adam being Adam, teeny tiny mention of blood but it's barely there

For @rock-babe

Word count: 1.3k

~

Waking up for the first time after your death surrounded by paths of pure gold was entirely surreal, overwhelming you with joy at the prospect of eternity inside the pearly gates. You had made it. A winner, in Heaven.

The set of pure white wings that had sprouted from your back, resembling that of a dove's, took a while to grow accustomed to. Even after a whole month spent above Earth, you still couldn't actually fly. All other angels made it seem so elegant and effortless, yet somehow it never worked like that for you. Emily was quick to assure you that all you needed was time and practice, but that didn't stop your frustration at not being able to soar freely like the other residents of Heaven.

This meant that you dedicated at least a few hours a day to flight practice. This was always in relative privacy, of course, as, although you were somewhat getting the hang of things, progress was slow. Currently, you were attempting take off in a quiet alleyway, the occasional winner passing by yet paying you no mind. You were grateful for this.

Taking a deep breath, you stretched out your angelic wings once more, beginning to flap in order to get a feel for the wind between your feathers. Gaining momentum, your feet began to hover as you supported your whole weight on them. Swift movements increased in both speed and size as you began to rise. It was working!

Unfortunately, the moment of triumph was short lived, as you promptly lost your balance, landing in a disgruntled heap on the golden, shiny floor.

"Wow, you're really shit at this." Came a voice from behind. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at being caught. Turning, curious as to who had been watching you, you were met with a tall angel sat up on a small wall, clothed in a predominantly white robe. His face was covered by a deep black mask with two long horns, giving an overall intimidating appearance and a demonic silhouette. How strange.

Your eyes narrowed. "That's a bit rude, isn't it?"

The stranger scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No, it's true."

"Who even are you, anyway?" You asked, a question which seemed to strike a nerve within the angel. He immediately bristled, before the defensiveness quickly turned to arrogance.

"The name's Adam. Like, you know, the first man." He spoke with an air of superiority, which you now somewhat understood, given his abundant fame. "You new here or something?"

"Can't you tell?" You sniped back, though he failed to notice the irritance in your tone.

"Well, yeah. Clearly you must be if you don't know me, babe. Plus the whole.. flying thing." He gestured towards the tiny dotted beads of golden blood on your forehead springing from a small cut you must have received in the tumble. "You might need a bit of practice."

"Wow, thanks, I didn't notice." You rolled your eyes, wiping the small amount of blood on your sleeve. "Fuck does it look like I'm doing?"

"Alright, alright, keep your wings on!" Adam laughed at you as you folded your arms.

How long did it take you to learn then, smartass?" You asked.

"Uh, it didn't. I could do it straight away." Yeah, you walked right into that one. "It's easy, really. Look, I'll even show you."

Kicking off the wall, the angel gracefully flapped, wings stretched. The bright lights of Heaven accentuated the gold undertones in his feathers. You hated to acknowledge how impressive it was as he soared back down to stand before you.

"Literally just do it like that. It's not hard."

"Sure it isn't." You mumbled, growing even more frustrated.

"Listen, if you want I suppose I can help you. Because, you know, you might need it." It was rather difficult, but you managed to resist the urge to bite back.

"And how would you do that?"

"Come here." He beckoned you over, to which you took a step forwards, visibly confused.

"Closer." You took another step. Apparently it wasn't close enough however, as he stared at you before quite literally grabbing you and pulling you into him. Flustered at the sudden advance, your face heatened (top tier English there Jess wow).

"Now I'll support you, all you need to worry about is concentrating on flapping and getting a feel for proper balance."

Concentrating was easier said than done.

"You ready?" Adam asked, not waiting for an answer before taking off. It took a minute to comprehend what was happening: you had never gone so high so fast before. But once the realisation of the situation kicked in, you immediately began to violently beat your wings, causing him to laugh at you.

"Chill, seriously."

"Sorry." You slowed down slightly, relaxing into Adam's hold as you began to balance mid-air. The lack of stress and tension actually helped significantly, and you found yourself sinking into a rhythm. Though you'd never inflate his ego, Adam was right about this.

Distracted by your newfound ability, you didn't notice that, once he was confident you were capable, Adam began to gradually lessen his grip before letting go of you completely. In fact, you only realised you were flying solo when Adam soared ahead of you, both hands visibly empty.

"Seeeeee? Told you it was easy!" He smirked, though you were too overjoyed to care about his boasting. "Do you want me to help you turn back? It's a little harder than a straight line."

You weren't completely sure if that was true, nor were you sure why you agreed so enthusiastically, but before you knew it he was holding you again, 'strangely' enough waiting a little longer before letting go this time.

All in all, your impromptu flying lesson was over far too soon. As much as you desperately wanted to believe the joy you felt was solely due to your newfound capability, you knew it wasn't really, a fact that frustrated you and made you smile fondly simultaneously.

"Ready to land?" He asked, once again not letting you actually answer before chiming in with a response to 'you'. "Great, wait there one second." Adam's landing was just as graceful as his take off, and once his feet hit the floor, he was immediately beckoning you to join him on the ground. Desperately trying to move as smoothly as him, you slowly flapped, fully keeping your balance. Until you didn't. Desperately failing, you braced for the impact of plummeting to the ground, closing your eyes. Expecting severe pain, you were pleasantly surprised when, instead of hard pavement, you were caught by a familiar pair of strong arms.

"Gotcha. Really gotta work on that landing, babe. Don't wanna crash and ruin that face of yours."

"Oh yeah? Is that what you did? Is that why you're wearing a mask.?" You teased, to which he scoffed. Adam let you down, grabbing his strange disguise.

"Yeah right, you wish." He pulled it off, revealing his face. You weren't going to inflate his ego. You weren't going to inflate his ego. You weren't going to-

"See something you like?" He smirked, and your cheeks flushed upon the realisation you were staring as you quickly looked down.

"No."

"Mhm. Of course not." Adam drew closer to you, and you didn't back away. His hand came to rest on your face, lifting your head up and returning your gaze to him. He leaned in further, and your heartrate started to quicken. This was wrong. Well, was it? Maybe. Probably not. It was fine. You closed the distance, confidence growing as his free hand came to rest on your back. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, subconsciously pulling him closer.

"Same time tomorrow?" He whispered against your lips.

"Yeah. Same time."

[certifiedhitmaker]

Pro Football player Shidou x Spoiled Reader! He's kindaa mean, just a lil bit, like a teeny bit.

He treats you so well, shopping sprees, gets your hair and nails done whenever you ask him, always takes you out on dates. He always gives you his card to go shopping on your own though because he'll be damned if you have him walking around with 1000 bags in his hands. He'll always suggest you get pink acrylics and pink toes, maybe white if he feels like switching it up.

But the one time he tells you no, you get all pissy with him and start acting like a brat, which he definitely aint gon tolerate.

"But whyyyyyyy!?" You whine, following him around the house. "Since when did you start telling me no?" "Since now." He grunts out, paying your whines and attitude no mind. He had been spoiling you a little too much lately and you had been running with it. Every single day of the week you wanted to go out and buy something or go somewhere, it was draining, because you always dragged him with you, that poor man needed a break. "If you don't love me then just say that." You continue to whine and follow him around. Normally, he would've just given in and let you go do whatever it is you wanna do just to shut you up and get you out his ear but not this time. You were gonna feel it this time. All he does is sigh through his nose in response to you, heading to the bedroom and laying on top of the covers on his back.

"Wowwwww so you really don't love me?" You question him offendedly. "Shut up." He grumbles, clearly getting fed up with you. "Shut up? Who the fuck are you talking to Ryusei?" "Talking to you." "You must wanna get fucked up." All he does is scoff in response. So, in retaliation, you snatch the pillow out from under his head and hit him in the face with it. "Get up, I'm talking to you." and he does, sneering down at you, his pink eyes fixed on yours, you just pissed him clean off.

Before you could even think to apologize, he had you bent over on the bed, pushing your head into the mattress. "Arch your back." All you can do is comply and whimper at him. "You wanna act like a fuckin brat, I'll fuck you like one then." He pulls your panties down from under your dress, grabbing your hips and pressing himself against you. "I don't know why you thought you were going out in this skimpy ass dress anyway, don't wear this again." He says, sliding it up your hips and bunching it up at your waist. "It's not skimpy." You retort. "Did I ask you to speak?" You didn't respond to him, knowing better than to test him right now. He pulls his dick out, slowly stroking himself, getting himself fully hard. "Already fucking wet." He grunts, pressing the tip against your entrance. "Ryu I'm sorry." You whine. "Shut up."

He pushes himself inside, making you whimper at the stretch. He immediately starts thrusting into you at an animalistic pace, each thrust jerking you forward and causing your ass to slap against his pelvis. It was too much. "R-Ryu, slower baby!" he ignored your plea, continuing to thrust at that same pace. He didn't care if you could take it or not, he wasn't focused on you right now. He cared about getting his own orgasm. He paid you no mind, grunting and letting out breathy moans at the feeling of being inside you. "Ryu! Please! It's too much! I can't!" You continue whining. He grunts in response, slowing down his pace.

"Oh, it's too much for you?" he says, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you up so you're flush against him. He continues his animalistic pace, causing your back to arch away from him. He slides his hand to your throat, the other still placed on your hip as he thrusts up into you. Choked moans and sobs escaping your lips consecutively as fresh hot tears fall down your face. The wet squelching sounds getting louder and louder as he fucks you dumb. little breathy "ah" sounds falling from your lips in time with the sound of your skin slapping against his. "Fuck." He pants out, his dick twitching and his hips stuttering, he's close. His thrusts get sloppy, but never lose their strength, continuing to move your whole body as he fucks into you. He lets out one last groan, holding you in place as he cums inside you. After stilling both your movements for what seems like an eternity, he pulls out, letting your shaking body fall on the bed. "Clean me up."

[dangermousie]

I love this! This girl has built him an oddball, custom army and won't back down. He may be a genius with a spine of titanium but the reason he can continue to fight with joy and safety in his life (and that does help him win) is because of her.

This did crack me up. Any relationship with hope in it should have laughter.

I really really love how slow and gradual their getting back together and closer in general is - they have a safe time and space for it and so they are healing.

I went insane for this tiny teeny touch...

And the bit where she shows up to rescue him in the police station and the way they look at each other, he in full certainty she'd save him and her in full certainty that he's innocent.

"Your family is here for you" says the cop, and he's not wrong.

(Side note - logic hole in this scene tho. If Li Xun and prison buddy won't face criminal penalties for hacking if there is no damage, why does the lawyer threaten ZY with penalties when she supposedly hacked to show stuff and did no damage? (Only for ZY to go psych! like the boss queen she is, of course.) Eh, whatever, I don't even care tbh!)

[taissaswifelowkey]

Bittersweet Symphony

a/n: the second chapter IS HEREEE this one's been sitting in my drafts since summer vacation. this is relatively slow, i want to try to set the pace and offer a different twist to the actual plot. proofread, not sure where we're going with the release of chapters but we're going!

also "finn" can be any gender you want ;) fionna, finn, or finnegan it's your call 🗣️‼️‼️

w/c: 2.2 k words

warnings: swearing, mentions distress. let me know if i missed anything

it starts below the cut

a/n: thank you for wistfulwatcher for making this gif, they're so adorable

Chapter II: The Reflex

Four days in your three-long week break and you’re on your twentieth episode of Dance Moms. You went out for a jog in the forest to clear your head, fed the neighbourhood stray cats, read a book you bought but never bothered opening and settled for staged reality TV. Anytime you felt like defying Chief Munoz’s orders, you take a long minute to think, rather than just march up to the man’s office in your uniform.

It’s a fate better than…nothing. You still get your checks. And maybe he is right, some time might be good. 

The more you try to convince yourself of that idea, the more it seems to work.

Settling into the couch, letting your eyes drift shut you allow your body to catch up on the sleep you have been lacking, the sounds fading away at the back of your mind.

⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰

“Are you even sure she lives here? This place doesn’t seem like her. It’s too…homey.”

“I have to admit she was a teeny bit harder to find. But this looks like the right place. Besides, the blinds are open and we checked every other corner.”

“...A suburban home with a huge “Welcome Home” mat? I say we’re better off going back to the cabin again. Get some information out of that ranger guy.”

“That’s a great idea but I still think we can fish for information. We know this is the right neighbourhood so whoever lives here might know her, right?”

A buzzing noise keeps resonating in your head putting a brutally quick stop to your rest. Jolting up, clutching your chest and trying to calm your beating heart, you slowly inhale and exhale. It’s a doorbell. Just a doorbell.

Whoever keeps ringing is pretty damn insistent. Is it that Jessica Roberts person? How the hell does she know where you live? Clenching your jaw, You rise from your seat, not even taking the time to fix your appearance. Following you at the grocery store, a damn Trader Joe’s is one thing. But your home? This is stepping into the border of harassment.

Swinging the door almost violently, the words escape your lips.

“Ms Roberts. I couldn’t care less about your job but I have a right to privacy. Either you leave me alone or I swear I’m going to-”

“Good afternoon to you too. Long time no see.”

“Hey, it’s been a while! I brought you some cookies to catch up.”

What the…how…

Your eyes land on a woman with her hands in her pocket, her eyebrows peeking out of her shades and with a subtle smirk on her face. While the other smiles brightly.

“Huh…”

What are they doing here?

“Are you going to let us in, Ranger?”

Natalie asks in what seems to be her trying to be patient, but she lets her way in with Misty. This is all happening very fast. Wait how does she know that-

“Where did you get that from?”

You step aside and let them enter, leading them to the kitchen, thinking of what to say. What do you tell people you haven’t seen in years? Or rather avoided for years. 

“Misty kept track of all of us. You can thank her for that.”

Natalie takes off her glasses, sighing as she sits down. Misty shoots her a look and she shrugs her shoulders.

“What Nat kindly means is, now that we found you, we have a problem we need to discuss.”

She hands over the plate of cookies. Swallowing hard and nodding, you thank her then look for plates. 

You’re starting to regret not enjoying your given break sooner.

“What kind?”

“A reporter problem.”

Nat answers, with an edge of annoyance to her tone. Looks like you're not the only one who has been dealing with…wait. Why are they looking at you like that? They don’t think I said anything, do they?

You serve them plates and sit down opposite the two, looking between them. One looks sceptical while the other…looks afraid of being disappointed.

“A Jessica Roberts problem? That reporter? I swear I didn’t tell her anything. I even thought it was her ringing on my door, I was about to gently remind her to leave me alone.”

A small exhale leaves Misty’s lips, almost of relief while Natalie furrows her brows. 

“I can ask you two the same thing. Did you?”

“God, no. She tried to give me some book deal, telling me how I would make a lot of money out of it. But I wasn’t buying anything that she tried selling me.”

“She tried to bribe an answer out of you?”

They nod, all of a sudden looking uneasy. Natalie dwindles her thumbs and Misty leans forward and drops her voice to a whisper, even though you’re the only three people in the house.

“We think someone talked. Or someone is, I don’t know, spying on us. We tried to look for the other girls but so far, you were the first one on our list. We needed to stop by.”

Her eyes search your face. Visibly stricken. You don’t know if it’s because of the shock of revealing the news. You lean back into your chair as Natalie grabs a cookie and scrambles it down.

“Of course, that was before she did something to screw up my car. Next thing you know she’ll break yours, might as well keep it hidden.”

“Natalie, aren’t you just funny today?”

“Very. Now, tell me Ranger. Any loose lips recently? You must have talked in your sleep about it to whoever was with you. Misty found someone by the name of…Finn. It couldn’t have just been a lovers’ quarrel right?”

Just how much information do these two know? Finn is not even considered as an “ex”. Merely just a failed relationship.

Misty brings her fingers together, the clogs visibly turning in her brain. Whatever words she is communicating through the daggers she shoots at Natalie must work, because she turns around to look at you.

“Look, this situation is weird. It concerns us. If we don’t put a stop to it then she will keep on fucking with our lives. Literally and metaphorically.”

You cross your arms and weigh her words. It’s not like you can exactly blame her, or even them, either for having certain doubts. 

“I swear I didn’t tell her anything, and I never plan on telling her what went on in these woods. I mean, she knows what I do for a living. Probably even knows where I live. I want to find out the truth as much as you.”

Natalie gives you this look. This long, look. Trying to look for the slightest ticks or anything in your face that makes her think you’re lying. Misty doesn’t say anything, her eyes finding the wooden table interesting. So much for someone who tried to defend you just a few seconds ago.

“Fine…but if I find out there is something, then-”

“Do what you must, Natalie.”

Your voice is firmly affirmative as you hold her steely gaze. After a couple of seconds, she finally lets down, raising her hands in surrender. Misty clears her throat, lifting her voice.

“Okay, now that it’s over can we finally work again? As in, a team? You’re a Ranger, right? That will bring us a lot of help. With your sense of responsibility and leadership.”

Misty is adorable but calling you a “team” is an exaggeration. Even though the sight of Natalie’s eyes rolling at the term makes you stifle a chuckle.

“Technically I am. My boss thinks I’m going through something, I don’t know. He put me on a three-week leave.”

She smiles brightly, extending her hand at your crossed arms. You glance down at it and lightly shake hers. Natalie just clears her throat and takes another cookie before approving.

“This reunion was sweet and all but we have to go. I’ll let Misty leave our contact info. Misty, I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Nat gives a tight-lipped smile before leaving you and Misty in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about Nat, she’s just…I mean, it’s…”

She tries to find a way to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t sound outrightly hurtful. To be fair trust issues are bound to arise so…

Shaking your head you smile warmly at her. You stand up to grab a sticky note and a pen, handing it back to Misty.

“Yeah.”

You whisper, barely even audibly, your mind still racing. She pulls back, fixing her glasses in a way only Misty Quigley ever could. After she scribbles down two sets of numbers she gives it back to you. 

“Those numbers aren’t only for investigation purposes, it’s also a support group.”

“Investigation purposes” Like how she basically stalked y…wait. If she knows about you…then she must also know about the others. 

“Hey…I just have a question. If you found out about me…do you…do you know about the rest, or were they good at covering up their tracks? I’m just curious. Y’know. Harmless curiosity.”

Her ears perked up and if it were anyone else but Misty, you don’t think you’d support this cheerfulness and optimism. 

“Of course. Besides, pretty much all information that is out there is public knowledge so I didn’t really “find” you. Who do you want to know about? Randy? Ooh, maybe that girl who took your jacket and never gave it back to you-”

“Ty. I mean, Taissa. I want to know about Taissa.”

That was too much of a quick interruption. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips are brought into a smile. Whatever remark she is about to make is quickly shut down, again.

“It’s just, y’know I heard she was running for Senator. That is major. Really major.”

“Well yes, that is part of it. She is also married and has a child. That is pretty much about it? I mean, it’s not like I can tell you what her favourite ice cream flavour or meal is.”

Pecan. Shrimp alfredo.

She smiles wholeheartedly and shrugs. Right. Married. You don’t exactly know what it is that you were hoping for, anyway. It’s not like you were ever really a first option either so…

The car outside honks, stopping the beginning of a spiral.

“Right. Well in any case thanks, Misty. Drive safely.”

“Don’t mention a single word about it. And do watch your back…we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with.”

A couple of hours after they left, you stared into nothingness. After twenty-five years you’d think everyone will have a smidge of normalcy in their lives. Stirring macaroni, your eyes shift from the pot to your computer. Activities to do when you’re bored and Jessica Roberts.

What still gets you is this nonchalance. 

She’s obsessive. It is her job but she is strangely, weirdly, bizarrely obsessive. Whatever reason does she have to know about your past life? Everything is out there for her to know already. Everyone knows or at least has some idea of what happened. 

Abandoning the stove to scroll through your computer, you look for anything that will give a clue. There is nothing much useful but her education, her accreditation…

“I’m on your case now you bottom feeding bi-”

A postcard flies right past the window, landing in the sink. What the…? You peer over it. At a glance, a simple, innocent postcard. Turning it around, all the colour leaves your body, ignoring the smell of the pot burning. Exactly what you were afraid of. 

“We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with” are now famous last words.

⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰

“There is no fucking way this is happening.”

You set the now-burnt macaroni aside, your brain circling back to the symbol on the back of the “I miss you!” postcard. 

“What if it’s- it’s laced or something and I’ll get sick in a couple of hours and- for all we know she can be some fucking deranged mentally ill serial killer who’s wanted by the FBI and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I promise nothing is laced, alright? Focus on the sound of my voice and slowly inhale then exhale with me. Ready?”

Misty softly speaks, guiding and helping you breathe regularly again. The ringing in your ears is slowly dissipating and your legs don’t feel like giving up on themselves anymore. 

“Good, good job. Just take your time.”

“Are you alright to continue the conversation?”

Natalie exasperates. Like you're a child who woke their parents up to tell them they’ve pissed the bed again. 

You take a final deep exhale, your voice slightly breaking. You grab a bottle of water from your fridge and take a few sips.

“Yeah, yeah I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t apologise. Anyone would have had the same reaction as you, Ranger. Never know what could happen these days. All kinds of freaks are running around and ow- Misty I’m trying to assist, here.”

“Thanks Natalie. That…helps. A bit.”

Weirdly, surprisingly, you’re comforted by her words. You would have expected anything but that given her lack of trust at the beginning. 

“So with Nat we’re thinking that it’s either Jessica’s own doing, or someone’s working with her.”

“Hmm…and if you had the same card as me then that means…”

“...There is a chance the others must have received it.”

They complete your sentence at the same time, still trying to make sense of this entire situation. Is Jessica Roberts a family member like you’ve doubted before? Or is she working with someone to try and fish information out of us to extort us or something Like Natalie said? That or she’s a con who is efficiently covering up her tracks. 

Your hands fiddle with the loose strings of your flannel, the only thing that brings you back to reality and refuses your brain the idea that it is a state-like dream. 

No one says anything for a couple of seconds, turning into minutes. The only sound that fills the silence is the soft hum of their car radio. Until Misty speaks up again, a strange lilt to her voice for this situation.

“I think it’s time we bring the team back together.”

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = I genuinely don't know what's up with me and wearing Gojo's clothes. But I took this several steps too far, probably. And I like ettt.

C/W = mild pouting, stroking of ego, strap-on/dildo, blowing dildo, ass fingering, rim job, anal sex (f -> m), cross dressing, teeny bit of masturbation, edging, big ass O.

under the cut 🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW under the cut

WC = +4k (not by much, though)

Fairest of them All

Finally making your way into Gojo's penthouse apartment carrying all of the bags in from shopping, you see him sitting at the breakfast bar. He's sitting kind of hunched over the black and gold marble countertop and nursing an amber-colored drink. He barely looks like himself; his eyes aren't quite as sparkly, and his chest isn't stuck out with the pride he usually harbors. And he's wearing his cheapest pair of sweatpants (the poly/cotton blend!).

"Heyyy, Baby. What ya doing?" You ask him, tentatively. You've only seen him like this one other time and to this day, he refuses to admit what happened. Though you did your best to convince him that it DOES happen to every man at some point, it was bound to happen to him sooner or later, it doesn't make him less of a man, you still love him fiercely and something so seemingly trivial shouldn't get to someone so beautiful and confident.

He told you to fuck off after you gave him the speech. But in the same breath, he said he was sorry, he loved you, too, and then he went down on you for an hour and a half to make himself feel better.

You rubbed your hands up and down his back, dipping your fingers into the places you know to be his most ticklish spots. But you got no response. He didn't even tell you to stop.

"Satoru? Are you ok? Oh, oh shit. Did the credit card company call again and say there was suspicious activity on it? I thought you talked to–"

He slid the now empty glass from one hand to the other. "No," he interrupted you, "s'not that. Not the credit card. Something else." He put his cheek on the cool surface of the counter.

"Oh, my Baby. C'mere. Tell me what's wrong." He accepted your arms around him and you peppered his face and neck with slow, but deep kisses.

And he sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Don't wanna talk 'bout it." He put his face in your cleavage and took a breath in. "You, you smell really good. Like, really fuckin' good." He sniffed around on you like he was trying to bust you for something he'd thought you'd done. "Is that, *sniff* orange and *sniff sniff*, orange and vanilla?"

You clapped for him like you were his biggest cheerleader. "Yes! Oh, Baby, you have the nose of a bloodhound!"

He pushed you away. "What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting I look like some dopey ass dog? Wow, y/n. You can be so mean sometimes!"

You stood there completely flabbergasted by his outburst. And you didn't know what needed to be addressed first: the fact that he couldn't take the compliment or that he thought you were calling him a dog.

"OH-K! What in the hell is going on with you right now? I left you in bed this morning, and you were fine. Now you're jumping all over my ass about every little thing, and I wanna know why, Gojo!"

"Nothing's going on with me," he muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest, his face turned down into a pout. "Nothing."

You tried not to let your exasperation show. "Baby, I've known you for 1 1/2 years now, and not once have you ever been like this. I've seen you upset before, I've seen you mad, I've seen you disappointed, but I've never seen you... Oh, my god. Did you start your period?" You couldn't hide the smirk that was creeping across your soft pink lips.

"THAT ... that is so mature, y/n. So mature. It's not funny at all. Fuck, why can't you take me seriously?"

Now, you couldn't hold back. You burst out laughing at him and he sat there sulking, his pout becoming more prominent.

"I'm sorry but what is the matter! You're acting like the last ice cream cone on earth fell at your feet!"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

You walked to him and took his face into your hands. "Look, whatever it is, it's bothering you, and that bothers me, so we're going to talk about it. I'm going to go put my new clothes away. Do you want to come in the bedroom with me? I'll give you a little show ... hm? C'mon. It might cheer you up."

You smiled warmly at your crazy boyfriend and grabbed your bags. Dragging him by the waistband of his sweatpants, the two of you went into the master bedroom.

"This won't work, y'know," Gojo said with no tone in his voice at all. "I can already guess what you bought. I already know what colors you got everything in. Jus', jus' let me go be misera– shit."

Your face lit up as if you cracked the code to some horrific crime. Unbeknownst to you, it was far worse. "AHA! I knew it was something!" As soon as you said that, you regretted your words. "I'm sorry for yelling that. But you can't hide stuff like this from me, ok? I know you. Now. Why don'cha have a little seaty seat on the bed here and I'll show you what you got me. Ok, baby?" You picked up his hands and made them clap. He was dead weight.

The white-haired man looked like a child who just got in trouble. His head was hanging, and his long, almost translucent lashes were brushing against his pink, flustered cheeks. "Fine. But I'm not gonna enjoy this."

You giggled. "Oh, but I think you might." Taking off all of your clothes except for your thong, you put the bags on the bed and started to dig through all of your new stuff.

Pulling out a black silk hooded crop top, you lower it over your head. It felt so soft against your bare skin. You walked to Gojo and stuck your breasts in his face.

"Touch. It's so soft. Feel it. Feel me." He reached out and touched the sleeve.

"Mhmm. That's nice. Very silky." He couldn't have cared less. It was unusual for him not to be into the texture of your clothing. He was a very tactile man. He loved touching whatever type of fabric you were wearing. Always commenting on how it accentuated your curves; eyes; ass; lips. Any and every aspect.

"Ok, ok, ok. Here. You'll like this one! Hold on ..." You found the pleated mini skirt slipped your legs through it and turned your back to Gojo to zip it up for you. "Welllll? Pretty, right?"

He looked up at you with no expression. "Nice choice of words. Really, really nice."

"You don't think I'm pretty in th–"

"Why do you keep saying that word? Pretty pretty pretty. Enough already. My god." He threw himself back on the bed and sighed.

You sat down on the bed, folding your legs beneath you."Y'know, Satoru, Baby. You're pretty, too." You began rubbing his thigh. He lifted his head a little and looked you in the eye.

"I'm – ya think? I'm pretty, too?" He moved up a bit more and propped himself on his elbows. "W–what about me is pretty?" What the hell is going on? Satoru Gojo was nothing, if not overly confident. The man never needed reassurance. He was his biggest supporter. His own #1. King of his castle.

"Oh, geez, where do I start! You're sooo tall. You just tower over me and make me feel so little. And ... and safe! You make me feel safe all the time." You massaged his leg with a bit more pressure.

"Bah, everyone knows I'm tall. Try again."

"Your hair is like the clouds in the sky, or, or the snow! And I love how soft and white and fluffy it is. So unique. So soft. I love how you let me wrap my fingers in it and pull your head between my legs. Your pretty face is the only one allowed there, Gojo."

"I, I do have nice hair. That's that a little better. Keep going." Your hand moved to the very top of his thigh. "And whatever you're doing here, I'm not in the mood. So don't get your hopes up, y/n."

"Of course, my pretty boy. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, ok. Your eyes are like ... like diamonds! All sparkly and bright when they light up whenever you talk about something interesting to you. You're so beautiful!"

You threw your left leg over his hips to straddle him, and you leaned over to put your face next to his. "And your cock. You've got the nicest cock I've ever seen. It's so long and thick. It feels so, so good when you're pounding into me." You shivered. Half out of excitement for talking about his cock when it was just beneath you and half to shake Gojo out of whatever slump he'd found himself in.

"Yeah, You do love my cock, y/n."

"Mmhmm! It feels so good when you tease me with it. When you just put your fat tip in me. It drives me cray-zee!" You ground your barely covered cunt on him when you broke the word 'crazy' syllables apart into two. "Fuck, 'Toru. Please tell me what's wrong?"

He lifted his hands and put them on your exposed thighs and gave them a hard squeeze.

"I, ah fuck. Idon'tfeelprettytoday! There! Are you happy now? I. Don't. Feel. Pretty. Today. All spelled out for you. Shit."

Your eyes glazed over, and you tilted your head as you looked at one of the most beautiful people you've ever had the pleasure of looking at.

"YOU, SATORU FUCKING GOJO, DON'T FEEL PRETTY? My beautiful baby boy. You are the prettiest, most sexy person I know. Tell me ... how can I fix this for you. Because I won't sit by for another second and not take action while you're feeling this way. What do you want? Anything. I'll do anything for you."

He smiled. So small that anyone else would've missed it. But you saw it begin to spread over his pouty lips. His eyes gradually trailed over to the strap-on harness hanging from the chaise lounge in front of the window. He ran his hands up under your skirt and snapped the thong on your sensitive skin. When you jumped and said ow, you swear you felt his cock move just a little. He's feeling better.

"Is that what you want, baby? You want me to make you feel real pretty, hm? Well, why didn't ya just say so from the start, my beautiful princess." You kissed him on his nose and climbed off of him to get the harness.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah, Satoru? What is it?"

"Can I, uhm. Can I, ahhh, can I have a drink, too? Before we ... ahem. You know."

You stopped your warm-up thrusting into the air with the navy blue dildo attached to your hips. "Gojo. Are you ... are you nervous? Baby, we've done this a thousand times before. What's different about this time?"

You started jerking off the fake cock that stood fully hard before you. Something ... something about it just felt good. You didn't know if it was the shy pink color Gojo had turned. Whether it was his hesitancy about letting you proceed to fuck him in the ass. You were getting wet, though.

"No! No, nothing's different. I'm not nervous. Nervous? Me? Ha ha, no. You're hilarious."

"Satoru, don't lie. Do not lie to me. If there's something on your mind, just say it. Otherwise, I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before." You were coming off as a little too invested in this. Too excited to jam him full of your 'cock.' Not that you aren't generally excited to peg him. But today was so difficult to pinpoint the energy of the space. Something was off and it was making your heart race and your pussy drip.

"Ok, ok. I'm a little nervous. Is that a problem?" He was starting to lose his edge. The more you tried to coax him out, the more he was willing to submit to you.

"Baby. I promise I'll make you feel so good. You'll forget all about your problems, yeah? Let me ... do this for you." What the fuck had come over you, talking like some sleazy asshole predator in a dive bar. But it was too late. You were into it.

"I have an idea, 'Toru. Stay right there, ok?" He nodded nervously. You went into the walk-in closet and found some of his clothes to put on.

You took off your crop top and skirt and slipped into one of his black t-shirts and black pants. The pants had to be a pair of his ankle pants because he's so much taller than you. But you made it work. He had a rack of sunglasses from which you picked a random pair. They were all sexy.

One last thing before you stepped back out in the room; you plugged the dildo into place and made your grand entrance.

"Ta-da!"

Gojo was sitting on the bed in the same position you'd left him in.

"Y/n, I–"

"Shhh. Now. I want ... you to," you pulled one of your new bras out of a bag and ripped the price tag off with your teeth. Tossing it in his face, "I want you to wear this. And this." He caught the garter belt in his hand and studied it for a moment.

"Y/n, I, I know how to take these off, but I have no idea how they go on."

"That's ok. I can help. Lay down, pretty boy. C'mon. Put your head up here. Ok, good. Now, let's get your panties on, shall we?"

Gojo looked at you like this was his first time. Technically, you've both never gone so far as to wear each other's clothes. But you were hell-bent on making him feel better. And if that meant stuffing all of him into cute little panties, so be it.

You grabbed a pair of black, lacy cheekies and gently rolled them up his legs. He lifted his hips when you tugged them over his ass. They were snug.

"How does it feel, my precious Gojo?" You asked in a voice that was much deeper than your regular tone.

"F-fine, thanks." He was finally smiling.

"I'm gonna have to put a bra on you, too. Ok?"

"Y–yes."

You found one that matched the panties and brought it back to the bed.

"Arms, please." He complied. "Good boy."

You clasped the bra around his back and slid the straps up his arms. His pale, milky skin was starting to flush with embarrassment.

"How do you feel, Sweetie? Hmm?

"Like I'm pretty."

"You are. And, oh, look at that." You reached behind his neck and unclasped the bra.

"What, what is it? Am I not pretty enough in this?"

"No. Shush. You're perfect, but this has gotta go."

"Oh, ok." He was pouting.

"Because I don't think we need to use a bra today. You won't have much on your chest anyway." You folded the bra and tossed it on his nightstand.

"I don't have much on my chest." He laughed a little.

"Right. And, well, I mean. Unless I wanna play with these." You grabbed his nipples and twisted them between your fingers. "Then, yeah, you'd have a lot on your chest."

"Ah, fuck. Ok. Whatever. Do, do whatever you want." He winced, but you could see how much tighter the panties had gotten on him after you did that.

You smirked at him. "Oh! Baby, I know what I want. I've gotta put a skirt on you. Then we can play."

"A skirt? A skirt, y/n."

Once he was in nothing but the panties and the garter belt, you found the pleated skirt and held it open. "C'mere, lover. Let's shimmy you into this."

Gojo stood up and you helped him put his legs through. It was a short skirt and it rode up his hips so perfectly.

"Now, I'm going to have a seat on the bed. I want you to kneel between my legs. Do it for me, 'Toru. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?"

"Y-yes."

You sat on the bed and spread your legs wide. The fake cock was sticking straight out, and the sight of him staring at it, eyes nearly begging for it, made your clit tingle.

"Look at how hard my cock is, Satoru. Mm. Come suck it."

Gojo dropped to his knees, almost instantly. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, y/n. What do I do?"

"You don't watch me? Just ... like you're trying to such a golf ball through a garden hose." He looked up at you wide-eyed.

"What?? I ... I can't –" You laughed.

"I'm kidding. Just do what you think would feel good to you. You'll figure it out." You brushed the hair from his forehead and lifted his face to yours to kiss him deeply before pushing him back down.

"Mm, thank you, y/n." He kissed the tip and sucked the entire head of the silicone cock into his mouth.

"So fucking sexy, Satoru. Yeah, good job, my sweet boy."

You ran the top of your foot under his balls, increasing the pressure and speed the more he got into sucking 'your cock.'

"Shit. Your mouth feels so good. Ah, that's my pretty little slut, suck it, yeah."

Gojo hummed and closed his eyes, and began taking the fake dick deeper and deeper into his throat.

"Ah, baby, you're taking me so fucking deep. So well. Goddamn it, I love you."

Gojo started to slide his hand up your thigh. As much as you wanted the roles to be reversed, you took his hand in yours and held it gently as he continued to move his mouth up and down on the fake cock.

"Are you getting wet for me, 'Toru? I bet you are. I bet your tight little hole wants me to fuck it, huh? You just say the word, my pretty."

"Nghhh," he mumbled, nodding.

"Use your words. Use them or I'm not fucking you. Do you want me to fuck you, 'Toru?"

He lifted his head from your dick and panted. "Yes! Yes, I want you to fuck me, y/n. Ple‐please! I'm ready for you!"

You stood up and took his hand, guiding him to lay down on the bed.

"You're so cock drunk, it's beautiful."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Lay down, gorgeous. On your back or hands and knees?"

"I, I don't know. You pick."

"Let's go with on your back. It's not the first time you've taken something big."

"Yes ma'am," he said as he lay back on the plush, scattered pillows.

The skirt was so short that it was pulled up just a few inches. His cock was strained behind the panties, pre-cum wetting the front of them.

You lay between his legs with your hips pressed into his. Rubbing the cock you wore into his, eliciting low moans from deep within his throat.

"F–fuck, baby. That, that feels so fucking good." He growled.

"Do you want me to eat you out? Before I fuck you. Would you like that, Sweetie? Do you want my tongue on your pretty hole?"

"Oh my –" he swallowed hard "oh my god, yes, y/n."

"Ok then. I'm going to have to lift your hips." You slid a pillow underneath his hips.

"Hold the skirt for me, ok, baby?"

"Ok." He nodded.

He lifted his hands and grabbed the skirt by the neatly sewn hem, bunching it up around his waist. "Is this ok?"

"Yes, sweetheart. Perfect."

You hooked your thumbs on the side of the panties and pulled them down to his knees. His cock sprang free, leaking, red, and angry. You took it in your hand and squeezed him tightly.

"Oh! Oh fffuck." He said through a clenched jaw. Throwing his head back in to the pillows he bucked his hips forward. "J–could you, would you please lick me? I swear, just this once while we do this. Just one time ..."

You examined him. His thighs tremble as you breathe heavily on his veined length. You stuck your tongue out and left it just a couple of inches from his needy head.

He grabbed the base of his cock and dragged it across the part of your hot tongue that was the closest to him.

"Fuck, 'Toru. What did I tell you? Did I give you permission to touch yourself?"

"Your tongue was out! It was right there! I ... I thought ..." He looked sad.

"I'll give you one pass, but if you disobey me again, I'm gonna have to put all of this stuff away for another day, ok? And I don't think that would make either of us very happy. Do you?"

He shook his head so hard it made his hair bounce on his forehead.

"That's my good boy. Now, where was I?"

You dipped your head and licked his puckered hole.

"Oh god."

"Shhh. Be a good boy and just try not to cum. If you do, you're going to be in big trouble."

He nodded and bit his lower lip.

You circled your tongue around his tight little hole, then pushed it in.

"Ngh, fffuuuckkkk. Ahh!"

"That's my good boy. You're so wet for me. So tight." You pressed your fingers to his hole and felt him relax against them.

"Please. Please, fuck me. I'm ready. Fuck, please."

"Mmm, I don't know. Are you sure you're ready?" You pushed two fingers in and felt his muscles tighten and pull.

"Yes! Yes, y/n, I'm ready! P-p-please." He begged.

"Ok, my gorgeous, sweet boy. You stay right where you are. I'm going to grab something really quick. And 'Toru?"

"Huh? What?"

"No touching while I'm gone. Understand?"

"Y–yes. I got it. No touching."

"Good." You stood up and went into the bathroom to find the bottle of lube.

When you walked back out, he was touching himself. His hand slowly pumped up and down on his cock. It was slow, but still, he was touching himself.

"Hey! What did I just say?"

"I, I'm sorry, y/n. I tried not to, but I couldn't help myself."

"Uh-uh. You know the rules."

"Shit! I'm sorry! What're you gonna do? Please don't put everything away!" He cried. He was so hard it looked painful. You couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

"I s'pose I should take some responsibility for you groping yourself. I shouldn't have left you. Ok, it's ok, Baby." You walked over to him and kissed his forehead.

"Y-you're not mad?"

"No. Of course not. I would never be mad at you. Well, ok, I might. But you're so fuckin' hard right now. Almost as hard as this thing." You slapped the dildo and he grimaced and jumped. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do that to you."

He relaxed as you poured lube over the navy blue cock. You spread it around, jerking the slick length, and Gojo watched intently.

"You ready, Satoru?"

"Yes. Please, fuck me, y/n."

You climbed on the bed and kissed him softly.

"Good." You pushed the tip into him and he groaned out in pleasure.

"Fuckfuckfuck, oh god, nngh!"

"You're being so good for me, baby. So perfect. My perfect, precious boy."

"I love you." He said with star-shaped pupils. His blue eyes glassy with tears.

"I know." You replied as you geared up to go deeper.

You pushed further and further in. Gojo was biting his bottom lip so hard you thought it might bleed, so you kissed him to give his bottom lip a break. Sliding in more until you were fully immersed in his tight ass.

"Fuck, baby, I'm in all the way. God, you feel amazing."

"Ah, fuck. Nggghh," he moaned. "Feels ... good."

"Yeah? Tell me, how good does it feel when I fuck you?"

"Nnghh, feels so ... so ..."

"I wanna hear you say it, Baby."

"Makes me feel pretty."

"It does, yeah? Good. Because you are. You're so pretty it makes me crazy for you."

You pumped in and out of him as you felt his cock jerking against your belly. He would raise his hips so you could hit him deeper.

"Hmm – y/n, y–, fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

"Not yet."

"But ... but I'm gonna — oh FUCK!"

"I said, not yet. Do not cum, Satoru."

"Please, fuck," He whined. His voice cracking from the strain of holding his orgasm back.

"Such a good boy. Fuck, yeah. So close, aren't you, baby." You started fucking him faster than he knew what to do with. His body was so tense. His cock was pulsating against your abdomen. You wanted so badly for him to fuck you, but this wasn't about you. This was for him.

"I can't! I can't stop it. Oh god. I'm gonna fucking cum. Y/n, shit!"

"Not until I tell you, pretty boy. You're still my pretty baby boy, aren't you, 'Toru? "

"Fuck, yes! Yes! I'm your pre–gahh–pretty baby ... boy! Please, I'm gonna die!"

"Ok. Cum." You said so casually, like you asked if he was done with the section of newspaper you wanted.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhh, fuccccckkkk, oh god, I'm – I'm, cumming, fuck, ffuckk!"

His body shuddered as ropes of his thick, hot seed painted your belly and his.

You grabbed the head of his cock and squeezed out the last drops as he shook beneath you.

"Say it." You demanded.

"I'm the prettiest one of all!"

"Damn right, you are."

[fallershipping]

Tight Squeeze

(Short Drabble) Looker x Anabel - Mutual Pining, Sensual Tension, SFW

It's the early morning worker rush, and an Interpol agent of any merit mustn't be late as to best keep up appearances. Looker glides down the flight of stairs, subway card on hand and sipping a takeout coffee with the other. A quick wave to the train gate and the card spins back into his pocket-- like a pistol to its holster.

Perfectly timed, his cup's all but empty when he reaches his station, and is promptly discarded into the same recycling bin as always. Around him, the same ol' reoccurring commuters. Same ol' chime of the station's alerts. Same ol' tired and groggy Ana--

Looker takes a second glance over and blinks.

"Chief?"

Anabel, covering a yawn with a gloved hand, slowly looks on over to her recently arrived companion. Her eyebrows raise just a teeny bit, rubbing her eyes when the fluorescent ceiling bulbs hit her vision.

"Mm... Mr. Looker?" Her voice is only just now waking itself, "Oh... Right, I've almost forgotten... This is the station you take..."

"Yeah, so it is." He scratched the back of his head. "And so it's yours? Don't you take Lat-- Your Pokémon as a ride to HQ?"

"I do... Usually." Anabel took a slow breath and exhaled. She softly smacked her cheeks, an effort to stir herself up to be at a more wakeful state. "And I usually... Am not up so early."

Not so early? Looker decides to keep his 'sleeping in' comment to himself.

"But LaaaaaaShit--.... He's a little sick."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, Chief." Looker frowned a little, eyebrows drooping, "I hope he gets better...!"

"Thank you..." A weary smile. "All he needs is a little..." Another yawn. "Rest..."

A little bit of rest?

"It sounds like something you're in need of yourself, Chief."

That comment came out on its own.

Anabel hums in response, smiling in bemusement. Point taken there. Though with all her drowziness, Looker must note that she had already been present here before even his most punctual rhythm. He huffed, cracking the briefest of smiles at the thought; she never does cease to impress.

The pair's patience was rewarded with the oncoming alert of the subway tram. Methodically, the two agents took a step forward in preparation to board, once the blur of the moving vehicle slowed to a smooth stop.

The opening doors, however, revealed a rather unwanted sight: the car was already a fairly bit occupied.

Looker grimaced. He's met with this onslaught before, but Anabel...?

He turned over to her, once tired eyes a bit widened from shock. The woman took a step back in apprehension, but it was a futile move. There was quite a number of people behind them both, and the hoard threatened to charge.

Springing into action, Looker covered Anabel from her front, his arms guiding her towards him as he walked back into the tram.

"Ack-- Chief, with me!" And not a second too soon. Anabel was pushed forward, merely squeaking out a little yelp in surprise. Without Looker there to bear the brunt of the force, she feared a rather painful shove into the person in front of her. And just as soon as it started, the station chimed once more, and the subway doors sealed the sardines shut.

Though cramped, it was a moment of respite as the train gradually picked up speed down the tracks. Just this one train ride and it'll be a a short, open air walk until HQ...

... Ah... What are Anabel's hands up against?

In an act to shield her body from the forceful move, she must have raised her arms as a reflex. Looker felt a soft weight on his pecs, and finally looked down from finding and grasping the handle grip to investigate the source.

Oh.

Anabel's body was very, very pressed up against Looker's.

"Ah--!" The Chief turned a vivid pink at their predicament, lavender eyes looking up towards him not unlike a skittish Deerling caught offguard, "F-Forgive me Mr. Looker I can't move--!"

"N-No it's fine, it's fine!" Looker managed to turn whatever sound was coming out into an awkward chuckle. His throat now felt so suddenly clogged and dry. That other arm of his protectively wrapped around his boss is also yet to be addressed and is quite stuck itself.

Anabel cleared her throat. She lowered her gaze to the side and pretended she was not currently chest-to-chest with her coworker. Albeit, that thumping in her ribcage was hard to ignore and pray the gods that Looker doesn't notice just how loud that heart of her was at the moment. Goodness, those pecs are firm.

Looker wasn't fairing any better. He was close enough to smell her shampoo no matter how hard he faced away it was so cramped! Was that vanilla? No, Looker was a better man than this, this was no time to think about sweets! Or, perhaps it was the perfect time, because he would need absolutely everything in the world to distract him from Gods Chief don't you dare, don't you dare move a muscle because currently your hips are right up against my--!!

The tram car slowed to a steady stop. The overhead chime and electronic announcer stating the station they had arrived at.

It was not their stop, but it was a miracle nonetheless. A large chunk of the crowd exited the train onto the civilian traffic, and a much beloved and needed space became quite the notable gap between Looker and Anabel. There was finally room to breathe the necessary breaths after such a nerve-wracking ordeal.

Looker adjusted his tie, swallowing hard. He grinned sheepishly at his superior and hoped to break the silence between them both.

"... M-Maybe I'll consider Corviknight Airway for while, aha!"

"Y-Yes, of course." Anabel averted eye contact, though she carried the most bashful of smiles while tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "... And if you need to pay the tab... We can always carpool."

[tickly-trashcan]

hii hope your days been going well!! deadass been returing to re read your most recent fic its stuck in my thoughts you wrote them so good im crushing it in my palms

for the hc reqs!! what do you think about kai?? hes been stirring my brain mush like pancake batter and i would like to hear hcs you have >:]

A/N: JETT LITERALLY BLESS YOU FOR THIS i'm going to sob I love Kai so much i want to squeeze him so hard he melts in my hand!!! ur art has been feeding me and i hope i can return the favor by yelling about Kai because im INSANE and i hope u enjoy.... have a lovely day!!

OHMYGOD okay so he's tickly. HES TICKLY and he should absolutely get got because he's just a silly guy and he acts all tough but one poke and he folds like a fckn lawn chair and its so funny

like if you squeeze his hips and he's not paying attention he crumbles instantly. disintegrates

he is totally one of those people who doesn’t mind being tickled but will absolutely deny it because he’s so fckn stubborn LOL

he’s more used to being the one doing the tickling since he’s the oldest sibling, but that doesn’t mean that Nya hasn’t gotten him good over the years lol

one time at dinner Kai was bragging about how he had just tickled Jay to bits over a bet or something stupid LOL and Nya was like “oh that’s cool but remember when i tickled you so bad that you promised to do all my chores”

this almost immediately resulted in Kai getting tickled to try and pass off chores LOL

kai is super dramatic when he’s being tickled like he’ll flail and shriek even if he’s just getting poked

when Lloyd was still a wee lad he would sneak up behind Kai and tickle him and then run as fast as his little legs could take him LMFAOOO

Kai got him really good after that but Lloyd never stopped doing it until he got older and claimed he was “more mature”

Do not believe Lloyd this is a lie he is still a goofy kid at heart and definitely still tickles Kai just to mess with him

ALSO when Lloyd was younger Kai would always give him piggy back rides or shoulder rides

he would tickle Lloyd sometimes while he was up there because he thought it was funny that he had absolutely nowhere to go LOL so he’d just be wiggling around while Kai tickled his hips or his feet

Even after Lloyd got older HES STILL TEENY and so on occasion he still gets piggy back rides. Kai complains that he’s too old for shoulder back rides and that Lloyd will break his back LOL

Jay claims that since he’s short he should also get piggy back rides and one time Kai just wanted him to shut up so he let him have one and then Jay immediately started tickling Kai and it was so funny

IT WAS EVEN FUNNIER bc he had the dramatic slow fall to his knees and then Jay just pinned him down and tickled the snot out of him

Kai uses Nya as one of his primary excuses to tickle Jay like “price for trying to smooch my sister is tickles” and its funny because half the time he tickles Jay for this he wasn’t even doing anything LOL he probably just looked in her general direction

I would also like to think that since Kai and Nya are siblings they 100% are mean to each other in the most petty way

so like Jay will be saying something about Nya and Kai immediately is like “she snores btw. and she doesn’t always brush her teeth. and she thinks cantaloupe is the best fruit which is weird who likes cantaloupe”

Jay told Nya he said this and then she was like “well did you know Kai can’t spell Fahrenheit. and he does muscles at himself in the mirror. and he thinks cantaloupe sucks because he got food poisoning from it which is a skill issue on his end”

ITS FUNNY BECAUSE… EVERYONE ELSE IS AN ONLY CHILD IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY??? so they do Not understand why Kai and Nya do this shit and it’s so funny and then eventually they get into a tickle fight and they’re screaming at each other about CANTALOUPE

i should also note here that Nya almost always wins tickle fights with Kai. why? i do not know. it is just the way it works for them

Kai runs warm so i think he’s actually more sensitive to tickles from Zane especially bc. Zane’s hands are always a bit icy

like when Kai’s wearing a thick enough shirt he doesn’t notice but i think they had like. sleeveless outfits a few times?? yeah Zane stuck his hands under Kai’s arms when that happened and Kai actually screamed so loud

He also jumped and ended up falling back on top of Zane and knocking them both over LOL he’s so dramatic but also it did tickle pretty bad for him

GAAAAH i could go on for so long about Kai it's not even funny PLS i literally love him sm thank you again for the request and i hope you have a SPLENDID day and drink ur water bc its good for u!!!

[percervall]

if your cascade ocean wave blues come

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 1084 Warnings: Detailed description of a panic attack, dealing with mental health struggles, smut (just teeny bit), cockwarming (if you squint) A/N: I had this idea for a while but couldn't figure out where to begin until it hit me one Sunday and I wrote the whole thing pretty much in one sitting

---

You know before you even look at the clock that it’s early in the morning. It’s still pitch black, the world outside of your bedroom is very much still asleep. If only you were that lucky.  You can feel the worry gnawing at the edges of you as it takes up more and more space. Sighing, you toss and turn, trying to find the sweet spot on your pillow that will shut your brain up. It had been quiet up until the moment it woke you up, the pre-bedtime activities enough to tire you out, your anxiety riddled brain peacefully going along. Unfortunately for you, your brain wins this fight; thoughts begin running a million miles an hour and you can feel the panic slowly clawing its way into your chest and up your throat. 

You’re trying to fight the unravelling with logic, but it’s to no avail when your head keeps pelting you with what ifs and shouldn’t haves. You try to keep your breathing even, hoping that the war that’s raging in your body won’t wake up your boyfriend, but the feeling of someone squeezing your throat closed does absolutely nothing to help you do so. 

In.. out.. you tell yourself, counting your breaths as hot tears burn at the corners of your eyes and you swallow down a sob. You squeeze your eyes shut, a hand clamped over your mouth as you try every single coping strategy your therapist taught you, but nothing works –the failure only adds to the panic that’s tearing its way through you, paralysing you in the process as the only thought that crosses your mind is I can’t breathe. 

You know it’s too late to take the sleeping tablets she prescribed you with; if you take one now, you’ll be knocked out for the next 9 hours. The weighted blanket you would fall back on is still at your own flat, seeing as you had forgotten to bring it. You hadn’t thought you would need it, things had been going so well ever since you switched meds –too well apparently. Right now you could kick yourself for your optimism. Granted, things had been a lot worse at the beginning of your relationship with Marcos, where the anxiety had felt debilitating at times and you even wondered what he saw in you in the first place. Thankfully he was quick to dispel all your doubts and assure you that if anything, it made him want to love you harder, fiercer. 

Trying the breathing exercise once more, you let out a shaky breath but it’s not working. A frustrated sob escapes as an arm wraps itself around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“‘S wrong?” your boyfriend mutters in your ear, still half asleep. You try to answer him, but the panic has made it impossible to form a coherent thought. Instead you let out the sobs you’d tried to bite back. 

“Hey,” Marcos says, sounding a lot more awake now, “hey, I’ve got you.” 

You allow him to turn you around, to pull you against him. You claw at his chest, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips serving as a small reminder of what lulled you to sleep in the first place. Marcos keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear, keeps running his fingers through your hair. You can feel his heart beating in his chest where your fingertips rest against his skin. The steady thud thud thud provides you with the lifeline you need in order to break through the haze of anxiety, as you slowly, so very slowly, return into your body. You realise how tense your muscles are as you try to relax into him, how you feel an ache whenever you move your legs, serving as another reminder as to what served as a sleeping aid. 

Marcos rubs slow little circles over your shoulder, the touch enough to break through the last of the fog in your brain. Your body feels heavy all of a sudden as the tension drains out of you. Taking a deep breath, you exhale slowly, before opening your eyes. A dull ache is settling behind your eyes and you know that it’ll feel like you’ve been hit by a truck when you wake up tomorrow, but you’ll gladly deal with that over the aftermath of a full blown panic attack that would lead you down the scary spiralling thoughts rabbit hole. 

Marcos looks at you, his eyes swimming with concern and adoration for you. 

“Had an anxiety attack?” he asks and you nod.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you whisper, “just want to stop thinking.” Marcos smiles sleepily and pulls you even closer. 

“I thought you had fucked me dumb,” you confess, voice small, cheeks burning and core throbbing as more memories flood your head of how he had pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. Marcos’ chuckle reverberates through your chest and you can almost make out his cocky grin at your disguised compliment. 

“Let me try something. Am too tired to fuck you dumb as you so eloquently put it,” he says, pulling your thigh over his hip, “but maybe this’ll do the trick,” he adds and gently, so very gently nudges his semi-hard cock into you. You gasp, the feeling of him stretching you is almost overwhelming. He slides in easily, you’re still dripping from earlier with your own release mingled with his cum. Marcos holds you against him, one hand buried underneath his pillow while the other grips the fleshy part of where thigh meets hip. Your breath comes out panting as you get used to the feeling of him, fighting the urge to roll your hips.

“God, you always feel so good,” Marcos all but groans. You can’t help but moan in agreement, the feeling of being so full enough to make your brain stop whirling. It forces you to remain firmly in your body and out of your head. Marcos allows you to snuggle into him, and you let out a content little sigh as the exhaustion tugs at you. 

“Think you can sleep like this?” Marcos murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You nod, letting out a soft hum in agreement as your eyes struggle to remain open.

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Mm, more than welcome mi flor. Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, and it’s all the encouragement you need to fall asleep, feeling so warm and safe wrapped up in the cocoon his body creates for you. 

ngl, I was nervous to post this one. Having dealt with mental health problems myself (and having suffered from panic attacks), it hit a little close to home. Know that if you recognise yourself in this fic, you are worthy of help and love.

please let me know what you think, your comments are like breadcrumbs for the fanfic goblins in my brain (or maybe they're ducks. who knows?)

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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[shingekinomyfeelings]

Okay so this post got me thinking about how Reiner would be as a pet parent/co-parent, and now I must share my little selfship headcanons for what his dynamic with each of my pets would be. I encourage you all to do the same with your own pets if you like! Also I like showing off my babies.

Reiner trying to befriend my pets

Reiner has more experience with dogs than with cats, so he's immediately excited to meet Mason. Mason's trauma from being abused by his original owner means he still gets spooked very easily by loud noises and unusual objects, so Reiner kind of tip toes around him - more than he needs to, to be honest. If he accidentally scares Mace, he's following him around practically on his hands and knees, offering treats and trying to make it up to him. Mason quickly realizes that Reiner is easily manipulated for food, and it's not long before I have to put a very strict limit on how many treats Reiner can feed him per day.

Reiner hasn't spent much time around cats and isn't quite sure how to interact with them at first, but he soon becomes pretty much as obsessed with Mochi as I am. She's tiny! Adorable! Ridiculously sweet! But boy when he finds out that she's a teeny bit disabled and has certain physical limitations, he starts treating her like she's made of glass, making sure she doesn't over exert herself and helping her onto every surface she wants onto even though she's perfectly capable of climbing. Within a month of meeting him, Mochi realizes Reiner is basically a meow-controlled elevator/butler.

Reiner thinks everything about Chicken Nugget is hilarious, and is inordinately amused by the simple fact that this little being actively responds to the name 'Chicken Nugget' no matter how many times he sees it happen. Whenever she gets fired up and starts upsetting the others by playfully slamming them to the floor, he picks her up and patiently explains to her that being bigger and stronger than her siblings means she has to control her strength :c He tries to decode her mysterious whims, but she seemingly develops new ones constantly just to keep him on his toes.

Porscha is the worst cat on the entire planet, but Reiner is aghast when I say so. He refuses to believe such things and is incredibly permissive of everything she does. Slowly he grows to regret this as Porscha obsessively touches his face while he sleeps, does literally the worst thing she can at any given moment, and eats his hair. Reiner is still too stubborn, though, insisting that she's not being that annoying. All of the behavioral training I've done with Porscha is set back to square one because Reiner won't tell her 'no' for anything. Finally he breaks down one morning when Porscha freaks out because a strand of hair she pulled off his head and ate is stuck in her butt. We being training anew, but Reiner still feels guilty when he has to curb her obsessive behaviors by not rewarding them with interaction...

He doesn't even see Ponzu for the first time until several months in, when she peers out from a closet. He thought maybe I was joking about having a fourth cat who fears all humans but me. Reiner is so excited to finally see this cryptid that Ponzu gets startled and vanishes into the cat dimension. Reiner becomes determined to befriend her, setting up stake outs where he'll set out food and hide behind a chair and wait until Ponzu approaches, and any time she glances at him he tries to do the 'slow blink' that I told him cats use to signal goodwill. He's a little pouty when after nearly a year, he can only interact with Ponzu if he's seated on the floor and not looking directly at her, but sometimes when he's sleeping I'll catch her snuggled against his feet.