#i know it's him bc of the cheeks but .. yellow

[tieredcake]

source

[thoughtssvt]

adventures of sugardaddy nanami kento and his frugal sugarbaby [pt. 1]

nanami kento x reader ; domestic fluff ; suggestive | [ pt. 2 ]

MDNI — 18+ interactions only

you were probably the most frugal sugar baby nanami had ever met. given you were the only sugar baby he'd met.

he heaved a heavy sigh as his quiet footsteps came to a stop several feet behind you. you were clad in nothing but a shirt two sizes too big, a thin layer of sweat on your skin shining in the yellow light that seeped into his kitchen, steam swirling through the air as you scrubbed away.

"you know i have a dishwasher, right?" he huffed almost disappointedly.

you squeaked a sound of confusion. "why would i use that when i could just wash them?" you tutted as if it was the obvious answer.

he draped his body over yours, melting into you. "because the dishwasher came with the place," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, softly grumbling at the feeling of the small wet spots against your tummy. "i pay you to sit pretty, i didn't pay you to be a maid," he mumbled into your shoulder. "have you even bought anything for yourself with your allowance?"

a wide smile spread across your face, your posture perking against his weight. "yes!" you say proudly, "this dish rack and this scrub daddy!" you chime, holding up the yellow smiley face for kento to see.

your brows quirked into confusion as kento sucked in a slow, deep breath through his nose. "so... you bought me something?" he pointed out trying his hardest not to pinch the bridge of his nose.

you hummed in thought, "well technically i bought us something."

he seemed to slump heavier against you, "seriously, what am i to do with you?"

"praise me for my sound financial decisions and clean dishes?" you giggled, turning your head to plant a soft kiss against his cheek.

the grip around your midsection tightened, kento's body rapidly heating, "if it's praise you want, it's praise you'll get," his voice rumbled deep in his chest as he slowly pulled you away from the sink, uncaring that you weren't done yet. not even the running faucet was enough to keep him from pulling you back to bed so you can sit pretty exactly how he wanted.

A/N : idk if i'll make this a series tbh i just wanted to get this out. it got me through washing a mountain of dishes lol ahhh I was also itching to post bc I missed you guys

part 2 | nanami x reader masterlist | sugar daddy kento masterlist

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[sanguineterrain]

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

[lightsoutletsgo]

flowers are a language of their own — mv.1

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 4.2k warnings:  slight angst

four times max gives you flowers and the first time you reciprocate, a childhood friends to lovers oneshot this is basically inspired by gwen and for gwen 😭 @verstappen-cult once again thanking you for my max brain rot bc these conversations are just DOING something to me skskksjsj but MWAH! I hope you like it my love 🤍 happy reading! mimi

i. daisies; new beginnings, innocence, cheerfulness (age 6) You hadn’t been at your new school very long, having moved to the town recently. You’d struggled with making new friends, the new language making things even more difficult. But this had really ruined your day. Your bottom lip jutted out and began to wobble as you looked at your drawing you’d spent the whole morning perfecting before tidy-up time. What had once been a beautiful explosion of scribbled crayon colours across one page now lay in two halves. It was more than your poor six year old brain could handle and so you immediately burst into tears. Wailing and sobbing, your teacher hurried over to see what the issue was. Between gasping inhales and snotty sobs you pointed to your crumpled torn drawing. She picked it up and turned to address the class of wild six year olds, “Alright class, does anybody know what happened to Y/N’s picture?” Your teacher’s voice was gentle, “You won’t be in trouble but our friend is very sad so we need to apologise and make it right okay?” Your bottom lip wobbled as your sniffles quietened a little and a small voice could be heard from the back of the classroom, “I didn’t mean to!” A small boy stepped forwards, bright blonde hair with blue eyes and you glared at him. He looked down at the floor as he awkwardly scuffed his shoe against the carpet. The teacher approached him and crouched down, “Thank you for being honest Max… Can you come and say sorry?” He nodded and took the teacher’s hand as she lead him over to you, “I’m sorry…” His apology was accented by a slight lisp and you frowned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Thank you Max, Y/N? Max said it was an accident and that he’s sorry okay?” You let out a slight ‘hmmph’ as the teacher straightened up at the sound of the lunch bell. Max was quick to run out of the classroom with his friends but you plodded behind the group, still sad about your artwork. 

You grabbed your lunchbox from your locker and looked for a chair in the lunch hall. Spotting your favourite yellow chair you couldn’t help but gasp as your little legs headed over as fast as they could carry you. You sat down and opened your lunchbox, legs swinging under the table. You’d barely taken two bites of your sandwich before a boy approached the table. You looked up and saw Max standing there, his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I broke your drawing.” Max did his best to speak so you’d understand.  “‘S fine.” You grumbled, annoyed he was talking to you. Six year old you could really hold a grudge… His cheeks tinted pink as he removed his hands from behind his back to hold out a small bunch of daisies he’d clearly picked from the playing field. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “Here, for you…” He took a step closer and you held your hand out for him to gently place the flowers in your palm. Your eyes looked at him and you noticed how his knees were slightly muddy and there was a streak of dirt on his cheek. You giggled and he beamed back at you, you suddenly felt very shy,

“D-do you want to sit here?” You patted the seat next to you, “We can eat lunch together?” Max nodded, racing off to grab his lunchbox. He dashed back and sat next to you, unzipping his lunchbag to compare the contents with yours. “Are we going to be friends Max?” He nodded enthusiastically, taking your hand in his, “Mhmm! Best friends Y/N! So you can call me Maxie!” 

ii. yellow amaryllis; pride, happiness, strength, determination (age 18) “Smile!” You stood with your friends, taking pictures in your graduation gowns and giggling together. But your heart panged, something - or rather someone - was missing from your day. Your eyes scanned the hall, desperately looking for a familiar blonde head. Despite knowing he was currently halfway round the world at a Grand Prix, “Boo!” A hand covered your eyes and a grin spread across your face at the familiar voice, “Maxie!” Turning around, you jumped into his arms and he laughed out loud, “Easy there bug!” You could hear your friends and family laughing and taking pictures of the two of you behind you but you still didn’t pull away, too embarrassed to let anyone see that you had tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” Max squeezed you a little tighter, “I left as soon as the race was over, there was no way I was missing this!” You pulled back and he wiped the tear that had slipped down your cheek. He let go of you and extended his arm towards you, holding out a beautiful bouquet of yellow amaryllis flowers, complete with yellow and white ribbons. 

“Max,” you gasped “they’re so beautiful!” he nudged your shoulder with his, “Hey, you deserve it. They stand for pride, strength, happiness and determination.” “Determination” You spoke at the same time, finishing the sentence together. His eyes stared at you so adoringly, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. The moment was broken by your parents urging you to stand together for a picture. “What a beautiful couple!” You heard a teacher say as they walked past, “Oh no we’re not-” “Me and him? No way-” Both you and Max spoke over each other, completely missing the knowing looks your friends and family all gave each other. You couldn’t help the fresh wave of giggles that overtook you as Max pulled you into his side. You could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, butterflies took flight in your stomach but you quickly brushed it off, blaming it on the excitement of the day. 

iii. - yellow roses; friendship | bluebells; comfort (age 22) Max couldn’t deny the way that panic flashed through his entire body when he answered your call and heard nothing but your sobs on the other end. “Maxie!” You hiccuped, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” He stood up, not caring that he was interrupting an important team meeting. His alarm grew even more when your only response was to cry even harder. He looked back at the group of people sat around the conference table, “I’m sorry but it’s a family emergency, I have to go.” He raced down the corridor and poked the elevator button far more times than was necessary. “Talk to me bug… I can’t help if you don’t explain what’s going on.” “He cheated Max! I went to his place and he was in bed with my roommate.” Max felt a weird combination of calm and anger wash over him at the same time. Calm because he knew you were safe and anger because who the fuck did your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, think he was? Fuck the elevator, Max headed for the stairs, wanting to get to his car and book a flight to you as soon as possible. “Oh Y/N…” “Said he only did it because he knew that I’d been cheating on him with you.” You heard Max scoff, “God he’s so fucking dumb Y/N… I never really liked him, you know that right? You’ve always been too good for him…” You heard Max sigh on the other end of the line and you curled up into an even smaller ball in your bed, pulling Max’s hoodie up even more as your nose inhaled the comforting scent of him, 

“Can we move to facetime? Just wanna see you.” You choked out and he obliged, quickly filling your request. Max felt his heart breaking as he looked at you in your bed. “Hey! Is that my hoodie, bug?” You nodded with a sniffle as he did his best to cheer you up even just a little, “Traitor! You told me you didn’t know where it had gone…” A watery smile spread across your face. “Look, I’m gonna come see you okay?” You sat upright and stared at him hard, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you cannot do that! You have important meetings this week.” “Ooo full name?” He hissed through his teeth, “I am in trouble.” You shook your head at him, “You’re incorrigible.” “Big words we’re using today hmm?” You flipped him off and he laughed, “I’ll be there soon, bug okay?” You nodded and he smiled at you once more, “Just hang in there for a little longer.” He ended the call and immediately your smile dropped. In those brief few seconds you’d forgotten why you’d even called him in the first place. But now in the quiet of your apartment, the sad feelings crept up once more, smothering you and dragging you down. 

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep the night before, but the combination of the doorbell ringing and the knocking on the door jolted you awake. Rushing to the front door, you threw it open, still slightly disorientated from your rude awakening, “Hey bug.” “Maxie!” You felt wide awake staring at Max who now stood on your doorstep, a warm smile across his face. You immediately felt like bursting into tears once more and Max was quick to see that, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you as he rested his head on top of yours. “It’s okay bug,” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” He waddled with you in his arms, through your doorway and into the hallway to close the door and give you some privacy. As he held you, he felt his heart race a little, thinking how he would never make you or let you cry like that if you were his girl - wait what? Now was not the time to be thinking about those kinds of things! Max held you until your sobbing had quietened down again, “Sorry,” you sniffed all snotty and he just poked your nose and laughed gently, “It’s okay Y/N.” His hand gently rubbed your arm as he watched you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself, “Here.” He pulled a somewhat squished bouquet of flowers out of what seemed like nowhere, “Sorry, they got a little uhhh… too involved in the hug?” You let out a breath of laughter and took them from him, a finger gently tracing the petals, “Yellow roses? For friendship right?” Max nodded with a smile, “Yellow roses, because I’m always gonna be your best friend who has your back and bluebells because they’re comforting.” You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched hearing his words. It seemed that Max not only bought you flowers often but he even thought of the meaning of what he was buying. For some reason, the thought had those pesky flutters appearing in your stomach but you quickly reprimanded yourself and shook them off. You hadn’t even broken up with your ex for more than 24 hours yet, but here you were thinking about Max romantically? You shook your head, that was a line you could never think of crossing, no matter how much it seemed to be crossing your mind more and more the older you got. 

iv. pink tulips; perfect love, affection (now) Now that you were living in Monaco, not too far from Max, movie nights were a common occurrence, with evenings being split between your apartment and his. Food would be ordered and wine would be drunk, movies would be played but barely watched as the two of you would end up talking into the night and continue long after the credits had finished rolling. If there was one thing you could count on Max for, it was his promptness and so when the clock read seven o’clock exactly, you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before you heard his footsteps down the hallway to your apartment. You were proven correct as Max let himself into your apartment, calling out as he did so, “Hey bug! It’s just me!” “In the living room!” You called back, smiling as he appeared in the doorway, holding something behind his back, “What have you got there hmm?” Max’s smile wavered for a second and you frowned, sitting up on the couch, “Max?” He exhaled and bit his lip nervously, “Maxie?” You tried again much more softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I’m about to say something and…” He sighed, “I just want you to let me finish okay?” You nodded confused as he came to sit next to you, holding out a bouquet of pink tulips as he did so. You felt yourself gasp as you stared at the flowers, admiring the pretty wrapping and how the ribbon matched the flowers. You wracked your brain as you stared, desperately trying to recall the meaning, Max always gave flowers with meaning. Appreciation? No, apology? Nope not that... No. It couldn’t be? Could it? “Affection?” You didn’t even realise you’d spoken the word out loud but a sharp inhale from Max was enough to tell you he’d heard you. Your eyes shot up to his face and noticed he wouldn’t even look at you, instead choosing to gently trace over the bouquet ribbon, “Yes.” His cheeks were pink and you could have sworn you stopped breathing. It was silent in your apartment. The only noise coming from the traffic outside and the thump of your neighbour as their work boots clunked over the floor before their door slammed. The noise pulled you out of your silence as you stared at Max, “What did you just say?” Max finally dared to look up as he gazed into your eyes, “Pink tulips, affection, perfect l…” “Perfect what?” There was no way he was going to say what you thought he was going to say… “Perfect love.” You stood up from the couch, immediately pacing back and forth as your hands started to fumble together, “Max…” You breathed, finally stopping to look at him sat staring at you. “Okay so this is the part where I need you to listen…” You let out a laugh of disbelief but said nothing as he swallowed, hands nervously rubbing the legs of his jeans. “I like you.” You froze as he continued, “I like you and I think I honestly have for a while… I know that this might not be the best time to tell you but I just can’t keep kidding myself anymore. The feelings I have for you? They’re not things I would be feeling if you were just a best friend to me Y/N. God I think I always knew it was you… From the day I ruined your drawing and then when I surprised you at your graduation… And then that horrific breakup,” You both winced, “I swore then that I would never let you cry over another man like that again. Because I wanted to be the only man that you had from then on.” Your lips parted as a nervous exhale left you. He stopped his rambling, panting slightly as he looked at you, “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time to say it…” You looked at him. Max, your Max. The boy that had been there for you through everything, your best friend.

“No…” You whispered out, your own heart breaking at your words, “I can’t…” Max looked absolutely crushed, “No?” His voice was quiet, “Why?” You shrugged, bottom lip trembling, “I can’t risk losing you.” Max scoffed, “Losing me?” “What if we break up hmm? You’re telling me we would be able to go back to being best friends like nothing ever happened? What if it doesn’t work hmm?” Max shook his head as your spoke, “You think I would say this to you if I didn’t think it would work?” “I-I… I don’t know!” You exclaimed as Max stood up, “You won’t even try?” “I’m too scared to Max…” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you stared at him, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “Me too.” he said before turning and walking out. The door hadn’t even closed behind him before you’d collapsed to the floor, your legs giving out. You’d never cried so hard because of him before. Not when he’d ripped your drawing, not when he'd surprised you at graduation, not even when he’d held you after your breakup. 

You stared at the pink tulips as they lay on your couch, their bright happy hopeful colour taunting you. You stalked over to them and picked them up, heading straight to the trash, pulling your arm back to throw them away but you found yourself physically unable to do it. 

i. flowers are a language of their own You weren’t sure whether it was convenient or not that Max had a double header after that conversation. Usually you would spam him while he was away and he would pick things up when he could. Often late at night in his hotel bed, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he opened your fit pics and food diary pics of the day, reading through your spam about work, friends and cute cats you’d spotted on the street.

But this time there had been nothing. From either of you. It had been strange and hurtful. You sighed as you checked your phone again for the millionth time that day, already knowing there would be no new notifications from him. Why would there be? The guy you liked had confessed to you and you’d broken his heart because you were too scared he’d break yours. Groaning you dropped your head to the kitchen counter, thumping your forehead against it a few times in the hope of gaining some sense of clarity. It didn’t work. You sighed and stood up straight. You were still kicking yourself for shutting him down so quickly. Yes, he was your Maxie, your best friend, but wasn’t that the point? He knew you so well, he cared for you and loved you, in whatever capacity. He would never intentionally hurt you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, there had been a continuous pull in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest the longer you went without talking to him. You knew if you could do the situation over again you would give a completely different answer. You didn’t want him to break your heart but now you had lost him completely. 

Your head shot up as a plan began to form in your head. Grabbing your phone you looked up plane tickets for the country you knew Max was in at the moment. You knew things would be tricky without his help and you didn’t even know if it would work out, but for him you had to try. Selecting your seat you rushed to pack a bag, noticing how the now dry and dead tulips still lay on your bedroom vanity, the pink now much less vibrant and tinged with brown. Your stomach flipped and you hoped to god it would all work out. You knew which hotel the team usually stayed at when they were racing in that specific country and so after making a quick stop you headed straight there, planning to just wait until you were spotted by someone from the team who recognised you and took pity on you. You didn’t have to wait long as one of Max’s race engineers was exiting the building just as your taxi pulled up. Clambering out of the vehicle as you spotted him, he smiled and waved, “Hey! Didn’t know you were coming this weekend? Max usually says something.” “Ah,” you shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to give anything away about your strained relationship, “it’s a surprise!” His eyes widened and he grinned at you knowingly, especially when he spotted what you carried in your arms. “Well… Seeing as it’s you, I’ll give you his room number.” After obtaining the information you needed you thanked him and headed inside, getting on the elevator and pressing the button for his floor as you thanked whatever higher powers there were that so far the plan was working. As the bell dinged for your floor you gulped, a whole new wave of nerves and anxiety washing over you. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he got angry with you and sent you away? But what if he heard you out? Oh crap, what were you gonna say? 

Through your internal rambling, you had somehow managed to walk to his door and now you stood frozen. Unable to knock and unable to move. Swallowing the lump in your throat you knocked the door gently. You heard a crash and then a curse in Dutch came from inside and you winced. Oh god, if he was already in a bad mood… This wouldn’t help. The door swung open and a tired looking Max stood there. Dressed in cosy sweatpants and navy hoodie, no logos in sight but still fitting his team colours. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in front of him.  “Y/N?” You gave the softest of smiles nervously, “Hi Maxie.”

You weren’t sure what you’d expected when you saw him. You’d thought about how he might yell or cry or get mad or slam the door in your face but you certainly hadn’t expected him to grab your arms and pull you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, “Fuck, I missed you so much I’m so sorry…” You sniffled, pulling back and looking at him, “Why are you sorry?! I’m sorry! I never should have doubted you-” “I never should have pressured you-” “You didn’t! I never should have jumped to conclusions about how things would end. God. It’s been so miserable without you…” You noticed his eyes growing tearful. “Here, come in.” He gently pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you. Your eyes swept the room and zeroed in on an object on his bed, “Is that my t-shirt?” You asked incredulously, mouth gaping at him slightly as he rushed to shove it in his suitcase, “N-no!” “Max Emilian…” Your voice was low, “M-maybe…” You gave him a pointed stare and he relented, “Okay yes fine it is.” He sighed, “I found it at my apartment that night when I got back and… I just… I didn’t have you and it was the closest thing…” He trailed off, sitting on the bed. You padded across the room to take a seat next to him, one hand gently rubbing his back, “I know Maxie… Me too.” His head rested on your shoulder and you inhaled shakily, it was now or never. 

You looked back across the room at where your things lay in the entrance. You stood up and made your way over, picking up what you needed before turning back to him with your arms behind your back. “I’m about to say something…” His head shot up to look at you, “and I need you to let me finish.” You gave him a tearful smile and he swore he felt his breathing quicken as you practically echoed his words from a few weeks ago. You approached him and offered him the bouquet from behind your back. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes flicked up to look at yours.

“Red roses?” You nodded, unable to keep looking at him - partly shy and partly terrified of his answer, until he gently held your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze once more, “Red roses.” “You know what they mean don’t you?” “I picked them for a reason.” He stood up and gently took them from you, one hand sliding round your waist to pull you into him, “Baby’s breath?” “Baby’s breath.” You looked down, breathing your answer as his face got closer to yours. “Is this your speech then?” You let out a breath, “I figured I would let the flowers speak for themselves, god knows you’ve been doing it long enough.”

His lips were practically on yours and it took everything in you to keep standing as his next words were brushed against your lips, “Is this your answer then?” You nodded, “No schat, please… Let me hear you say it…” His eyes closed as he felt your shuddering breath, “Yes, Max. Yes, I want to try with you, I love you and that’s enough to tell me we should try-” Any further words you had were cut off by Max’s lips meeting yours. His grip around your waist tightened, the flowers sliding from his other hand to the floor as he gently cupped your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek. You couldn’t help the way you smiled against his lips and he laughed at the feeling, the two of you giggling and grinning between kisses like the lovesick idiots you were. 

Red roses; declaration of love, Baby’s breath; eternal love.   

[pupkashi]

satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[evilgwrl]

Arranged marriage! With ghost where she’s from a small island and ghost comes to collect taxes well the island is just a few hundred short they can make it up next year? Right?! Nah ghosts is like mmmmm I’ll take what yall call a princess mean while she’s struggling as much as the other fokes on the island so when Simon takes her way and finds out she’s never lived the simple life he makes it his mission to show her the good that can out of this arrangement smutty if you would 😭 I’m obsessed with the arranged marriage trope with ghost he’s a cutie patootie

Arranged Marriage w/ Simon Riley

Holy moly I love this…

Thank you for this idea @creepytoes88 I hope you don’t mind that I made him a king, I just wanted it to flow with giving her a better life and the tax collection <3

King!Simon Riley x Reader

Archipelago

CW: Being sold by your family to pay off debt, sharing a bath, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm bc simon knows what to do ;)

Word Count: 2,623

Twisted fingers hooked under the bark, knees scraped with stagnant flora, coiling limbs of bushy thorns blistering around the tropical plains. There was a subtle burn that sunk through your thighs, muscles gnawing at your bones before you finally settled on a thick branch, wind hissing in your ear, almost warning you. You paid no attention.

Pupil-blown eyes stared off to the view in front of you, lapping in the vicious strain of turquoise, untouched coral glistening an array of colours under the harsh sun. There was a trickle of sweat that ran down the back of your neck, your hair thrown into a rough bun as you shielded yourself with raggedy, overworked fingers.

You watched the skerries surrounding your island, a flurry of birds swooping low before nestling down on the warmth of the rocky floor. It was a peaceful sight. Nothing but the low crash of waves to be sound, the occasional calling of a fellow Islander working its way through the palms and out of the sand, before landing in your ear.

You felt the prickle of pain shoot through your feet as you landed on the ground, the grass covered in speckles of yellow dust sticking in between your toes as you hurried down to the village. Any bit of tranquillity soon disappeared as your eyes locked into the sight of the townspeople, the Island far too small to accommodate such needing families.

“Y/N! Where have you been? The King shall be here soon and you’re off running with the fairies.”

Your Mother’s tone was harsh and reprimanding, her eyes tight with wrinkles as she scowled, chucking a makeshift broom at you. You weren’t exactly sure what the difference of you sweeping would make, the life you live here, swept or not, is strikingly different to the one of a King. No matter how beautiful your Island is, your feet are permanently stained with grains of sand, skin is littered with dull scars and fresh scratches.

You understood her worry, offering her a gentle, apologetic smile as you followed her bustle of orders. Your Father was the village Chief, a wise man who led the people to survive without the worry of advanced civilisation.

You were seen as a headcase to the others. A woman whose head wasn’t fixed well enough to her shoulders. A dreamer. Your mind was amplified by the need to do more, to see more. Untouched beauty too turns mundane when you’re not allowed to experience it.

As night fell, the waves seemed to settle, burying themselves in the crops of sand that spanned around you, 10-legged creatures hiding away in the cocoon of a cracked shell. Palms slept with the safety of coconuts that would blossom into the town’s delicacy, the meat tender on the tongues of children, the water fuel for the fishermen. There was a large bonfire lit, the earthly crackle occasionally popping as a spark flew out, hissing against the cool air before dispersing into a drag of smoke.  

Girls chattered around you, smoothing down their appearances as they used crushed berries on their lips and the apples of their cheeks. You were never fussed about the King, hardly paying attention to him on his previous arrivals if he even bothered to show up. You took note of his lack of empathy, normally sending one of his men in his place, unbothered by the Island that’s supposed to fall under his command.

You heard the ship pull up, wood striking against the ground as it split between the beach, a carved woman tangled to the figurehead, flowing hair etched between wood and a man’s knife as she breached the island. They were a loud bunch, deep voices echoing across the Isle as your father walked down to greet them formally.

The air grew silent, thick smog suffocating the air as your father appeared, his figure shaking as he hobbled towards you. Toughened hands gripped your cheeks, stroking the sun-kissed skin to comfort you.

“Father, what’s wrong?”

“We- We’re short on our taxes,” he gulped, a hand planted in your matted hair as you scrunched your brows together.

“But how? We’re sensible, we work harder- How?”

“Things happen beyond our understanding sometimes, sweetheart, just know me and your mother love you very much.”

“I know? Why are you-” you stalled “- Why are you telling me this? What’s going on?”

“The King needs a wife,” he hiccupped as realisation set in, spine snapping into a cold flush as you attempted to wriggle free from your father’s grip.

“No-“

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice!”

“A choice? There’s always a choice! How could you do this to me?” The strain of a sob wracked through your chest, your heart beating eerily slow against your rib cage as you wailed out for your mother who only walked away, her face concealed by strands of hair. Hands coiled around your biceps, dragging you towards the ship as you carried on, cementing your heels into the dirtied sand to anchor yourself.

“Stop resisting,” A harsh voice spoke into your ear, nails breaking the surface of your tender skin as you nipped at the air, wriggling. Your limbs felt mangled as you were thrown over someone’s shoulder, your stomach caving in with a penetrative force as you choked on the air, saline tears streaming down your face.

Aching skin collided with the sand as you were thrown onto the floor, leather boots staring back at you as your head cocked up. His figure was tall, dressed in all black with a row of medals displayed on his breast pocket. His stare was dark, irises the colour of burnt whiskey, pale lashes flickering down at you before looking back up. The rest of his face was covered by a woven garment, handcrafted to perfection, painted with a white skull.

“Did you find it necessary to throw her at my feet like she’s some dog?”

“Your Majesty she was res-“

“It is a yes or no question.”

His voice was thick with malt, a hidden arrogance underlying his words as his eyes spoke for him. A veiny hand was offered to you, light scars tracing his knuckles before he lifted you, admiring you for a brief second.

“She’ll do. I’ll be back in 6 months,” The King spoke roughly.

The sea breeze was tranquil given the circumstances, the ocean rocking your tears to a halt as you huddled yourself away in the captain’s quarters. Your body was trailed with layers of silk, dirtied clothes moulded to your skin as you sniffled. There was a vast smell of salt, almost suffocating you as it burnt through your nose and hair. You scrunched your skin, rubbing at your nostrils before nestling yourself into a pillow.

You awoke to the sound of commotion. You took in the handful of women surrounding you, their hair tied back in a tight bun, protected by a frilly cap. They wore black and white dresses, aprons attached to their fronts and smiles on their faces.

“Good evening, your majesty. Shall we run you a bath?”

You sat up, hands creasing against the sheets below you as your eyes adjusted to the new scenery. You weren’t on the ship anymore.

“Where am I?” You choked out, huffing your chest out to look more intimidating. In reality, you look cowered, skin droopy with betrayal, burst blood vessels evident under your eyes.

“In your private quarters, the King requested we come to you, settle you in.”

You scowled, “I just want to be alone.” They left in a hurry, feet skidding against the floor in a squeak as they shut the large oak doors behind them.

The room was one for Royalty. The large bed was dressed in golden sheets, red swirls detailing the plush headpieces, solid gold baubles along the edges as tall stakes met the ceiling, lace hanging from them for privacy. Your feet hit the polished marble floors; calloused skin not used to such luxury that you almost yelped in unfamiliarity. Glass trickled from the overhead chandelier, an arrangement of crystals advocating flickers of light across the room, an occasional rainbow seeping through like a diamond in the rough.

Oil paintings hung from the walls, detailed gold wrapping around them as the figurines stared at you dauntingly. A plethora of books rested on shelves, a comforting sofa tucked away in the corner, highlights of red bursting through the stuffed pillows, plucked by the finest of feathers.

The room felt suffocating, the air a terminal sickness that wove into your lungs as you realised the severity of the situation. Your father – your parents, had sold you away to the King to pay for lost taxes. You were a miserable sight as you huddled over onto the floor, chest collapsing with cries as you attempted to grip the material beneath your knees, desperate for the sensation of sand.

Simon watched you intently from the door as he cracked it open, a deafening cough sounding from him as you looked up at him, bewildered.

“I understand the circumstances aren’t the best, but your people owed me, and they chose you as collateral.”

“I want to go home,” you hiccupped, facing away from him in humiliation. His leather shoes hit the floor, striding up to you in only a few steps.

“This is your home now, and in a few weeks, we shall be wedded. Whether or not you choose to invite your family is up to you, but I shall not tolerate disrespect. If you didn’t want the maids to tend to you, that’s fine, but I will.”

You watched his stalking figure disappear into another room attached to your quarters, the heavy pour of water indicating that he was running you a bath. You rose to your feet anxiously, popping your head around the corner as you took in the room. A large tub was carved with porcelain, wide in size with golden feet, bubbles guzzling under the powerful stream as the scent of lavender filled the air.

“Undress,” He spoke as you cocked a brow.

“In front of you?” You scoffed.

“You didn’t want the maids, now you have me. Undress.”

Your clothes itched as they were ridden from your skin, bare body flushed under the light as you attempted to conceal yourself from his bruising vision. The water scolded you as you sunk in, muscles relaxing instantly under the soothing oil. It was an irregular feeling.

You heard him shuffle behind you as you turned, eyes gawking wide as you took in his naked figure, cock resting low against his thigh. A squeak slipped through your lips as you turned around in a fluster.

His mask was off, his face a welcoming surprise. His brows were thick, bulging above slit frames, his nose slightly crooked with a masculine appeal to him.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, chest tight, eyes bulging.

“Bathing,” he practically snarled, “move over.”

Your belly felt hot, the unknowing feeling of arousal seeping through your pores as you adjusted in the water, the liquid rising as he stepped in before you were pulled back against him, bottom flushed against his thighs. You were tense.

“Relax, it’s just a bath. We will not do anything until you’re ready but after marriage, I will need heirs.”

“Heirs? I don’t even know your name!”

A hand coiled around your waist, tugging at the tender skin for a moment before it rested, settling at your upper thigh.

“It’s Simon, Y/N.”

“How do you- “

“What kind of King would I be if I didn’t even know the name of the woman I’m marrying?”

The air was hazy with steam, almost suffocating you as you felt yourself relax against his hard chest, delicate twirls of hair tickling against your spine. As your body settled, Simon washed you, entwined rag lubed with delicate soap as he massaged it into the crevices of your skin, any dirt seeping into the water. His fingers were long as they massaged against your scalp, digging any knots out with a gentle force before rinsing it.

You found yourself refreshed as you settled into the sheets once more, body fresh with a floral scent, skin drenched in almond oil, the glistening reflecting against the flame of the fireplace. The bed sunk in as Simon crawled in next to you, menacing frame wracking against yours. It was silent, the usual sound of waves and birds no longer hushing you to sleep.

Your fingers twitched as you played with the hem of your nightgown, letting out a low, exhausted breath.

“I shall not hurt you for as long as you are mine, Y/N. I hope you grow to trust me and understand that I am a man of my word. If you allow me, I would like to show you who I am and the life you can have here.”

You swallowed. There was an itch inside you that couldn’t be scratched, his words only adding fuel to an uncontrollable flame as you turned to face him, cocked up on one arm. Your gown hung low, strap dangerously low on your shoulder as he adjusted his vision back to your face, lips parted with a flushed manner.

“I’ve never experienced anything before.” Your voice was low, an evident streak of self-consciousness staining it as you averted your gaze.

“Let me help you.”

Rugged fingers lifted your gown up, silk resting against your stomach in a hunched manner as Simon gripped at your thighs, spreading them lewdly. He huffed out a hum of appreciation as you jolted in embarrassment. You were so open, so exposed to fresh eyes.

“No one’s ever touched you here?” He asked. You shook your head, gazing down at him with an unspoken innocence. You felt his lips curl against your thigh as he placed a gentle kiss to it, letting it rest against the warm skin before two fingers pulled apart your lips, glistening folds presented before him.

You felt pleasure tickle up your spine as the King placed a small kiss against your clit, a mewl escaping you as you instinctively attempted to press your thighs together. He let out a tsk as he looked up at you, amused by your reaction.

“Relax for me,” he said, arms flushed around your thighs before his tongue soaked up the middle, your juices drenching his lips as you squealed, your fingers wrapping into his dusty hair as he ravaged the taste of you.

The noises you made were wanton, slopping breaths soaking the air as he worked against you, slurping you into his mouth with an aggravated need for you. His teeth grazed against your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it before sucking, an obscene scream sounding from you as he continued the assault.

“Taste so fucking good,” he quipped, holding your belly down in place as your hips lifted, clit overstimulated by the amount of pleasure it only just began receiving.

“Sim-Simon, I feel strange- somethings happening,” you croaked, pulling at his hair in an attempt to stop him.

“Let it happen,” he growled, his tongue thrusting against your entrance as a finger pressed against your nub, rubbing it in circular motions as you began to hold your breath.

The pressure in your belly was turmoil like an unknown danger was approaching. Simon didn’t stop, the sound of your breath hicking stirring something primal inside of him as he held you down before the pressure inside you popped, a broken whine piercing the air as you came, hips rocking desperately against the King’s face as he growled against your heat.

He pulled away, spit slick against his chin, cocky smile on his face as you panted, chest rising and falling in a synchronised fashion. Your legs closed instinctively, wetness seeping between your bottom as you shivered, satisfied clit throbbing.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

[httpdwaekki]

cozy | l.f.

summary: cuddlin w lixie <3

wc: 542

warnings: none! gn!reader

a/n: happy lixie day!! tbh i’m exhausted and life has been so busy but i needed to do something for my favorite sunshine on his special day <33. but i will be putting out a longer fic for him because he deserves it :3. i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

p.s. i will be making an extended version of this bc i love it so much, okay love u bye

my library | fundraiser

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

“honey, i’m home!” you hear a familiar voice call out.

you smile instantly, excited your favorite aussie chick was home. “hi bubba! i’m in the bedroom!” you call back, staring at the door in anticipation. you hear him place his things down before breaking into a sprint.

you hear his happy giggles as he makes his way down the hallway. the freckled boy appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath with a bright smile on his face. he takes in your appearance, you’re cuddled up in the middle of all his plushies, a big soft blanket swallowing you whole.

you looked so cozy.

you take your arms from under the fluffy fabric, stretching them

in front of you, making grabby hands towards him. he giggles as he runs to you, leaping on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as best he could.

you wrap your arms around him as he shoves his face into your neck, relaxing into you. “hi sweet boy.” you giggle, placing a kiss to his hair, leaning your head against his.

“hi angel.” he mumbled into your skin. your cheeks warm at the pet name, never getting used to him calling you them. you gently rub his back, softly running your nails against him, the fabric of his shirt acting as a layer between him and you.

he sighs against your skin, “that feels nice.” he mumbles, relaxing further into you. you slip your hands under his shirt, lightly rubbing and scratching his soft skin.

he nuzzles his head, a soft cat-like grin appears on his face, feeling content. “i love you so much.” you smile, wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer.

“i love you too, more than you know.” you kiss the side of his head before giving him a soft pat on his butt. “alright come pretty boy, let’s get you washed up.” he whines, tighten his arms around you.

“nooo i wanna cuddle.” you could practically hear the pout in his voice. you chuckle before patting it again, “and we can cuddle after, come on, let’s get you comfy. “fine.” he huffs, pushing himself up to straddle your hips before he stops and looks at you suspiciously.

“what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, placing your hands on his thighs. “where’s bbokari?” he huffs, folding his arms, pouting. you smile at him before you reach into your blanket, pulling out the (now flatten) yellow plushie.

“i was laying on her!!??” he exclaimed, grabbing the flat bbokari, fixing her. “what did you think you were laying?” you giggled at his frantic movements. “i just assumed it was the blanket!” he finally fixed the small chick, letting out a sigh of relief.

“see! look she looks good as new!” he gives you a side eye before giving the plush a kiss, moving off your lap. “yah! what am i getting the side eye for? i didn’t lay on her!” you sit up and watch as he squints, walking to the bathroom.

“yah! what the hell! felix!” you yell hearing his giggles from the other room. you get up to chase after him before helping him get comfy, spending the rest of the night, cuddled in bed watching his favorite show.

do not copy or repost

[evansbuck-ley]

the first halloween that buck and tommy’s son is old enough to go trick or treating he is insistent in keeping his costume secret - well secret from one parent bc someone needs to pay. and unfortunately for buck he is the parent that is kept out of the loop. and even more unfortunate for buck is that this is the year that he had to work Halloween, so tommy promises to bring henry to the firehouse before he takes him trick or treating.

halloween rolls around and buck is basically vibrating out of his skin bc he just got a text from tommy to tell him their are on the way and he is beyond excited to see his boys. and suddenly there comes the world smallest firefighter sprinting towards buck with tommy not too far behind trying his best to keep up. buck takes in the sight in front of him. bc henry could have dress up as Dracula or Spider-Man but no hes dressed as buck. from the plastic helmet that sat wonky on his head and had “118” scribbled on the front . to buckley-kinard that was neatly printed on the back on his jacket. all the way down to his little yellow rain boots poking out the bottom of his turnouts.

and from behind buck he could hear hen and eddie cooing at the sight of the boy and he could see chimney come to stand next to tommy to take a million pictures that he knows is being sent to maddie - because yes buck we need pictures of everything he does, we need to fill his baby box!

then henry is jumping up and down in front of him so excited and he’s rambling. look daddy I’m you. do you like it? papa said that you would love it. i’m going to be a firefighter when I grow up daddy. can we go see grampy bobby after papa? I want to show him. and god, he is buck’s double and buck just can’t hold it together anymore. he lets a tear slip down his cheek and he scoops the boy in his arms and holds him tight to his chest. and in his head he is thanking whatever god out there that gave him this.

this family. this love. his whole world.

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Summary: you reunite with an old friend while making a delivery for your shitty boyfriend

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut, throat fucking, weed, cheating, not proof read

A/n: I have no idea how much weed costed in 2003 bc I was two years old. Also, I apologize if your name is Chelsea bc you will be slandered in this fic. Thank you for reading! <3

Pt 2 , Pt 3

I slam my boyfriends shitty car door, stepping out into the cold November rain, running towards the brick house, an 8th of weed shoved in my bra. I can’t believe my idiot boyfriend is too lazy to get out of his car to make his delivery. I’ve never even met this customer and his dumbass is having me waltz right up this random man’s house, while he’s parked a block away.

I pound on the wooden door before stepping back a bit. I shift back and forth on my feet as I rub my hands up and down on my arms trying to warm myself with the friction. After a couple of minutes, the door swings open, a man with unkempt brown hair and tired eyes steps out, looking a bit surprised. Those eyes. I know them. I cant put my finger on it, but I know him from somewhere.

“Uhm can I help you? Are you alright?” he asks, stepping out onto the porch closing the door behind him, looking me up and down, maybe trying to figure out why some strange girl is stood sopping wet on his doorstep, or maybe he recognizes me as well.

“Of course that dumbass didn’t tell you,” I sigh. “I’m delivering for Dakota,” I explain, pulling the plastic baggie out of my bra.

“Ah, okay,” he opens the door again, ignoring my hand offering the weed. “Why don’t you come in, get out of the cold?” he offers, holding the door open for me. I consider his offer; He seems kind, and he doesn’t appear to have the money on him anyway. I might as well wait inside while he retrieves it before I catch my death out here.

“Thank you,” I smile, stepping into the warm living room, part of me hoping that Dakota can see me going into the random man’s house. He leads me down to the basement, explaining that this is his bedroom.

“Make yourself at home,” he smiles, showing two familiar dimples on either cheek as he gestures to his couch. I smile back, happily taking a seat. He walks into the bathroom, coming back with a towel in his hand.

“Did you go to Tates Creek Highschool by chance?” he asks, offering me the grey bath towel.

“I did,” I smile. “Only for freshman year though, my family moved the next county over after that,” I explain. That must be where I know him from.

“Y/n, I thought that was you,” he smiles taking a seat next to me.

“Yeah,” I smile back. “You look familiar, but I’m sorry I can’t remember your name,” I blush, a bit embarrassed that I don’t remember him.

“Ouch,” He chuckles. “I thought getting detention together for stealing the teachers’ cigarettes would have been a bit more memorable,” he says, leaning back on the couch. Then it dawns on me.

“Warren?” I ask, shocked. “Little Warren Lipka?” I turn on the couch to face him, getting a better look- the best look I can get in the dim yellow lighting. I don’t believe it! He laughs at my reaction.

“I guess if you remember me as little Warren, I can see why you didn’t recognize me,” he says, reaching for his grinder and papers laying on the coffee table. “You got that 8th, beautiful?” he asks casually. I blush at the comment, pulling the weed out of my bra once again. I hand him the warm baggie.

“That’ll be 7 bucks, sir,” I grin. All the memories come flooding back to me when our hands touch as we exchange the substance for the cash. All the classes we skipped together, all the many hours in detention we spent alongside each other, the cigarettes that we would smoke under the bleachers. He was shorter than me then, he always had his hair buzzed and wore oversized clothes to hide his small frame. I guess he was a late bloomer, because the only remnants of that little boy are the deep brown eyes and dimples displayed like artwork on the handsome grown man in front of me.

“You look really good,” he breaks me out of my thoughts, sparking the joint he’s just rolled.

“Thank you,” I smile. He passes me the paper. I take a hit. “You look good yourself,” I exhale through my nose, handing the joint back to warren.

“So you’re a friend of Dakotas?” He asks, after sucking in a breath of smoke as he stretches his arm over the back of the couch and behind my shoulders.

“His girlfriend, actually,” My response catches him off guard, making him choke on the smoke.

“Holy shit,” he laughs in between coughs. “How the hell did that goon bag you?” he asks, flabbergasted. I can’t help but giggle, taking another drag off the joint.

“Sometimes I wonder the same thing,” I answer honestly. Dakota isn’t exactly the best boyfriend in the world. We’ve been dating almost two years and I’ve caught him with other girls multiple times. He doesn’t respect my boundaries or my aspirations, yet somehow, he always convinces me to stay. I guess when you’re as attractive as he is and as insecure as I am, it isn’t hard for him to convince me that he’s the best I’ll ever have.

“So what’s wrong with Dakota? Why couldn’t he make the delivery himself?” Warren asks, looking down at the joint between his lips as it glows crimson. “Not that I’m complaining,” he clarifies.

“He said he was tired and didn’t want to get his shoes wet,” I laugh, feeling the THC start to take effect. “Can you believe that?” I ask, laying a hand on warrens thigh in my fit of giggles. “He’s just sitting in his shit box a block away,” I say, feeling my eyelids begin to get heavy. Warren raises his eyebrows, looking at me with glossy eyes.

“Wow,” he scoffs. “I actually don’t believe that. I couldn’t imagine having your girl make deliveries for you. Thats some serious pussy shit,” he rolls his eyes, holding the joint up to my mouth. I take a hit from the hot paper between his fingers. I look down at the spliff, then back at him to find his eyes already fixed on me. “If I was your boyfriend, I wouldn’t let you make deliveries for me,” he says in a much quieter tone, the moment is almost intimate as I blow the smoke into his face that’s closer to mine than I realized, but I can’t bring myself to back away. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t want you smoking with me,” he adds, bringing the joint to his lips to take the final hit.

“Why’s that?” I ask in a whisper with butterflies in my stomach, breathing in the smoke that’s slowly rolling off his lips.

“Because it gives me the opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do since freshman year,” he matches my tone, glancing at my lips, bringing his finger and thumb around my chin, tilting my head up towards him. My heart begins to race at his proximity, I know I should pull away from him, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Just as his lips barely brush against mine, my Nokia rings out, sounding like an alarm, making me jump in surprise, scrabbling to find the small cellphone on the couch.

“Hey babe,” Warren answers the phone, winking at me. My stomach drops. Fuck. I reach for the phone, but warren stands up. “Nah man she’s good she’s right here. I just gave her the mon- hey. Hey!” I hear warren begin to shout. I cease my struggle to grab the phone. “Is there a fucking problem man?” Warren seethes into the phone. I hear my boyfriend’s muffled speech. “Yeah, I didn’t fuckin think so,” he hangs up the phone, handing the small plastic brick to me.

“You look pretty stoned,” he says picking up a coat off the couch, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Let me walk you out. You remember where his car is?” he asks, putting his hand on the small of my back, ushering me to the steps. I nod my head yes, staring at him with wide eyes trying to process what just happened.

“Lead the way then, beautiful,” he grins, and just like that, the butterflies are back. I don’t dare respond, not knowing what will come out of my mouth.

The walk to Dakota’s car is silent but comfortable, still pretty baked, I feel the rain coming down in sheets. vibrating calmly in my bones. I stare up at the orange glow of the streetlights in the night sky in awe. Everything looks so beautiful when you’re high.

“Here he is,” Warren says approaching the small rust bucket of a car that my boyfriend drives. He opens the passenger door for me. After I’m seated, he leans in to look at Dakota. “Don’t have your girl make trips for you anymore, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says calmly but it comes across like a threat, before tossing a couple folded bills at Dakota and closing the door. I’m glad he remembered the money. Dakota would have killed me if I had left it down there.

 My boyfriend is quiet. Much more quiet than he normally is when someone threatens his masculinity. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s scarred of Warren.

As Dakota pulls off, his Insane Clown Posse CD playing quietly, I look out the side mirror to see warren standing with his hands in his pockets, getting soaked in the rain in nothing other than his t-shirt and jeans, watching me ride away. As Dakota begins to bitch and complain my ear, all I can think about is when ill see Warren again, then I remember; I have his coat. It would be rude of me to keep it. I’ll just have to return it to him.

•

•

It’s been a week since my interaction with Warren, and I can’t stop thinking about him.

‘Is it so wrong that I want to catch up with an old friend?’ I ask myself. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with visiting a friend, the issue lies in the fact that the thoughts I’m having of him aren’t exactly platonic.

‘I’ll just drop his coat off, thanking him for the kind gesture and be on my way.’ I tell myself as I climb into my car. ‘Okay, maybe I could make some small talk with him, that’s innocent enough. Yeah, ill ask him about his job, if he’s going to school now, stuff like that’ I manage to convince myself that this will be a short, polite visit with an old friend, but a part of me must know the truth because I tell Dakota that I’m going out with my mother for lunch.

I park my vehicle on a side street near the Lipka house, just in case Dakota drives down here for whatever reason. I grab Warrens coat and walk up to the porch.

‘Maybe he’s not home and I’ll just hand it to his parents,’ I think as I knock on the door. The thought disappoints me, but maybe it’s for the b-

“Y/n!” Warren exclaims as the door swings open. “What a pleasant surprise,” he crunches on a Cheeto, crinkling the bag as he folds it shut.

“Hey Warren,” I smile at the man standing in front of me while he licks the Cheeto dust off his fingers.

“Come in, its freezing,” he steps aside so I can enter. I frown a bit.

“Well, actually I’m just here to return your coat,” I hold out the slick material.

“How kind,” he flashes his dimples. “Are you in a rush?” He asks as he retrieves his jacket.

“Well, no…” I trail off, trying to think of an excuse, but its hard to excuse yourself from something you want more than anything else.

“Then come inside real quick, darling, just to warm up,” he winks at me and I cant help but giggle. I surrender, stepping into his warm home once again,and following him down to his room.

I sit down on his couch as Invader Zim plays on his box tv.

“This may be a bold assumption,” Warren starts as he sits down on the cushion next to me. “But I think you may have come back for something more than the raincoat,” he suggests, looking into my eyes.

“Warren-“ I begin, but I don’t know what to say. He’s right. I want to desperately finish what we almost started last week. Just the faint brushing of his lips against mine has made me feel something I’ve never experienced before. I need to feel him-

“Free weed, right?” He grins picking up the rolling tray.

Oh.

 I can’t help but blush. I thought for a moment that Warren had already forgotten about our last encounter, but the wink he sends my way suggests that he meant exactly what I thought he meant.

“It’s not often that I don’t have to match,” I admit, pulling my legs up to my chest.

“You mean with friends, right?” Warren asks before he licks the thin rolling paper, holding my gaze as his tongue slowly slides across the wrap.

“Uh,” my breath hitches in my throat. Damn he looks so good. I’ve never wanted to be a rolling paper so bad in my life. “No, I mean in general. Dakota says he’s, uhm, running a business. So I have to pay or match what I smoke every time we, uh, spark. Or else I’m stealing from him,” I mutter out. Warren smirks at the pink raising in my cheeks once again. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Thank God he can’t see the pool forming in my underwear.

“No offense y/n,” he sparks the joint, inhaling a hit of hot smoke. “But Dakotas pathetic,” he breaths out.

“None taken,” I laugh as I take the paper from his hand.

“I mean for more than just the way he treats you,” he explains as I pass the joint back to him. “I’ve known him for a while. We met through a mutual friend, a few years ago. Started smoking together, then started dealing together and breaking into the chain stores around here, ya know, the ones that just throw shit away while people are starving,” he begins to explain as he sinks into the couch, leaning his head back, blowing a cloud of smoke towards the drop ceiling tiles of his bedroom. I stare at him, taking another hit, hanging on to his every word. I could listen to his voice all day. “Soon he started shorting people on weed, over charging behind my back, he was jealous of how well I was doing, always trying to one up me, bragging about how he’s making more money than me, not caring how he achieved it. Then one night, he decided he was going to try and break into a store by himself, of course he chose the corner store down the street, the one owned by the little old lady,” he chuckles. “I beat the shit out of him as soon as I found out,” he takes a hit. “Pussy didn’t throw a single punch back. Just curled up on the ground. Worst part is; he didn’t even get anything. She chased him off with a broom,” he runs a hand through his long brown hair, finally looking at me as he hands me the spliff.

“Wow, I guess that’s why he seemed so scared the other day,” I giggle. I should feel bad, this guy just told me he beat my boyfriend up, but I almost want to thank him.

“That’s also why I get a discount,” he grins as smoke rolls out of his nostrils. “But for once,” he leans in closer to me. “I’m jealous of him,” I can feel his breath on my face. “Seeing you ride off in that car with him last week was painful to watch. You should have been right here with me,” he pushes a loose strand of hair out of my face, and I melt into his touch.

“Well,” I take in a shaky breath, unable to resist those coffee-colored eyes. “I’m here now, Warren.” And with that, the world ceases to spin as he crashes his lips into mine. I’m suddenly aware of my quick heartbeat, every ounce of blood flowing throw my veins, the electricity that shoots from Warrens hands into my body. The smell of smoke on his breath and the slightly stale air in the basement invades my senses. The kiss is desperate and hungry; something I haven’t felt in years. I moan into his mouth as he pulls me into his lap to straddle him.

“This is wrong, Warren,” I pull away reluctantly.

“No beautiful, it was wrong when he called me asking for Chelsea’s contact last month,” he pants. The mention of that whores name makes my blood boil. She’s his most recent side piece. “Had I known he was with you, I would have beat his ass again instead of sending it,” he says honestly, as his hand runs gently up my hip. My mind is made up in an instant. I take the joint out of his hand, inhaling one last hit before I set it in the ash tray. I slide down to the floor on my knees in between his legs before I take my sweater off, tossing it to the side.

“You’re right,” I grin as I reach for his buckle. The pop of the metal releasing ringing through my ears as I shimmy the jeans off his body. I look up at Warren through my lashes, his eyes wide staring down at me with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. The sight makes my core tingle.

“May I?” I ask palming him through his plaid boxers, feeling his dick stiffen under my touch.

“I insist,” he grins, helping me slide the boxers off. My eyes widen at his length in front of me. He’s perfect. I take him into my hand, holding his gaze as I let spit drip from my kiss bruised lips onto his tip, allowing me to stroke him easier. He curses under his breath as I move my hand up and down his now rock hard dick. I smile to myself before wrapping my mouth around his tip, slowly moving down his length until he hits the back of my throat, then I hollow out my cheeks, as I begin to bob up and down. Warren lifts his head to take in the sight below him. He rests a gentle hand on the back of my head.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he groans, instinctively moving his hips in rhythm with my head. I hum in response as I bring my other hand underneath his length to massage his balls, earning a low moan from him.

Soon he takes over, holding my head as he thrusts into my mouth. I push him in as far as possible, gagging on his length. He stands up so he can properly fuck my throat. This isn’t something that I normally do, I never allow Dakota to use me like this. But right now, I think I would let warren do absolutely anything he desires, and I would enjoy every second of it. This is the first time I’ve ever been so turned on from pleasing someone else. My underwear is soaked my arousal and he’s barely touched me. The praise and moans coming from Warren is enough to get me off. The way his eyes peer into mine as he violates my throat, bringing a gentle thumb up to wipe the tears that creep out of my eyes makes my heart flutter.

“Come here baby,” Warren pulls out of my mouth, I gasp for air as he picks my up to carry me to his bed. He pulls his shirt over his head and asks permission to pull my pants off. I nod quickly, earning a chuckle from him. “You did so good for me,” he lays a kiss on my forehead, using his shirt to wipe the tears and spit from my face, I smile at the sweet gesture. He pulls me into a kiss after climbing on top of me, both of us now completely naked. Warrens hand wonders down to my heat, dipping a finger into my entrance, I whimper at the contact. “You really got off to me fucking your throat, huh?” He smiles against my lips, feeling how wet I am for him.

“Please just fuck me Warren,” I beg. He smirks as he lines himself up with me.

“You ready, beautiful?” He asks. I nod, impatiently scooting closer to him, begging for contact. He chuckles as he slowly pushes into me. Being stretched out has never felt so good. There’s almost no pain as I easily take him, a loud moan escapes my lips

“Shh,” he smirks as he continues to push into me, stifling his own moans. “My folks are upstairs baby, not so loud,” he explains.

“I’m sorry,” I giggle. “You just feel so fucking go-“ I cut myself off with another loud moan as he begins rocking his hips at a steady pace. I clamp my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. Warren looks down at me as he he pounds into me, a hand reaching down to hold my breast’s that are moving in rhythm with his hips.

“God, you’re so stunning,” he praises as he uses his other hand to push his curls out of his face. The sight of Warren on top of me is something that I never want to forget. If this is the last time he has his way with me, I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. His hungry eyes that take the time to admire every inch of my body. The way his hair bounces as his cock pounds deeper inside me than anyone has ever been.

Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as he lays down beside me.

“Come here darling,” he rests his back on the head board as he pulls me on top of him. “I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me baby,” he asks as he lays sloppy kisses on my neck. I giggle in response as I straddle him, happily allowing him to fill me once again. I let out a moan of relief as that void in my stomach is satisfied.

“Fuck,” Warren grunts. “You take me so well, beautiful,” he whispers as I bounce up and down on his cock. I lean forward to kiss him, muffling the moans coming from both of us. I move my hips in unison with his as his hand grips onto my ass spreading me open so he can pound as deep in me as possible. Im positive he’s leaving fingernail makes in the soft skin, but I don’t dare stop him. Warren reaches a finger down to rub circles on my clit, giving me just what I need to approach my release.

“Fuck,” I moan into our desperate, wet kiss. “Just like that Warren please,” I beg. Feeling my body heat up and my swollen cunt begin to throb. As Warren thrusts exactly where I need him, I come undone around him as I erupt in a fit of moans and praises. The euphoria quickly filling my body as my release drips onto Warrens twitching dick. He quickly throws me off of him, cum shooting up onto my chest and on to his stomach. I swiftly dip my head down, bringing him into my mouth to milk every last drop out of him.

“Fuck y/n!” He moans in surprise. Now it’s his turn to cover his mouth as he rides out his orgasm. I pull away to lay next to Warren, our chests heaving in unison.

“Holly shit,” he laughs after few minutes of comfortable silence. “That was…you were…wow,” he turns his head to smile at me, already looking at him.

“I can say the same to you,” I giggle, running my hand over his chest. He brings me in for one last kiss, this one gentle and kind.

“You can use my shower if you’d like, I’ve made quite the mess of you,” he smirks.

“Thank you,” I smile standing up. “Uhm, we’re definitely not going to tell Dakota about this, right?” I ask, suddenly feeling… not guilty… but nervous and almost excited in a strange way.

“My lips are sealed, beautiful,” he winks, taking my hand to guide me to his bathroom.

[sexlapis]

yn and toji filming a buzzfeed puppies interview together then getting a question about if they would adopt a dog together 🎀🎀🎀

TOJI FUSHIGURO & Y/N + PUPPIES

⤷ cw: fluff, short fic, cute puppies, toji & yn haven’t exactly gone public but everyone basically knows they’re together 💀

a/n: needed to make this a whole thing bc i love this idea sm 🤭

INTRO

“oh my god!” you squeal as the crew members release six fluffy, tiny golden retriever puppies to where you and toji sit. the puppies immediately run over to both of you, and begin licking all over you knees and hands.

“hey, little guy..” toji coos and gently lifts the dog in his hands, practically dwarfing the small animal in the size of them. “such a little squirt, huh?”

you on the other hand, now have three bundles of pale yellow fluff bundled up in your arms, cradling them like they’re your children. “oh my god, oh my god. they’re all coming home with me, i’ll make it happen somehow.”

IF YOU WERE AN ANIMAL, WHAT ANIMAL WOULD YOU BE?

“easy.” toji begins, smirking. “i’d be a wolf. i-”

in the midst of rubbing the belly of one of the puppies, you snort harshly at his answer, pulling you lips together.

toji drops the smirk and looks at you while he rocks two puppies in crook of his big arms. “what’s funny?”

“toji…you? a wolf? i don’t think so..”

toji scoffs. “what’d you think i’d be then?”

“hmm.. i think.. i think you’d be a chipmunk.”

“chipmunk?!” toji exclaims. “no way!”

you hold one of the puppies up to your face, speaking in a baby voice. “toji would be a chipmunk, wouldn’t he? yes he would! yes he would!”

“i would- you know what you would be?” he starts and you know he’s probably going to say something crazy. “you’d be a pterodactyl.”

“a what!” you cackle, dropping your head onto the floor and laying on your stomach. some of the puppies start climbing on your back. “what the hell would i be a dinosaur?”

he puts one of the puppies on the ground and it rests on his shoe. “pterodactyls ain’t dinosaur actually-”

“ok, toji the palaeontologist, why the hell would be a pterodactyl?”

toji shrug, nuzzling the puppy in his arm. “y’know.. they’re loud..and they got big mouths.”

you gasp. “that is-” you puff your cheeks and start throwing the squeaky toys at him aggressively.

“hey! stop!”

IF YOU COULD ACT WITH ANY ACTOR, WHO WOULD IT BE?

“oh, definitely mikasa ackerman.” you answer. “she’s so talented and sweet.” you bounce the puppy in your arms, one who seems to especially love you and toji. “she’s so sweet! yes she is!”

“yeah i’ve heard good things about her..” toji said. “‘think my choice would be..nanami kento. he’s done good work..seems respectable.”

“wow, really? you’d both hate each other.”

“_____, why are you so negative?” toji asks, faking seriousness. “we would get along. don’t be jealous.”

“jealous?!”

“yeah, jealous,” toji picks up the smallest puppy and it to his chest, stroking its head, “ain’t that right? she’s jealous, right?” he shakes his head at you while shaking the head of the puppy with his hand. “she’s so- oh, that one’s taking a shit on the floor.”

you turn and there it was, a tiny puppy, in toji’s words, taking a shit.

“ew.. i forgot they just did that…”

when the puppy finishes it’s…business, the other puppies run over and start sniffing it.

“oh fuck, they’re about to eat his fucking shit.” toji wheezes, shoulders bouncing m. “their faces just make you forget how fucking disgusting they are..”

“eugh, they’re so nastyy.” you cringe at them, cooing at the puppy in your lap. “but you’re not like they are you?”

WOULD YOU ADOPT A PUPPY TOGETHER?

“yes! yes we would!” you rest the female puppy in your arms. “wouldn’t we, toji?”

toji looks at you, admiring how adorable you look with the adorable, little puppy in your arms. he looks back to the puppies in his arms and lap. “‘couldn’t hurt..”

you shout happily. “toji, we’re taking this one home.” you lift the puppy in your hands to the sky like she’s simba. you look off camera. “can we take this one home? please?”

at the end of the video, you’re hugging toji along with the other puppies. “you’re all coming home with me!”

toji looks to the camera for help

(and that’s how you both end up with 6 golden retriever puppies for pets :))

[salaimoi]

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 — 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔] after his wife’s death, you became toji fushiguro’s only reliant shoulder. however, unbeknownst to you, your deceased friend’s ex-husband had ulterior motives in mind when he began to pursue you.

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆] angst

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒘𝒄] 2.k

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔] yellow is reader’s pov, blue is toji’s pov. it might sound repetitive and rushed bc i just wanted to get this out of my drafts. i know billie’s song came out like ages ago so it wouldn’t make sense to release this any later than it already is

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart. I wasn't there, but I know.

toji always reassured you a million times; he wasn’t heartbroken over his split with his ex-wife, not in the slightest. he rarely opened up about his past, let alone his previous relationships. and yet, deep down, you knew he hadn’t properly processed their rupture.

the most he ever disclosed to you was the fact that there was nothing left to salvage in his old relationship — so he moved on, and so did she. 

but was that the entire truth? 

you noticed the prolonged glances he would take when opening his wallet. the empty look behind his eyes when he stared down at his naked ring finger. even the faint sniffling at night that he tried convincing you were nothing more than allergies. but you knew he was silently mourning her. 

her – the real love of his life.

She was my girl. I showed her the world, but fell out of love and we both let go. ⋆࿐

i made it my life goal to tend to her happiness. the only reason for my very existence was to see that she had everything she could ever want. hell, that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.

i never kept anything from her — except my line of work. i couldn’t bring myself to tell her the man she fell in love with was a deadbeat mercenary who bathed in the blood of others for a living. as much as i tried to protect her from that side of my life, she eventually went digging her nose where it wasn’t needed. 

the aftermath of her discovering the truth about my hidden agenda came at the price of our relationship. 

she couldn’t withstand the constant pain of being by my side any longer, to turn in bed only to see a bastard by her side. she wholeheartedly believed that the man that now stood before her was no longer the one she fell in love with. 

somehow i didn’t blame her.

She was cryin’ on my shoulder. All I could do was hold her.

i still remember it so vividly — how her body trembled against mine like a leaf. tears coursed down her cheeks as she clung to me like a lifeline, seeking comfort in the midst of her anguish. as selfish as it may sound, the weight of her sorrow became almost too much to bear. 

i couldn't offer excuses or apologies; these were empty gestures that wouldn't alleviate the agony she felt at that moment. instead, i stood there, silently holding her, offering my presence as the only comfort.

the guilt washed over me in waves as i cradled her, feeling her heart shatter a little more with each sob. i knew i was the cause of her pain, yet i couldn’t tell her the whole truth. all i could do was hold her, wishing i could undo the past.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Only made us closer until July.

the moment he began pursuing you when enough time had gone by, it immediately felt wrong. he was your friend’s ex-husband, after all. toji had never looked at you twice before, and now, he suddenly had lustful eyes for you? 

you eventually conceded because you wanted to be there for him, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he had no ulterior motives. but one way or another, every conversation at dinner circled back to her. 

“oh she loved mashed potatoes.” 

“fun fact, she had a strawberry allergy.” 

“did you know this brand of vanilla ice cream was her favorite?”

and as much as it pained you, you became a reliant ear for him — someone who would listen to all the little details he swore he had forgotten the day she divorced him. even if every bone in your body wanted to run in the opposite direction, far, far away from him, you stayed. 

maybe all he needs is time, you told yourself.

right?

Now I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? ⋆࿐

your affection always remained a constant in my turbulent world, like a gentle rain that falls softly even amidst the storm. but the longer the internal storm went on, the more ravenous the regret and guilt raged on. i found myself unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for me, but deep down, i knew that your love was unwavering. 

i knew that in order to truly move on, i had to let go of the past and embrace the present; you represented that fresh start i so urgently needed. but the thought of her still lingered, a constant reminder of what once was but should no longer be. it was as if i was being consumed by my own memories, unable to break free. as if a part of me still longed for the past. 

the weight of my conflicting emotions burdened my every waking moment, leading me to push you away with no explanation. feelings for the both of you coexisted, and i couldn't fully commit to one without betraying the other. every time i looked at you, guilt would wash over me for putting you through this hell.

 likewise, every time i looked at her picture, i felt like a traitor for ever moving on as soon as i did.

But I see her in the back of my mind all the time. Just like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign. ⋆࿐

beneath the mask of indifference, i was plagued by shame. it was hard to accept that the girl who once consumed my thoughts was no longer part of my life, and looking at you, i realized that your love knew no bounds; that wasn’t enough for me. 

i hadn’t stopped loving her. 

it felt like a fever that never broke. an unrelenting heat that burned deep inside me, reminding me of the girl who dwelled in the back of my mind all those years ago.

every word about my past, every little detail about my ex, felt like a confession at church – a church where my sins would be revealed to the world. 

talking about my past wouldn’t magically absolve me of my past, now would it? redemption was never an option for me, and i wasn’t asking for it. instead of trying to cleanse myself of my history, i decided to leave it all behind like a forgotten box in an attic. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Well, good things don't last, and life moves so fast. I'd never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me.

he told you to let it go — to let it die like she did that fateful day. it was no use keeping her memory alive, he said, but if that was the case, why did he take her last name months later? 

not to mention they spent years together — even conceived a child together; a child he named after her, but that detail never seemed to make its way to you. 

everyone told you to stop comparing yourself, but how could you not? she was everything you weren’t even after death: soft spoken, graceful, gentle, patient, loving. 

you didn’t dare ask such a redundant question so you didn’t voice it, but your continuous comparison to her was eating you alive; toji noticed it. you hadn’t slept with him in almost a month, internally afraid he’ll blurt out her name instead of yours.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 And I know that you love me. you don't need to remind me.

he went out of his way to send more ‘i love u’ messages than before; they seemed forced, just like your relationship. 

she had previously informed you of things that found their way to the most profound recesses of your mind. you didn’t flinch at the time, because you were mesmerized that he did such things for her, but it affected you later on. 

you learned bitter truths that made you doubt his love for you. and when you finally realized he didn’t do any of the things she spoke of, it dawned on you; toji didn’t love you. 

not like he loved her. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 You say no one knows you so well but every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt.

you’d stay up late at night countless times wondering what toji’s affectionate touch actually felt like. it was something only she ever knew, and you’d do anything to get a semblance of that feeling. 

but it was obvious no one knows the real him — not like she did.

despite everything, you decided to give this relationship one last try by booking a hotel for the both of you. everything inside you screamed that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.

and he finally did it. he mistakenly blurted out her name on the most romantic day of the year. 

“i-i’m sorry.” toji rushed to apologize, grabbing a hold of your arm so you wouldn’t walk out the door.

“I wonder, do you see HER in the back of your mind, in my eyes!?” was the only thing you could force yourself to reply in that moment, breaking away from his grip in the process.  

“i do,” toji dejectedly admits with a hint of sorrow behind his voice. or was it indignity?

he pauses, absentmindedly digging his nails into the tender flesh of his balled up fist as he grapples with his conscience. all along, he knew the day to finally hold himself accountable would come, but he didn’t think it would’ve been like this. 

his mind involuntarily wandered, and in the depths of your gaze, he saw glimpses of his deceased wife — a ghost that lingered in the back of his subconscious even after all this time.  

memories of her flood his mind, and for a brief moment, the both of you merge into one — his past and present colliding into one. the familiar shade of your irises, the identical shine behind them, the bright glimmer of light behind them when you smiled — all of it brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia to him. 

silence overtook the room like a storm, and with it, your heart. so he does see a reflection of his dead wife when he stares into your eyes — the eyes he promised captivated him to no bounds. 

“was all of it a lie, then?” 

“no.” 

“how was it not a lie, toji?”

“it wasn’t a lie, doll-“ 

“don’t call me that.” you interrupt him with words almost sharp enough to cut him, a slight tremble behind your voice. 

tears immediately welled up in the delicate corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. his expression softened at the sight; however, his reluctance to approach you remained. he knew he was the reason behind your hurt, just like he was the cause of hers all that time ago. history does indeed repeat itself, doesn’t it? 

he wished he could find the words that would help ease your pain — the exhaustion and heartache you felt. to take it all away with a mere sentence, that would be quite incredible. but that’s not how life works.

“okay.” he finally whispered, inhaling a deep breath in a mix of defeat and remorse before continuing. “i promise none of it was a lie; i meant every word. i really meant it when i said i adored your eyes…” 

he dry swallows a couple of times, as if doing so would suppress the sorrow lodged in his throat. his eyes darted around the room, as to not meet your own out of the unbearable guilt that simply refused to be consumed. 

the hesitation behind his subtle actions was a telltale that there was a ‘but’ hidden underneath the surface-level flattery. and with an equal amount of incertitude and delay behind your own words, alongside with a hoarse voice, you brace yourself for the moment he finally admits this so-called love of yours was nothing but an illusion.

“but?” 

“…but they’re not her eyes.” 

[sanguineterrain]

Mark Grayson x reader where reader is smitten as hell and just loves giving him a kiss wherever on his face when they get a chance to bc that boy deserves it and deserves nice things- < / 3

short but sweet! this was a lovely prompt - he IS the goodest boy and he DOES deserve nice things. need to chew him like a dog toy, frankly.

mark grayson x gn!reader. fluff, established relationship, physical affection, mark getting loved on the way god intended!!!!!

****

Out of the corner of your eye, you see blue and yellow. Your window latch creaks, and you stand.

The sound elicits a Pavlovian response in you. Ever since you and Mark started dating, he's taken to landing on your roof and climbing through your window instead of going through the hassle of using the door. And as soon as you hear the latch, you're up, body already thrumming with anticipation at seeing your boyfriend.

Sure enough, Mark's crouched outside your window, purposely being slow in his movements so as not to startle you. He pushes your window open.

His hair is fluffy from the wind. He pulls his goggles up over his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. The sight overwhelms you, and you can't wait past him climbing inside.

You're on him as soon as Mark steps inside, cutting off his "hey, baby" with a solid kiss.

"Mmph!" he exclaims as you grab his face and first kiss his mouth, putting your all into it.

His hands land on your waist after several dazed seconds, and he's pliant as you wrap your arms around him and scratch the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

You pull back for a hot second, just long enough to see how Mark's eyes have glazed over. He often gets like that when you pet and touch him. You suspect it's because he's not used to it, all this physical affection.

You immediately go back in with more kisses, peppering them all over his face. Mark lets you back him against the wall, and you kiss his cheeks, his eyelids, his chin, and his forehead.

"Wha'... what's this for?" he asks after a minute, puppy-eyed as you lavish him with attention.

"'Cause I wanna love on you," you say. "Missed you."

"I was only gone a day."

You hug him hard because you can, because he can take it. Mark squeezes you back gently, practically glowing from the affection.

"Just get really happy when I see you," you say, unable to fit your elation into words. 'Happy' is an understatement of what you're feeling. But Mark seems to understand.

He laughs quietly. "I really missed you too. You're always so sweet to me."

"Because you deserve sweetness," you say, and kiss him on the lips again. "You get all the sweetness in the world, Mark."

He swallows, opening and closing his mouth like you've overwhelmed him. You nip at his jawbone to let him know that it's okay. That he doesn't have to muster up a reply.

"Can we, uh..." Mark clears his throat. "Can we just... cuddle for a while? Is that okay?"

You beam. "Of course it is. I'll always curl up with you, babylove."

The name makes Mark shy. He chews the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking at you.

"'Kay. Be right back."

You get comfortable in bed as Mark takes the sweats he left in your drawer last night and changes, taking less than five seconds to do so. He crawls into bed, limbs heavy with exhaustion and your onslaught of affection.

You lie there and let Mark pick a position. He settles on throwing a leg over you and hugging you with his whole body, head tucked under your chin. You turn into him, hand returning to scratch his scalp.

"Thank you for loving on me. And taking care of me," he says, breathing evening out.

"No thanks necessary," you say, kissing his hair. "'S what I'm here for."

[idyllcy]

childhood best friend!Simon Riley bc. just bc.

cbf!simon riley who you've known as your neighbour since forever — walking home with him in primary, working through homework in secondary, watching as he tells you he's off to the military with little to remember him by outside when you choose higher education

cbf!simon riley who pinched your cheek in primary and never lost the habit, leaning back with each hug to pinch your cheek gently and smile at your huffing as you roll your eyes whenever you meet up

cbf!simon riley who has flowers sent to your place every birthday because you mentioned it once back in secondary, writing back to your letters while away in the few moments of rest he has, yellow roses with scattered white and pink, eventually leading to a more red-heavy bouquet over the years, handwriting something only you find legible when you slice open the mail

cbf!simon riley who insists on crashing your place when he's back because "closer" and "comfier" while you kick at him to tell him to at least shower before crashing the guest room that's long been his only

cbf!simon riley who cooks when he's back, up earlier than you are anyway so he might as well, right, luvie? Hope you don't mind. You're too tired for it anyway

cbf!simon riley who remembers everything you've said in passing. collecting empty bottles. liking having something to bite and chew. liking those specific brand of lollies. your favorite flavor of cough drop. anything you've ever loved, simon knows

cbf!simon riley who does a horrible job at hiding that he likes you, but it doesn't seem you mind at all, bringing back his favorite dish when you go without asking, everything that he has ever liked memorized by you because you love him too

"Brought home dinner!" You call. "I know you didn't start cooking yet."

"How'd you know?" He loosens the apron around his waist, hanging it up as you unpack the takeout.

"You start cooking around this time, and since I haven't gotten home yet, you'd probably wait to ask me what I want since you didn't text."

"'m that easy t' read?"

"No. Just noticed." You crack open the plastic as he settles down next to you on the island, and you place his preferred dish closer to him as you hand him a cap to eat from, humming as you start serving yourself.

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing. Just wanted takeout." You grin, starting with the food. "Thank you for the flowers too, by the way."

"Mhm."

"You wanna tell me something about all the pink that was there instead of the yellow?"

"Don't know what yer talkin' 'bout." He avoids your eyes, staring to the side as you glance at the pink on his ears.

"Not gonna confess your undying love to me?"

"Ya wish."

You sigh dramatically, going back to your food with a pout.

Simon glances at you as you completely zone in on the food. He can do a better confession than just flowers.

You deserve a better one anyway.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

epilogue:

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of abortion.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: writing endings suck by the way. hope u enjoy tho :)

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by haileybieber, gigihadid, nickharris_img and 789,101 others

madisonhughes one year ago i married my best friend. i love u _quinnhughes 🤍

View all 1,398 comments

user1 i still remember the fuss we made the day she changed her username to hughes 😭

user2 user1 no bc u just had to be there 😭 everyone freaking out and people asking if her wedding had been live-streamed

user3 user1 user2 omg and people trying to cancel her for changing her last name?? i was on twitter fighting for my life

user4 user3 AND THE DAY AFTER QUINN POSTED A PICTURE OF HER WEARING HIS JERSEY DURING THEIR HONEYMOON LMFAO

_quinnhughes Pretty sure i love you more

nickharris_img my favorite couple. Miss you Mads

user6 the day i had to change my @ bc i couldn’t be quinnybear43wife anymore 💔

haileybieber it was magical 🥹

canucks One year already? 😱

jackhughes best night of my life… got drunk after 3 minutes

౨ৎ

2034, OCTOBER.

YOU HAD just turned the cell phone off when you heard Lila’s first scream.

Out of your instinct, you quickly walked towards her bedroom, knowing that she would be there with Quinn, since there was where you left both of them before you answered Jim’s call, asking about what time you were planning on going to their house, where they’d hold a Halloween welcoming party, since you and Quinn had just bought them a house in Vancouver.

Ever since your daughter, Lila, was born, three years ago, they’d been traveling to Vancouver every other week, and even though they told you several times that they didn’t mind all the flying and the hotels, you and Quinn both decided that it’d be best for them to at least have a private place to stay whenever they wanted to visit their granddaughter.

And Lila, the always calm, adorable baby, had been laughing with Quinn before you left the room, so her crying now was worrying to say the least. As you got closer to her bedroom, the crying got louder and louder, and you were pretty much sure neither Quinn nor Lila heard you entering the room.

“Tell Daddy what’s wrong, baby,” Quinn’s sitting on the floor, his hands wiping Lila’s tears, uselessly. “I’ll fix it, I promise,”

“No princess!” She yells back at him, throwing the yellow Belle dress you bought for her last week, making you frown as you lean against the door, choosing to let Quinn deal with her before you stepped in.

Bella stares at her, hiding her nose between her paws, which distracts you momentarily.

“Lila, baby. What did we say about yelling?” He asks softly, blue eyes searching for Lila’s. “There’s no need to yell. Daddy just wants to understand why you’re so upset since you wanted to be Belle so bad. What happened?”

Somehow, his question only seems to upset her even more. “No want. Belle.”

He chuckles, moving her chestnut hair out of her cherubic face.

“I can see that. And I want to know why. Do you remember how Mommy is always telling you that we need to explain why we’re upset? She’s right, baby.”

“Mhm,” she nods her head, scratching her eye with her left hand. “Mommy’s right.”

“Mommy is always right, isn’t she?” Quinn jokes, making you smile.

You decide that it’s the right time for you to step in, since Quinn already calmed Lila down and you wouldn’t get in his way of teaching her manners.

Walking until you were in the middle of the room, you smiled at them before you sat down on the carpet, beside Quinn.

“Is everything okay here?” You softly ask, giving Lila a brief kiss on her cheek, before doing the same with Quinn, making him smile right back at you.

“Lila’s upset about her costume,” Quinn explains. “She doesn’t want to be Belle.”

“No Belle!” She says loudly again, stomping her little feet. You had to use all of your strength to not coo at her cuteness.

“Okay, baby. We understand, you don't want to be Belle. Want to tell mommy and daddy why is that?”

Lila sighs loudly, her face still red from all the crying, proceeding to point at Quinn.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, baby, that’s daddy,” you chuckle. “What about daddy?”

“Wanna be d-daddy.” She stutters, hiccuping right after.

You and Quinn stare at each other, confused, before realization hits you both.

“She wants to be you for Halloween,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes immediately fill up with tears, just like yours.

It was one of the most precious moments of your life. After years of going to therapy and working on yourself, and after you and Quinn married each other, you finally understood that you could have a loving family. Something to call yours. And when you found out you were pregnant, it was terrifying, because all you could think of is that you were going to be just like your mother.

You still remember that day as if it had been yesterday, and not three years ago. It was winter, late night, and you knew Quinn wouldn’t get home from his away game until the morning after.

Bella looked at you with a stressed expression on her face, putting her paw on your thigh, as you were sitting on the toilet’s lid and staring at the plastic thing on your other thigh.

Positive, it read. And it couldn’t be, not with you.

You and Quinn had a decent amount of sex, but even though you ditched the condom a long time ago, you still took your birth control pills religiously, you hadn’t been sloppy.

And now, after two weeks of constant headaches, nauseous and sore boobs, you decided to listen to your heart and buy a couple of tests. Despite doing all of that, you didn’t expect them to turn out to be positive.

It was scary as hell. You pondered calling Emma, your therapist, but then you checked the time on your phone and it was already three a.m. Besides, you felt bad for telling her first, and not Quinn or Victoria even.

What the hell am I going to do?, you keep asking yourself. You knew that Quinn wanted to have kids, but what about those couples who fall out of love when they have kids? Or those people who start complaining about children all the time?

Or what if I turn out to be just like my mom, the hidden, dark part of you asks, and the thought sends you into a spiral. What if I turn out just like my mom?!

You rest your head between your hands, letting the first tears roll down your face, freely. For the first time ever you were happy that Quinn wasn’t around you because you don’t even know what you would tell him.

Bella continues to whimper beside you and even though you want to tell her you’re fine, you couldn’t. Because you weren’t.

“Sweets? What’s wrong?”

Quinn’s voice scares you so hard you get up from the lid, gasping as the test falls from your thigh, hitting the carpet underneath your feet with the softest thud.

“Quinn?” You ask, trying to wipe your tears as fastest as you could. “What are you doing here? You said you’d be back tomorrow.”

“We left the arena earlier but—” he steps closer, his hands finding your waist immediately. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt? Do we need to visit the hospital? What’s going on?”

His soothing voice only made you cry more, because you could totally picture him talking like this with a little baby, your baby. Quinn would be the most perfect father ever, and you had always known it.

He puts your head in the space between his neck and shoulder, rocking you gently as he often did whenever you had a meltdown— rare moments that happen from time to time, always with him by your side to take care of you.

He didn’t force you to speak, he never did. He respected your time, and even when sometimes you only wanted to talk about the things upsetting you days later, he’d respect your wishes. And you love him so much for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words coming out muffled since your mouth was hidden.

Quinn freezes for a second, pulling you just the slightest bit away, his blue eyes searching for something inside of yours. Whatever he found, it only made him frown.

“I think I misheard what you said. Can you repeat, baby?”

“I’m pregnant,” You finally say, feeling the tears that had stopped for a minute coming back with more strength. “I’m sorry.”

His frown deepens. “What are you sorry for, baby? Don’t say that.”

“I swear I took all of my pills,” you choke on your tears, shaking your head. “I did everything right but—”

“Maddie, look at me,” Quinn grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “This isn’t your fault, sweets, there’s no such thing as saying sorry because you’re pregnant. The moment we decided to have sex without a condom we knew this could happen. It’s fine, baby, we will work it out. It’s my responsibility too.”

“I know you don’t want this now,” you whisper. “I know the timing is bad. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

Quinn kisses your cheek before intertwining his hand with yours and getting you both out of the bathroom, with Bella following behind you. He took you to the kitchen, sitting you on one of the stools and filling up the baby blue kettle that sat on the counter with water. While he waited, he turned around and walked back at you, kissing your head.

“In what world do you live in, baby?” He chuckles. “Of course I want a baby with you, Maddie. You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing on your face.

“I’m just— you’re in the middle of the season. I have work too. And—what are we going to do, if we decide to k-keep it?”

“I think it’s too soon for you to decide anything, mhm? I’m not an expert, but I know we have some time before deciding what you want to do. Either way, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He smiles at you again, booping your nose, like he often did.

The kettle beeps, and Quinn runs straight to it, turning it off and pouring the water in your favorite mug, where he had already put a chamomile tea bag inside of it.

He also poured a little bit of cold water, just to get the tea’s temperature perfect for you to drink.

“No sugar for you, because you’re already sweet enough.”

You laugh between your tears. “Will you someday stop talking about the fact that I don’t like to drink tea with sugar?”

“I don’t think so, baby, but I’ll try.” He winks, the mood lighter.

You drank your tea with Quinn by your side, talking about his game and how things went. He knew you liked when he talked about his work, so the fact that he started doing it without you asking meant a lot to you.

As he talked, you tried to organize your thoughts inside your head. Which hadn’t been easy.

“I don’t wanna be like her.” You whisper, and Quinn smiles sadly at you, shaking his head.

You haven’t spoken with your family in years. You’d yearly text them on their birthdays, but you’d always block them right after, not wanting them to reach you. It was just still hard for you to understand how your own family didn’t want anything to do with you, so you kept doing that, just for your peace of mind.

It wasn’t like you missed having them in your life, because you reached a point where all the memories you had of them were bad. And when you married Quinn, and added his last name to yours? It was like your mom finally reached her breaking point and unleashed all of her disgust for you in one go, during a very harsh phone call, where Quinn had to intervene and turn it off. “It will be the last time you’ll speak to my wife like this, do you hear me? I don’t care who you are or what you do. This is the last time, Jessica.”

And it had been the last time indeed.

“You won’t ever be like her, baby.”

“You don’t know that,” you frown. “I’ve heard people talking before, y’know? I remember how they’d say my mom was different before I was born. And sometimes Peter would talk about it too. She might’ve not loved my dad, but she was happy before me. Will I be the same if we keep the baby?”

Quinn holds your hand and caresses it with his thumb. “You already know the answer to that, Maddie. You’re nothing like her, and you never will be,” he kisses your lips. “Besides, why are you so worried about being a mom? Aren’t you one already?”

You laugh, looking at Bella slaughter her tennis ball on the couch.

“I guess you’re right.”

Lila frowns at Quinn’s tears, looking at you for help, because she had never seen her Daddy cry before.

“Why daddy cry?” she asks, before taking little steps and stopping in front of him, little hands wiping his face. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

“These are tears of joy, babygirl,” he laughs, hugging her tiny body, their beautiful curls touching each other. “Of course you can be daddy, baby. In fact, we’ll both be daddy.”

Lila’s giggle fills up the entire room, and she runs around, happily.

“Be careful, love,” you tell her, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulders, watching as Lila sits on top of Bella, making her growl loudly. “We have to get going, though, baby. Grandpa is waiting for you with Grandma.”

“U-uncle Luke?” she asks, making you laugh and Quinn sigh.

“What’s up with that unhealthy obsession of hers with Luke?”

“It’s probably the curls,” you joke, teasing him. “And the smile.”

“I have curls and a beautiful smile too, Madison, I’m not following.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and you giggled at his jealous face.

“We have to get ready, come on,” you tell him, before getting up and searching for Lila’s jersey with Quinn’s name and number on it, while Quinn looked for his.

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume, Maddie? Lila, your mommy’s boring.” Jack rolls his eyes at you, his arms reaching out for Lila as soon as he opens the door. “And look at you, huh? Are you supposed to be Quinn?”

“Mommy’s not— boring. And I wanna be daddy.” Lila wraps her hand around Jack’s neck, holding him close. “Uncle Luke?”

“I’m here, princess,” Luke says, standing behind Jack and smiling at Lila, who makes grabby hands and jumps to his arms right away, making both Quinn and Jack pout. You laughed behind your hands.

Thankfully, Lila managed to distract everyone from the fact that you were the only person not wearing a costume. For your surprise to work, it wouldn’t make sense for you to wear anything. Earlier, you had told Quinn that you hadn’t had time to buy anything, which had been a straight up lie. But he didn’t question you anyway, just told you that next time you could ask him to buy it for you.

Jim and Ellen’s house was packed with people, some of the family’s friends and cousins, all dressed up and cheerful. You spent the entire evening making sure that everything was perfect for your surprise, while Quinn took care of Lila— or tried to take care of her, since your little girl hadn’t left her uncle’s arms yet.

“Okay, so, everyone,” you start, watching as Quinn’s family sits on the gigantic table in the backyard, with Lila sitting on Luke’s lap and Quinn beside Ellen and one of his cousins. “Last thing we’re doing before dinner is the pumpkin carving contest. The prettiest one will win.”

“Who will be the judge?” Jack asks.

“Me.” You grin at him, hearing his complaints.

Thankfully, everyone was very competitive, and seemed to be enjoying the little game. You eyed Quinn surreptitiously, trying your hardest not to catch his attention before he found your surprise, which happened ten minutes later, after he opened the pumpkin in front of him, suddenly interrupting his talk with his cousin.

You watched as he read the little card you left for him inside the orange fruit, his blue eyes immediately finding yours.

“Why is it so hot in here?” you say to no one, removing your hoodie and placing it on the chair beside where you were standing, stretching your shirt that read Growing Our Little Pumpkin, the cheesy line written with a funny calligraphy.

“Madison.”

Somehow, Quinn’s serious tone reached everyone’s ears, and now all of them, minus Lila who was very entertained with writing on Luke’s pumpkin, were staring at you and, well, your shirt.

You found out that you were expecting again two weeks ago, deciding not to tell Quinn immediately, this time not out of fear but out of want for doing something special, and since Ellen had already arranged this costume party, you thought this would be the perfect moment.

“Oh my God!” Ellen shouts beside Quinn, her smile brighter than the moon decorating the sky. “Oh my God!”

Quinn gets up so fast you barely have time to breathe before his arms are wrapped around your body, squeezing you tightly.

“Baby, are you serious? Is this a joke?” he asks, voice quivering a little.

“No,” you laugh. “I’m pregnant, love.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he glues his lips to yours, and even though you can hear his family’s cheers for you and Lila laughing somewhere, nothing else matters, except for how Quinn holds you.

And if you stop to think for a moment, nothing has ever mattered more than your love for him in your life. You weren’t exactly sure if that was healthy or not, but after caring about the wrong people for so long, you were happy to finally have found something that was yours to keep. Quinn, Lila, the baby growing inside you, his parents and brothers— they were part of you now, and would always be.

Loving Quinn was the best decision of your entire life.

And now you were the person who’d get to keep him for life.

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by kyliejenner, lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 1,082,001 others

madisonhughes past few days :)

View all 2,013 comments

user1 HELLO??? SHE’S PREGNANT AGAIN!????

maddiehughes_updates SHE’S PREGNANT

lhughes_06 missing lila :,(

adrianalima Omg congrats!!!! 🥹

canucks Baby Hughes no 2 💙

vic_alonso can we name the baby victoria if it’s a girl and victorio if it’s a boy

madisonhughes vic_alonso no.

jackhughes madisonhughes vic_alonso don’t be silly. Jack if it’s a boy, Jackie if it’s a girl.

_quinnhughes jackhughes ���

nickharris_img i love u 😗😗

user2 Lila will be a big sister 😭😭😭

user3 I will kms right now so I can reincarnate as your kid

| THROUGH THE YEARS |

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

[slut4slytherinss]

Gold Rush

SEND REQUESTS!!

Summary: in which (fem!)reader is in love with Mattheo, but so is everyone else. Reader pushes her feelings deep down, convinced Mattheo, beautiful Mattheo could never love her. In doing so, hurting herself, and a certain curly haired boy.

3,014 words

Warnings: cursing, fighting, slight mention of sexual content, reader being self-conscious, Mattheo being an idiot, Mattheo and his big ego, angst, potentially more parts(???), not proofread bc I don’t have time, a few references to movies IF YOU SQUINT, possibly ooc Mattheo (I haven’t read Everything Black in a hot minute forgive me), use of Y/n, Tom Riddle is Mattheo’s father in this, Regulus is in fact dead (rip my man), Mattheo and reader being a bitch lol, in character-ish Enzo but not headcannon Enzo, THEO IS IN THE SLUG CLUB FOR THE PLOT IM AWARE THAT HE WASNT IN THE BOOKS

2nd person pov

Hufflepuff prefect reader

Female reader

Gleaming, twinkling, eyes like sinking ships on waters. So inviting, I almost jump in.

Your eyes are trained on the dark haired boy, specifically those deep eyes. “I know I’m pretty, you don’t have to stare, love.” Mattheo grins, you quickly dart your eyes away, “I wasn’t staring.” you murmur. He scoots his chair back, the feet scraping against the old library floor, he stands up and walks towards you— not even bothering to push the bloody chair back in. He takes a seat right next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder, “You really should be studying, y’know? Can’t have m’girl failing her exams.” My girl. You roll your eyes. “I’m immune to your charms, Riddle.” You say, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself of that. “Are you, though? I mean, remember in first year when you—“ you quickly cut him off, a foreign red flush invading your cheeks. “I was eleven!” You whisper-yell, his grin widens at your embarrassment. “Okay.” He drags the word out, “Some things never change, badger.” You furrow your eyebrows “Excuse me?” “Y’know? Badger, you’re a Hufflepuff, unless you’re shagging Diggory and stole his tie.” He gestures to your yellow tie, you roll your eyes. “First of all, Cedric is taken and if you call me badger again, I will ruin your pretty face.” “You think I’m pretty?” Another eye roll. “If you keep rolling your eyes at me, they’re gonna get stuck back there.” Before you can reply, a girl you recognize as a Slytherin fifth year, only younger than you by a year, calls for the boy sitting in front of you. “Mattheo! I don’t have all day, c’mon.” He looks back at the blonde girl and sighs, “Merlin’s beard,” he murmurs, then calls out to her “I’m coming Eloise!” Causing you to let out a laugh. He gives you a look, making you laugh even harder. But once he walks away, you realize that he, Mattheo Riddle, is probably hooking up with that girl, that absolute model, making your smile fade. Making you feel like an idiot for even thinking that he’d like you. For thinking you should inflate his ego even further by confessing.

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush. I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush. Everybody wants you. Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.

-

You clutch your books close to your chest, dodging the hundreds of children rushing to get to class. Like every other day. A paper airplane comes straight toward you, it’s about to hit you clean in the forehead, you duck just in time— but a hand reaches out and catches it. You look over to thank the person, it’s Mattheo. Of course it’s Mattheo. That damned boy never leaves you alone. “You alright?” He asks, seeming genuinely concerned. Of course he does. He always does. “I’m fine, Riddle.” You spit out, fighting back your horrid feelings. He tries to speak but you just walk toward the potions classroom.

Walk past, quick brush. I don’t like slow motion double vision in a rose blush.

-

You sigh as you walk into the lavatory. Standing in front of the sink, you splash your face with some water. Trying to cool yourself down. “Y/n?” Fucking Mattheo. “I really don’t have time for your bullshit, what are you even doing in the girls la—“ you cut yourself off as you see Mattheo, a girl against the wall, not Eloise, a different girl. An older girl, a seventh year. Looking annoyed as ever. You let out a breath of surprise. Shaking your head you turn back around and walk out of the bathroom. Feeling like an idiot. Like always when it comes to that boy.

I don’t like that falling feels like flying till the bone crush. Everybody wants you. But I don’t like a gold rush.

“Wait! Y/n—“ he rushes out of the bathroom to follow you, he grabs your wrist and you turn around quickly. “Let go.” You spit out, he tenses his jaw. “Why are you even acting like this? You don’t need to get so pissed just because you’re jea—“ Slap. Your eyes widen, as well as his, “Did you just slap me?” “No.” you reply quickly. “You just slapped me.” he persists, “No I didn’t.” “Yea, you did.” “Yes I did.” you finally admit. “Why?” He asks, “You said I’m jealous, I’m not jealous. You just have a big head.” “I have other big things.” You slap him again. But this time on his forearm. And, oh Merlin. Why is his arm so muscular? Why are his eyes so deep and brown and beautiful? Why do his oh so pretty brown curls look so pull-able? Why do his lips look so perfect and kissable? Was he always this beautiful? Of course he was. He was always beautiful. You’ve known that since the first time you saw him.

What must it be like, to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos.

-

You walk into the Slytherin common room with Dorothea, one of your closest friends, she’d convinced you to come to this party. And you’d stupidly agreed. You stupidly got drunk. You stupidly found Mattheo. You stupidly kissed him. You stupidly hooked up with him.

You look around the room, Mattheo has his arm under your neck. “Okay,” you whisper to yourself “yeah, okay. I can get out of here.” You roll over a bit, pulling the covers off of yourself carefully. You easily get out of his warm, soft bed. An odd coldness filling your body as you do so. You slip on your shoes and realize that you don’t have your shirt on, you look around his room, which is surprisingly clean— minus the clothes everywhere, on the doorknob, there’s your shirt. How did it even get there? You shake your head and walk over to it, putting it on over you. You hear Mattheo groan and you quickly look over, he’s still asleep, but reaching out in the bed, as if looking for you. It takes you a moment before you realize that you need to leave before him and his charm pull you back in.

I see me padding ‘cross, your wooden floors. With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door.

-

It’s been 3 weeks. 3 weeks since you went to that party. 3 weeks since you found Mattheo. 3 weeks since you kissed him. 3 weeks since you hooked up with him. 2 weeks and 6 days since you woke up in his room and mission impossible escaped. You haven’t spoke to him, or anyone in Slytherin at all. In fear that he told everyone he knows and you’d never live it down. He didn’t. But you don’t know that. You’re choosing out a dress for dinner, you’re in the slug club, but so is Theodore Nott and those two are friends, best friends even. So of course Mattheo was the boys plus one. No matter that. Dorothea suggests a simple dress that shows off your body, but you shake your head, “No, Dor, that— that doesn’t compliment me right.” So you choose a dress that goes down to your knees, it’s long-sleeved, completely covers your cleavage, which was the goal of course. You paired it with some old converse, not liking the feeling of heels on your feet all night. You have your hair done nicely in your favorite style.

“No Mattheo, I really don’t agree with that, you’re so— so contrarian.” You shake your head, “Oh give me a break!” He groans, but you just give him a look, calling him an asshole with your eyes. He’s just told you an opinion on the muggle-world, he’s a pure blood, seriously, who does he think he is? Giggles can be heard from others sitting around you, including Dorothea and Theodore who are sitting next to each other. Slughorn tries to get you two to stop, “O—okay, Mr. Riddle, Ms. Y/l/n, please refrain from arguments at the table.” “This isn’t an argument, it’s a debate.” You correct.

As you’re walking back to your common room, you overhear some girls talking “Oh, wouldn’t they be such a cute couple?” One of them giggles, the other nods in agreement “They argue so much, plus, doesn’t Y/n Riddle sound so nice?” “Oh I dunno, I’m kind of jealous of her.” A third one adds. Your eyes widen as you realize they’re taking about you and Mattheo. You quickly butt in their conversation, “We would not be a cute couple! He’s insufferable and his ego is larger than himself!” You huff.

At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit. And the coastal town, we wandered ‘round, had never seen a love as pure as it.

-

“You know that you can’t avoid him all day, right?” Cedric tells you as he notices you staring in Mattheo’s direction in the Great Hall. “I can and I will.” The boy rolls his eyes, “C’mon, when me and Cho get into—“ “Don’t compare you and your girlfriend to me and Mattheo— that’s just.. no!” you mock gag, shaking your head. Cedric just grins at you knowingly, “Why are you smiling at me like that?” you ask, Cedric licks his lips “No reason.” “Shouldn’t you be making out with Cho in a broom closet or something?” you tease, he laughs “Yeah, probably. Shouldn’t you be getting in Mattheo’s pants again?” “Leave it Ced, it will never be.” You murmur as you look down at your tea, mixing it around lazily with your spoon.

And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea. ‘Cause you know it could never be.

-

“Why are you avoiding me?” You stop dead in your tracks, goddamnit. Why is he everywhere? You slowly turn around on your heels, face reddening, “I’m not avoiding you.” you reply simply with a shrug. “Yes you are, I’m sick of it.” He rolls his eyes. “What’s it matter to you? We aren’t friends.” “What are you talking about? Yes we are.” “No, we’re really not Mattheo, you only talk to me when you know I’m going to leave.” You spit out, annoyed with everything, “No I don’t! I talk to you all the—“ you cut him off “Just leave it, I’m done here anyway.” You say before turning back around and walking away, “Well— don’t come crying back to me when you realize no one else cares!” He yells, letting his emotions and large ego get the best of him. “Fuck you!” “You’ve already checked that one off!”

‘Cause I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush. I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush. I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch. Everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.

-

He is such an asshole! Who the fuck does he think he is?! He has no right to speak to you— or anyone for that matter — like that. You huff as you walk into the Great Hall, feeling his gaze immediately land on you. But you won’t give him the satisfaction of meeting that gaze. Taking a seat at your own houses table, you can hear his friends laughing loudly, stupid boys. The only time you do look over at him is when you hear his fork slam against the table and he stands up from his seat, to be fair, the entire Great Hall looks over at him. He ignores his friends and clenches his jaw as he walks out of the huge room, brushing right past you and leaving a small gust of wind from where he walked. Your lips slightly part as you watch him, but you look away just as quickly. Refusing to let him get his way. You shake your head as you now look over at his friends — who you now realize are staring over at you. Furrowing your eyebrows you mouth an annoyed “What?” to them, hoping to get any explanation. Theodore just shakes his head at you, and Lorenzo Berkshire mouths back a “Nothing.” making you even more annoyed with these boys. You decide to take matters into your own hands and stand up, making your way to the Slytherin table where they’re sitting. “Hello, boys.” you raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Uh — hey..” Blaise Zabini murmurs, “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with that dickhead who just walked out of the Great Hall making a scene?” Draco Malfoy laughs at that “Dickhead? Did you just call your little boyfriend a dickhead?” “He’s not my boyfriend Malfoy!” you exclaim which causes Draco to laugh and Theo to nudge his arm, Enzo speaks up “Um, Y/n he’s just upset you’re ignoring him.” now the rest of the boys groan, collectively murmuring little “C’mon man!”’s and “Enzo!”’s he throws his hands up in apology. Eyebrows going up you look at them, “Seriously?” you scoff “he’s mad at me because I’m not talking to him? After what he did?”

Walk past, quick brush. I don’t like slow motion double vision in a rose blush. I don’t like that falling feels like flying till the bone crush.

“Why don’t you just make it easy for him and tell him how you feel?” Theo speaks up with a shrug. “Excuse me? And how exactly do I feel Theodore?” you ask, twisting toward him. “You want him, obviously.” “Everybody wants him! I don’t — I don’t like that horrid feeling!” you exclaim loudly, catching the attention of others around you.

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush.

Lowering your voice, you rest your hands on the table, pushing Blaise’s plate away to do so. He stops in the middle of his chewing to give you a glare, then continues slowly chewing. “You’ve liked him since fist year, admit it.” Blaise speaks with his mouth full, so it’s a bit muffled. “Shut it and eat your potatoes Zabini.” you spit out. He shrugs and does just that. With Zabini out of the conversation Draco speaks again, “But really, stop leading our boy on.” “I haven’t led him — or anyone for that matter — on!” now it’s Theo’s turn to speak “Well.. you did kinda sleep with him and then leave the next morning,” “That was a mistake.” “Still shitty.” Enzo says. You huff, “That’s — no! Even if it was shitty, it’s not like I’m in love with him. He shouldn’t’ve expected anything from me.” Draco raises an eyebrow “Wow, didn’t know Hufflepuffs were such—“ “Dude, don’t finish that sentence.” Enzo says with an eye roll before looking toward you, “If you don’t like him, then don’t lead him on, it’s not difficult.” Looking him up at down for a moment, you sigh and your eyes move around the group at a quick pace. “Tell him I don’t like him, and — that I’m sorry or whatever.” Damn. That hurt you to say. Who knew it’d be this hard to get over him.

What must it be like, to grow up that beautiful, with your hair falling into place like dominoes?

-

As you lay in your bed, miserable and alone, you think about Mattheo. Because of course you do. He’s plagued your mind since first year. Rolling your eyes, you silently curse yourself for not realizing how horrible it was to fall for him. He’s got the perfect life, minus the fact his father is literally the dark lord, still, he’s rich. He has hundreds of girls in love with him and multiple in his bed. You aren’t going to be any of those girls, not now at least.

My mind turns your life into folklore. I can’t dare to dream about you anymore.

-

You hear your name called out by a familiar voice, Pansy Parkinson, her loud — but not angry — footsteps reverberate along the stone walls of the castle. You stop walking just as she catches up to you, out of breath. She reaches for your shoulder to steady herself and you grab her arm to help her. “What’s wrong Pans?” You ask once she catches her breath. “Riddle told me about what you said.” You wince at the mention, “Oh.” She must notice the look on your face since she adds a quick, “Don’t worry, I’m not mad, that boy needs to learn that not every girl is in love with him.” As an afterthought. “Never mind that, you are,” you furrow your eyebrows “—in love with him. You’re in love with him.” She finishes, which causes you to stammer out a quick and defensive, “Am not!” In response. “You literally gave him a bouquet of flowers, which you handpicked, in first year.” “In first year! Yeah, but that’s not now!” She rolls her eyes, “Come on Y/n/n, you’re just going to end up hurting yourself if you keep saying that.” She then removes her hand from your shoulder and you do the same, “Okay, I’ve got detention now, see ya later.” Then she runs off. She literally runs off after telling you that you’re in love with Mattheo Riddle. As if you didn’t know that. As if you didn’t sleep with him.

I see me padding ‘cross your wooden floors. With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door.

-

The last slug club meeting of the year before you leave for Christmas. You aren’t supposed to bring plus-ones, but Slughorn likes Theo too much and let him bring Mattheo. You sit slumped in your chair, dressed nicely though. Dorothea is sick so she couldn’t come. And Mattheo has the audacity to sit right fucking next to you. Purposely making those contrarian remarks, to get you to speak, so he can hear your voice again. Annoyed or not, he wants to hear it. But you don’t. You just stand up and move to sit beside Theo. Mattheo swallows and stops talking, looking down at his food.

At dinner parties, won’t call you out on your contrarian shit.

-

You sit by a garden in Hogsmeade, looking at the flowers silently. Of course, thinking about those girls from a few weeks ago at the Slug club meeting, how they were talking about you and Mattheo. Did everyone think that way? That’s impossible, he’s him, you’re just you. You barely know jack shit about each other. Sighing, you lay back in the grass and fiddle with the strings on your cardigan. It will never be.

And the coastal town, we never found, will never see a love as pure as it. ‘Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea. ‘Cause it will never be.

-

He stands at your doorframe, knocking on the door rapidly. Hearing you groan on the other side and sheets ruffling. He quickly tries to fix up his messy curls and look at least a hit presentable, you open the door as he’s smoothing out his shirt, he’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you’re — well —in your pink unicorn pajama set, that causes him to grin widely. But then he hears your voice murmur a sleepy “Mattheo?” and becomes serious again. “Um—hey.” He smiles gently, out of character for him. “I know it’s late and all, I just had to um.. talk to you.” You rub your eyes and yawn, “Well?” You ask, eyebrows raised expectantly. “I know we aren’t close or anything, but I really fucking like you. I mean—really like you. It’s so weird for me to feel this strongly over.. well, y’know a girl who I barely know. But you’re just different, you make me feel things—things that no one else does.” He watches you watch him nervously, this is really different than the Mattheo you know. “Anyway.. what I’m trying to say is, I think we’d be really good together. I want us to try it out, if you’d have me?” “Mattheo I—“

Gleaming, twinkling, eyes like sinking ships on waters. So inviting, I almost jump in.

-

A/N: IM SOOO SORRY FOR THIS TKAING SO LONG TO WRITE(literally ignore my spelling mistakes wtf) ANYWAY YEAH, LMK IF I SHOUKD MAKE A OART TWO OR SMTHING?????

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

[tired-biscuit]

hi just thinking abt a uhhhhhhhhhh werewolf who's already filled u full but keeps rocking his knot inside u until it swells up all over again bc ur godly writing just ??? 🫣👉👈

imagine trying to push him off of you because you’re so overwhelmed.

one of your hands is on his jaw; fingertips accidentally bumping against drool-slicked canines, the other is on his chest, the hair there so coarse and thick, hiding a wild-beating heart.

your hips wiggle as you attempt to cause some distance between your body and his intimidatingly bigger one just so that you’d be able to gather your breath and a shred of your sanity at least, but you just can’t — no matter what.

he’s got you pinned underneath him, after all; pressing you so far into the mattress that the bed frame is protesting. the wood of the bed frame repeatedly snaps and cracks but he keeps on pushing, keeps on pushing inside you. to make matters even worse, his knot is swollen again and is snuggled tightly against that tender spot that makes you want to close your legs and weep.

but despite the fact that you can’t currently close your legs from the way he’s claimed his rightful place between them, you still cry out at the fullness; at the way his inhuman tongue laps at the single tear that slides from the corner of your eye, then; gliding right down the curve of your cheek. he catches it before it reaches the edge of your jaw. sniffs, warm puffs of air tickling your skin, to see if there are any more to follow before he settles on painting a single line of warm saliva up your neck, right across your pulse point and up the side of your face.

you twitch at the bestial portrayal of affection he gives you now, writhing atop the sweat-soaked bed sheet but stopping immediately when the flash of heat sears you at the place where you connect to him, or rather he to you.

he’s literally stuck inside you for a second time in a row, causing you to feel like your pussy is about to burst. a small hiss leaves your lips in response to the sensation, however you’re relieved to find out that it’s fast to mellow out when you don’t move around as much.

still, it shouldn’t even be there in the first place, now should it? he promised you that the entire thing wouldn’t take long…

and yet here you are.

“i can’t believe you,” you chide, chest heaving because of the anger that bubbles within. “we’re seriously doing this again?”

at your nagging, your werewolf boyfriend stares down at you with what you could best describe as an unimpressed look his eyes. the slits that have replaced his pupils dilate sideways, eating up most of the yellow iris before relenting and thinning back to their original size again.

“keep still and it’ll be okay,” he grumbles, agitation lacing his already gruff, animalistic voice, causing it to sound even more dangerous than it already does. he doesn’t want to come across as mean or inconsiderate, especially when you’re so vulnerable and split open for him like this, but he knows your constant squirming may cause pain for the both of you.

“you’re gonna kill me like this, you know,” you mumble, stubbornly turning your head to the side when he leans in to kiss you. “gonna lose your mate just because you’re one greedy motherf—f-fuck!”

he huffs a laugh that sounds like thunder at your stutter, at the way you pretend to refuse him even if he can feel your pussy clamping down on him tighter, tighter, tighter when the knot finally does its job and stuffs you full completely, locking itself inside you yet again.

your inner thighs are still tacky. his cum and your arousal that have dribbled out of you after the first time are still drying, and here he is: already planning on spilling another load inside you. already thinking about plugging you and keeping you submissive until the seed sticks, just like he did earlier.

it’s his favourite part, especially because the face you make whenever the warmth of his release pools inside your belly is absolutely priceless.

however, nothing, absolutely nothing beats the face you pull when he sneers, gets real close to your ear and whispers,

“the only thing i’m gonna do is make sure you’re pregnant with my pups, sweetheart.”