#its about laughing it off because what else can you do

[gay-dorito-dust]

hiii can u plssss make headcanon for mr scarletella w a reader whos very stern or careless? Like, you can NAWT make jokes or make a conversation with this person because even if u text them its either: 1) they reply a year later or 2) they just send a ❤️ Reaction to your text. Like reader can not turn their frown upside down at all…

I hope this is what you wanted.

He finds your stern nature intriguing and appealing to him. Very appealing to him to say the least.

Does this sternness and Inability to smile and or laugh at a simple joke hinder his attraction? Does it fuck, he’s still very much interested in you to an obsessive and dangerously delusional level.

If anything Mr Scarletella enjoys filling the air with his one voice, telling you of his obsession with you and you’re not saying anything in response, only giving him a sideways glance, so that must mean you reciprocated them right? Right?!

He’d most likely talk your ear off and you can do nothing but listen to him, praying that you can at some point tune him out or something, knowing that Mr Scarletella would just follow you closely like a puppy dog. There was no true escape from this man and he’s too delusional and inside his own head to give you any breathable space.

Mr Scarletella would often keep asking you ‘you like me?’ And all he’d get was either a shrug or a grunt. Not having been much of a conversationalist as most people found your nature off putting and so they just avoid you all together.

Not Mr Scarlettella though, he was convinced that the grunts and shrugs were full sentences, thriving off of the idea that you’d only grunt and shrug towards him while giving everyone else a stoney stare or nothing at all. He genuinely believed that and it was terrifying to think of the implications of what he’d do if he believed someone else thought similar to him.

Death essentially but we all knew that. The man is not exactly stable in any sense of the word.

You don’t even bat so much of an eyelid when he gets up close and personal to your face, giggling like a lovesick school boy as his eyes darted across your face, taking in all the details and features you possessed that were uniquely yours and yours alone. Giving himself all the more delusional fantasies of you acting extremely out of character and clinging onto him, demanding for affection and so forth.

He’s most likely the type to fall for an idea of an person and if they act outside of what he believes them to be, he’ll either deny it as he tries to rewrite the image he has of you to better suit his fantasies, not wanting to think about how his false reality of the truth could easily make him even more unhinged.

Seriously the idea of someone not living up to his expectations that he’s made up is a thought you didn’t want to think about too deeply, especially with not how eager he is to kill for you, and instead remain truthful to yourself and keep an eye on him in case something happens.

Since your stern persona and people’s inability to make conversations or jokes with you, Mr Scarletella would find this more easier as he didn’t have to worry about someone taking you away from him. You were his and his alone and he had your nearly unapproachable expressions to thank for.

No competition for your heart? No worries for him as it meant he could cling onto you, continuing to ask whether you liked/ loved him throughout the day while kissing your face and pulling back in hopes of seeing if any change in your expression.

There wasn’t and Mr Scarletella hasn’t fallen for you harder then he already did.

[ivy-elle]

“Do you believe in fate?”

His sudden question cuts through the quiet stillness of the bedroom, and makes you halt.

“How much of Childe’s drinks have you had earlier to ask me about fate now?” you retort, while his hand absentmindedly trails through your hair.

“Shut up, you brat. Just answer the question.”

You stifle a laugh. “Alright.�� The sheets rustle as you shift in bed. “Well… that depends, I’d say.”

Scaramouche doesn’t scoff like you’d expect him to. Yet his tone is still gruff, but not mocking. “Fate isn’t a conditional concept.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” he says bluntly, “you either believe in it, or you don’t. Simple as that.”

Your eyes drift to the ceiling, tracing the dim veins of light dancing above. 

“You can’t prove fate exists. It’s only real because you believe in it,” you muse quietly. “But as you said, it’s a concept. If I believe in it, it exits in my mind. So why can’t it be conditional in my mind?”

His brows furrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Mhm. Do you believe in fate, then?”

“No.”

“Because you want to be in control of your life?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of someone pulling my strings to their entertainment.”

“So, you deem fate as some sadistic spectator of life.”

“Yes. Which is why I’d rather not give it more power by believing it its existence.”

“That’s an interesting paradox.”

He doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his fingers resume their path through your hair, pensive. Then-

“What do you mean by ‘fate is dependable’?”

You sit up halfway in bed, looking down at him. His hands instinctively settle on your waist, holding you close.

“I mean it like…” You pause, considering on your words, “I like to think of fate as a kind of kick-off. Like a push in the right direction.”

Your finger traces gently along his collarbone as you continue. “But it’s in our hands to find the right path. In the end, we form our own lives.”

“Then tell me,” he mutters, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer, his eyes flickering with intensity, “who decides what’s the right or wrong path? That’s quite the divine arrogance, don’t you think?”

“You’re blind in your utter hatred for the Archons,” you shoot back, lying down next to him again. You rest your head against his chest.

“Can you truly blame me for that?” His arms move around your waist, almost a second nature to have you as near as possible.

“No,” you whisper. “I don’t think I can hold that against you.”

“Whatever damn path I might have been pushed onto, as you said - fate sure has a macabre sense of humour.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but your path isn’t done yet.”

“Precisely. And don’t even think about leaving my side any time soon.”

“Mhm, I wouldn’t dare.” Your gaze drifts back to the lights dancing on the ceiling. “Besides, who else would I talk to about the meaning of life in the middle of the night?”

“Shut up.”

Some time passes in which silence settles on you like a warm blanket, while you both ponder on the conversation. When you think he’s already fallen asleep, you quietly speak into the dim room. 

“I like to believe in fate because it means there’s still a kind of mercy in the universe, that wishes for our souls to find some peace.”

Scaramouche doesn’t respond, but you feel his finger gently resting against the pulse point of your wrist.

You close your eyes, a peaceful smile gracing your lips. 

[chukys-mouthguard]

bed chem

how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things

1.4K words

featuring -> matt rempe x female reader

genre -> fluff, smut; 18+ minors DNI - mature themes

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

Watching from across the room, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes locked on Matt. Sure, part of that was because he was hard to miss. His giant frame caught everyone’s eye. But it was mostly because you couldn’t shake the thoughts you’d had about him all week long leading up to this night.

The two of you had briefly met a few weeks back, not having much time to talk but exchanging numbers anyways as you had hit it off well. Those text messages went from friendly to flirty, and next thing you knew you were getting shirtless snapchats from Matt that had your mind racing with thoughts that were anything but innocent.

And sure, you’d partaken in sending back some snaps of your own. Just enough to get his mind racing, make him want more. And that he did, both of you did.

Sipping from your solo cup you watched as Matt crossed his arms as he spoke to a group of friends. The way his biceps flexed at the motion, his shirt tightening them as he threw his head back laughing. His smile could make any girl melt, as his thick Canadian accent could be heard above the crowd and the music.

He’d shook his head at something one of the guys said before his eyes finally landed on you. His smirk changed to one that was a bit cocky, as he slightly bit his lip, eyeing you. Excusing himself from the group, Matt slowly made his way through the crowd before he found himself practically chest to chest with you as there wasn’t much room in the kitchen to have a decent conversation.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Biting your lip you pulled your cup back to your mouth as you took a sip, eyeing him from behind the plastic rim as he was practically undressing you right there with his eyes.

“Having fun?”

“Watching you all night? Absolutely.”

Both of you chuckled as you checked your cup, slightly frowning as you noticed you were all out. Matt took your cup from you, picking up on the situation as he set it down on the counter before taking your hand in his.

“Umm where are we going?”

You questioned but continued on with him, following as he pulled you down the hallway then upstairs.

“You looked thirsty, so I’m gonna help you out.”

Matt winked at you as he led you to an extra bathroom tucked away at the back of the house. Looking over your shoulder you checked to be sure no one saw the two of you, though you were sure this bathroom was not a first or even second choice for partygoers.

“Oh yeah? How you gonna do that Rempe?”

His cocky grin reappeared on his lips as he shut the door behind you, earning a gasp from you as he quickly lifted you up to sit you on the counter.

“Gonna give you what you’ve been thinking about all night.”

His words were firm but his voice was the opposite, the way he could still sound so sweet and innocent while his hands were making their way underneath your shirt. Goosebumps covering your skin as his touch was cold against you, a smirk on his lips as he felt you shiver beneath him.

“No need to be nervous, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, no matter the moment Matt would find a way to crack a joke. Always.

“Matthew, can you ever be serious?”

“Of course…I’m serious when I say I wanna bend you over this counter.”

A cocky smirk made its way across his lips before he grabbed your face, pulling your lips to meet his in a sloppy kiss. Something that the two of you had easily been thinking about all night. The way your tongues clashed as you fought for dominance, your hands tangled in his hair while Matt’s fell to your waist. Quickly pulling your shirt from your frame as he eyed the blue lace bra you’d opted for. Hoping it would get seen by anyone other than yourself, but only wanting Matt to be that “anyone else”.

“You were hoping for this weren’t you? Choosing that bra?”

Matt chuckled as lips found your again, a hand dropping to cup your breast as he could finally take advantage of not being stuck staring at them from his phone screen. The color bra being the one he made known was his favorite from the occasional risqué photos you’d send his way. Obviously making it the only choice to wear for tonight.

“I think you might’ve mentioned liking it..”

Your voice trailed off breathless as Matt’s attention moved to your neck, leaving a trail of soft bites followed by kisses and licks to soothe the skin.

“Like it? I fucking love it.”

His words were laced with his thick Canadian accent, something you’d noticed came out the more excited he’d become. Arching your back into his touch you subconsciously found his crotch pressing against you, his jeans now tighter than before as he had clearly been enjoying the moment.

“Did you put on the matching thong for me too baby girl?”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted you from the counter, pulling down your jeans in one quick motion to reveal that you did in fact match your panties to the bra. Matt’s eyes filled with desire as he looked down at you, his hand tracing your curves and playing with the lace of the thong as it sat high on your hip.

“So fucking beautiful.”

He pulled you in for one last kiss before turning you around to face the mirror, a cocky grin on his face as he caught you staring while he discarded his jeans, then tossed his tshirt to the side. Your eyes trailing every muscle of his as you watched him, his fingers gripping your ass before pulling the string of your thong to the side. Teasing you ever so slightly as they slid up your slit to feel how wet you’d gotten for him.

“Mmm, glad to see you’re enjoying this.”

Part of you wanted to tell to cut the shit and fuck you already, but you had to admit you liked the way he admired your body. The way he was still sweet and charming while having you bent over the bathroom counter at a party.

He soon replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding it up and down your folds as the two of you moaned in unison. Each taking a deep breath as he slowly thrust himself inside you, his grip firm on your hips as he cursed at how tight you were.

“Holy shit.”

“I could say the same for you.”

You shot him a wink in the mirror as you held the counter, catching your breath as you adjusted to his size before urging him to continue.

His thrusts had picked up their pace with your go ahead, the sounds of sex filling the bathroom as you tried to contain your moans. The two you almost in perfect rhythm as you did your best to meet his thrusts as you pushed back against him, only causing a slew of expletives to pour from Matt.

“Fuck you feel so good baby. Come ride me.”

Matt pulled himself from you, immediately grabbed your chin to pull you in for a kiss, the two of you chuckling at the other as you fought for dominance.

Matt scanned the bathroom, realizing it wasn’t the ideal place for the position he was trying for. Settling for sitting on the edge of the bathtub in hopes that you two could make it work.

“You’re kidding?”

“Come on, I’ll help you out, don't worry.”

His voice was slightly whiny as he reached for your hand and pulled into him, a hand smacking your ass before helping to guide your thigh over his lap. Then following suit with the other.

“Matt, this is gonna hurt, my knees on a fucking bathtub?”

He threw his head back in defeat as he sighed, realizing you were right.

“Fuck…you’re right. Did you drive here?”

He looked up at you with a devilish grin as you nodded, slightly confused at the question.

“Yes, but I’ve been drinking. We both have, neither one of us can drive.”

Matt quickly gathered up his clothes, helping you to find yours as he shook his head.

“Who said anything about driving? Would the front seat or the back seat be more comfortable for you baby?”

[unoislazy]

For Me?

Vi x Piltover! Reader

Vi deserves the world and a partner that cares about her. Being from Zaun comes with its insecurities when being with someone from Piltover. Luckily, you know exactly how to counter them.

A/N: You guys wont have to worry about that much angst from me for a while, I need to cope from act 3 by giving Vi the best life possible and all the fluff imaginable because oh my god??

There were times when you’d think back to when and how you and your girlfriend met for the first time. Such a chance of it happening was very slim given you two belonged to two different cities, you Piltover, her Zaun. You never thought the girl who rammed into you after fleeing from an explosion from an unauthorized lab would one day come back into your life. 

The story of your reunion however was quite the convoluted one. Once again, a meeting set by nothing but pure fate and chance. 

You weren’t supposed to be at Zaun at the time. In fact, you weren’t supposed to be in Zaun at all. You went on your own, against your family's wishes, for the sake of immersing yourself in a culture that is not your own. You were raised to believe that the people of the undercity were monsters, the filth under Piltover's feet, nothing more than animals. It never felt right to you, there had to be more to it. After all, they were people too.

So, you went to see for yourself how awful these “animals” really were. 

You knew better than to walk in expecting everything to be rainbows and unicorns, but you refused to let go of your optimism as you traveled around the labyrinth like maze of streets and alleyways. 

It wasn’t until the smell of a peculiar type of food filled your senses. 

You didn’t know what it was, it was very different from anything you had ever tried before, so you decided to check it out.  

Once there, you were greeted by a fairly jolly fish-like man with a large smile. He laughed heartily, gesturing for you to take a seat and gave you a list of things to choose from. There were so many options, you had no idea where to start, and it wasn’t until you heard someone else set directly beside you did you finally have an idea. 

You looked to your left and were quickly met with a head of bright pink hair. Quite a unique shade which you could’ve sworn you’d seen before, but you brushed the thought off. There were probably plenty of people with the same hair color, besides if there’s one thing you knew not to do in Zaun, it was to stare. 

You heard one of them, a woman, order something specific off of the fish man’s list, whom she referred to as Jericho. He happily took her order before turning to her friend who denied wanting anything, and then turning back to you. 

“I’ll have the same.” You said with a polite smile. Jericho nodded before turning around and getting right to work. As you waited, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl next to you once again, there was something familiar about her despite her back being turned to you for the most part. 

That was until her friend noticed you staring and began to pull her hood over her eyes which grabbed the pink haired girl's attention. She quickly turned around to face you with an angered look on her face, clearly ready to fight if need be.

“Can I help y-“ She began, but before she could finish it finally clicked with you. 

“You’re the girl.” You whispered, having not realized that maybe saying that to a girl who looked, for lack of a better phrase, like she could rock your shit, probably was not a good idea.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, clearly confused, but still clearly not happy about your interruption.

“That girl, from the explosion, that was you.” 

Her reaction to your realization was less than friendly, and you couldn’t blame her. You hadn’t known at the time but she had just gotten out of jail for that same crime. She didn’t know who you were, she didn’t know what you wanted, and she didn’t want to involve herself with more pilties than she needed. 

And yet despite everything, here she was, now living with you on her days when she wasn’t in Zaun. You had quite the rocky start in the beginning but you became useful to her quest for her sister, and the more time you spent with her, the closer you two got. At first she was a bit standoffish, not believing someone from topside was capable of showing so much empathy, if any. Yet somehow you proved her wrong. You chipped away at that stone wall she built around her heart all those years away in prison and became one of the few things she coveted most. 

You two didn’t live together all the time, but your house was always open to her as you had now managed to move away from your parents. You knew Vi could never stay topside for too long, and you’d never ask her to do such. So there were a few days here and there where she would stay with you, then go back to the undercity to continue to help out, then come back up with you.

Now today was the day for Vi to come back, so you decided to surprise her to the best of your ability with the dish she got from Jericho the day you two met once again. It was quite a feat that required you to go to the undercity a fair amount of times to visit Jericho and ask for help. Luckily the sweet man was more than happy to let you in on a few of his trade secrets for the sake of a thoughtful gift. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of this type of food, you’ve tried it on more than one occasion, but it very clearly wasn’t for you. 

But it was what Vi liked so that was enough. 

As you continued to cook, you heard your door open, without even needing to look you knew it was your partner walking through the door.

“Welcome back.” You greeted warmly. 

Just then, You felt two hands wriggle around your waist before the weight of her head rested on your shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, her face now moving towards your neck, enough for you to feel the light feeling of her breath wafting over your neck. 

You ignored the feeling to the best of your ability but you couldn’t ignore the small smile that made its way to your face, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Vi as she mumbled against your neck, 

“What are you making?” She asked, pressing her body a bit more into yours. She had a tendency to be clingy after being away for long periods of time, which you didn’t mind. 

“Something new. Just got the recipe, I think you’ll like it.” You said with a smile, which earned a short chuckle from your girlfriend who turned to begin peppering light kisses against your neck.

“If it’s made by you Sunshine, of course I will.” She said sweetly, despite the fact she was trying to ‘discreetly’ distract you. It wasn’t actually very discreet but she thought it was and you weren’t going to correct her.

“It smells familiar.” She said quietly after pausing for a moment to look back over your shoulder.

“Means I’m doing something right then.” You said happily, glad that it was going well. Her confirmation that she at the very least was beginning to recognize it was enough to motivate you to continue. However despite your motivation it was clear your girlfriend still had other plans in mind. 

Her hands slowly began to move their way up from your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as her face remained by your neck. 

“Can I at least finish the food first?” You asked with a laugh as your left hand went up to lightly brush against Vi’s face, acknowledging what she was trying to do. 

She once again mumbled quietly against you before finally pulling away. 

“Fine.” She said with an overly dramatic sigh before continuing, 

“You’re no fun.” She teased as her hands slowly, reluctantly, left your sides as she moved to the counter next to the stove you were using to cook. She leaned the back of her waist against it, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you with a look you could only describe as a lighthearted pout.

“Save that for later you just got back. You have to eat first.” You said in a somewhat stern manner, not looking away from the food cooking in front of you. 

“Who says I can’t have a bit of dessert first?” 

“Vi!” You exclaimed as you walked her softly with a cloth that you had placed by the stove. She laughed, a full genuine laugh, which she felt like she could only do near you. You were the only one to really bring it out of her at this point. 

“Just… go sit down, the food is almost done.” You instructed, turning back to the food as she chuckled once again before walking back towards you. Her hand made its way back to your waist once again as she leaned towards your ear,

“Can’t wait.” She whispered cheekily before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and walking towards the dining room. 

You, being from a family who had lived in Piltover for quite some time, were able to afford a house with multiple furnished rooms with ease. It always threw Vi off just the slightest bit, the difference in what the two of you grew up with. It got to her more than she’d like to admit. A few times she believed herself to be holding you back, you came from a life of glittering buildings, and she came from nothing but metal scraps. 

You were so different and yet you always managed to remind her that it didn’t matter. She loved you for you and you loved her for her, wherever you came from had no effect on that.

Vi sat down in one of the few chairs in your dining room, looking around at the paintings that littered the walls, her previous thoughts remaining on her mind before she was interrupted by a plate of food entering her view and landing in front of her.

“Tada!” You exclaimed into the silent room, the only other sound being that of the plate lightly hitting the table. Vi sat in silence for a moment as she looked down at the food before her, it took her a moment before she recognized it.

“Wait. Did you-“ She began to ask.

“Find the recipe to your favorite dish from your favorite food stand? Maybe.” You responded with a proud smile as you sat down in the chair next to her, eager to have her try it. 

“How did you get the stuff for it?”

“Well, I visited a friend.” You said with a shrug. Vi looked towards you, her eyes wide with shock. As each moment passed she realized just how much effort went into this one dish.

“You hate this kind of stuff, why would you-“

“Cause I know you like it and I wanted to make it for you.” You said simply as you placed your hand atop hers.

Suddenly Vi couldn’t think of a response. Her sudden silence worried you almost, was she mad? Was she upset at you? 

You then looked at her eyes and watched as they softened, the powder blue irises glistened as water lightly began to form in them.

“Holy shit.” She said quietly, entirely taken aback as she sat back in her chair. For someone with such a tough exterior you could see the walls slightly begin to crack as she looked down at the food before her. It meant more than the world to her that you had put so much effort into something she liked, for her, and for no other reason. 

Just because you cared.

It had been a long time since Vi had been truly reminded she was loved. Just having such a simple yet, such a powerful reminder in the middle of nowhere by the one person she truly loved was almost disorienting. You went out of your way to get ingredients you couldn't get easily in Piltover, a recipe you had to go to a specific stand for, her favorite stand no less, and then put it all together?

“Vi?” You asked quietly, your other hand going up the cup to her face so she would look at you a bit more as you looked at her with a bit of concern. You didn’t expect such an emotional reaction from your gesture that you were worried you had done something wrong.

“Are you o-”

Before you could finish your question, Vi had turned to you quickly and engulfed you in a hug. This took you completely by surprise. In the time that you and Vi had been together, more often than not when it came to specifically hugging, you were the one to initiate. She just never seemed like the hugging type unless it was an occasion where she truly meant it.

And in this case, she did. 

“Thank you, Sunshine.” She said quietly as she squeezed just a bit tighter. Your hands rested against her back as you smiled, feeling as if you had done a job well done even without her trying her dish. You knew Vi had been through a lot over the years and while you didn’t know the full extent of everything just yet, you knew you could at least try to offer her some sort of comfort. So that’s what you strived for and it seems like that's what you succeeded to do. 

Once she pulled back from the hug, you reached up to wipe her tears, the smile still present on your face as you spoke. 

“Well, are you gonna try it?” You asked, to which she smiled and let out a slight chuckle. She then eagerly turned back around towards her plate and dug in as she usually did in the undercity. She knew you didn’t care about the messy nature that often came with Zaun cuisine, even if it wasn’t what you were raised on, it meant a lot to her that you at least tried it out. With one taste she immediately released a sound of pure bliss and dove back in for more.

You laughed, knowing that was Vi’s way of saying you had done a perfect job, even if she didn’t pause from her eating to just tell you so herself. 

[deusfoundry]

i've got no idea if you are writing right now but i would love myself a fem!reader x kageyama. love you xx

U KNOW WHAT NONNIE i would love myself a kageyama x reader too hehe so here u go!!

p.s. i was half asleep when i wrote this literally i was fighting to keep my eyes open so its not my best pls forgive me i tried

you remember the conversation you had with tobio so, so clearly, almost as if it was yesterday. which, you think, isn't entirely untrue considering it occurred barely two weeks ago.

tobio had outright rejected the idea of keeping your relationship a secret.

"why would i want to hide the fact that you're my girlfriend?"

and you try not to melt into a puddle over his bluntness, the way the words my girlfriend rolled off his tongue with ease. he didn't stutter. didn't trip over his words. you were his.

you cite a few reasons why he would consider it, all of which are valid in your eyes. backlash from fans. reduced sponsorships. less guest appearances on evening talk shows. factors that were valuable to his career. but he had told you, with an almost terrifying conviction, that he doesn't care. so long as he still gets to be on the court, the less-athlete and more-celebrity side of his career doesn't matter to him.

so you two agreed on a compromise. you would ease your relationship to the world, slowly letting more and more people know until it's out in the public.

and the first ones to know are the ones closest to you both. your family and his sister. your friends and his old teammates from highschool.

shoyo had been the first person he called when you agreed to be his girlfriend on one of your at-home dates. you can recall peering into your apartment's living room after a quick trip to the bathroom, watching tobio with his back hunched near the corner.

"she said yes." he whispered into his phone, and you could hear shoyo's overexcited screaming even though he's not on speaker.

next, was your boss. though workplace relationships aren't explicitly stated in your contract to be forbidden, it's highly still discouraged. in turn, you two had gotten an almost hour long lecture about policies and rules. about what this could mean for not only your careers, but for everyone else on the team as well. about the public's possible response.

and with a practiced, corporate smile, you reassured your boss that you have it all under control.

the last people in your four-part plan to find out would've been tobio's teammates and coach, before you (when you're both ready) make an announcement on all of schweiden adlers' social media accounts.

it was so easy, and tobio had agreed to follow through with it. you remember because he swore with a kiss on the edge of your lips and a shy smile that he would.

which is why you're equally dumbfounded and shocked when he announced your relationship to the public. during a post-match press conference. on live, national television.

satisfaction began to settle in halfway through the presscon. the team was doing great. they answered every question with ease, behaved as well as they could. there were moments of playful banter between the members that the fans would go crazy over. every reporter followed through the brief you gave them earlier about which questions they could and couldn't ask (heavily emphasizing no questions about kourai's height).

it was going so well.

until one of the reporters asked one particular question. it was done in good faith, you could tell by the small grin on her face and the quiet chuckles from everyone. she was playing off an inside joke from the adlers' fanbase which, to your confusion, seemed to adore you just as much as the members of the team.

"is your manager single?"

hirugami laughs, toying a bit with the microphone in his hand before he opens his mouth to answer the question in the same lighthearted nature.

except, tobio beats him to it.

"she's not."

the room falls silent. everyone, even his teammates, look at tobio with intrigue.

"r- really, kageyama-san?" she's damn near shaking, the poor lady, when she realizes tobio's eyes are on her. all bright and blue and intense.

he decides to spare her when he takes a moment to look at you, standing near the side of the stage. you're glaring daggers at him, trying to convey with your two eyes multiple warning signs in big, bold, and red letters.

please don't.

and tobio, who has grown to be perceptive when it comes to you, knows exactly what you mean. he just doesn't have it in him to care right now.

"i should know. i'm her boyfriend."

your mouth falls wide open. the only thought that runs through your mind is you two are so fucking screwed. this wasn't part of the plan you meticulously arranged and presented to your boss.

you don't know how long the silence lasts until kourai decides to break it.

"i knew it!" he says, slamming the velvet cloth covering the long panel table. the sound brings you out of your daze. "i knew something was going on between you two."

you think there's no possible way this situation can get worse, but wakatoshi nods in agreement, which brings about an onslaught of hungry reporters asking questions left and right. you take this as your cue to rush in and call off the presscon.

"is it true?"

"how long have you two been dating?"

"did kageyama-san really ask you out?"

you drown them out to the best of your abilities, ignoring the less than kind and backhanded questions directed towards you. tobio looks into your eyes as he passes by you in the line of players you're ushering off the stage, but you quickly avert your gaze.

"we'll talk later." you mouth.

after gathering their belongings from the locker room, the team piles onto the bus to head back to their home court. tobio settles into one of the seats near the back, saving the window seat for you.

he waits, watches in anticipation as you step inside the bus. you catch his pleading eyes right as you're about to take a seat in an empty row on the front.

you try to resist. really, you do. but you've never been the best at denying tobio. for more times than you care to admit had you been the subject of teasing by the team for entertaining each and every request that tobio makes.

so you sigh, before making the long walk to the back of the bus.

tobio allows you to scoot inside after helping you with shoving your backpack inside the overhead compartment. the bus springs to life right as you take your seat, engines silently roaring as it begins the trip back home.

a moment of silence passes before tobio takes your hand in his.

"i'm sorry." he says, dragging his thumb over the lines on your palm with each syllable.

"are you really?"

tobio pauses, almost contemplating. "you'd feel better if i didn't answer that."

a quiet laugh falls off your lips. of course you already knew the answer to that. tobio has always been unapologetically open about what he wants.

screw his old teammates for going with all his demands.

tobio's ministrations on your hand doesn't stop. in fact, it grows more frantic by the second. lazy movements turn into his thumb rushing back and forth against your skin. it means he wants to ask you something, and he's hoping this will silently convey his question.

"i'm not mad." in an instant, his worries are quelled. you move closer to lean your head on his shoulder. he plants his head on top of yours.

your limbs melt into each other until you're not sure where you end and tobio begins.

"but you didn't have to say that, you know. hirugami was handling it." you give him a light nudge.

"they were asking if you were single," tobio scoffs, turning his head so he can nuzzle his face against your hair. he breathes you in. your scent overtakes his senses until the only thing he knows is you. that you are his. "i think i have the right to answer that."

"god your publicist must hate you." you roll your eyes. "our boss must hate us right now too."

"don't care." he pries himself off the crown of your head, leaning down to latch his lips on your jaw.

tobio leaves one kiss, right at the very edge. you tip your head to the side so he can leave another on the flesh of your neck. he's about to plant a kiss just above your collarbone when wakatoshi chimes in from the seat in front of you.

"it's not very appropriate to make out on the bus."

you jump away from each other, cheeks flushing red now that the entire team's attention is on you. but you can't find it in you to care enough to tell them off. the hollering and the teasing matters less than the fact that you have tobio, right by your side.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[creamflix]

christmas event looks so kewl! can i have sukuna + mistletoe (naughty) please? 😽😽

you’ve received a gift! ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ want your own gift? ・:〃➜ click here! 

SUKUNA has never understood your fascination with christmas. 

the baubles, the garlands, the lights strung across the tree — it all seems excessive and nonsensical to him. when he catches you draping the tree with shiny ornaments, your tongue peeking out in concentration, he’s half-tempted to ask if this is some kind of sacrificial ritual. 

but he keeps quiet. mostly because watching you enjoy yourself so thoroughly feels... oddly satisfying.

the mistletoe, though? that’s where things get complicated.

he first notices it dangling from the ceiling in the entryway. you don’t bother explaining it, brushing past with a knowing smile, leaving him to squint suspiciously at the strange green plant. 

“warding off spirits?” he mutters to himself. “what kind of pathetic charm is this?”

of course, his assumptions are shattered after an admittedly frustrating deep dive into google, of all things. the man searches everything from “green thing christmas ceiling” to “magic christmas plant meaning” before finally landing on an answer. 

and when he learns the truth? his mood sours instantly.

a kiss. it’s some absurd tradition that demands he kiss you underneath this thing. 

you’re his; he doesn’t need some ridiculous plant giving him permission. but then again... maybe it’s not so bad if it’s an excuse to remind everyone else of that fact.

the next time you catch someone entering a room under mistletoe, sukuna is already there, arms crossed, posture tense. his crimson gaze flickers between the plant and the unsuspecting victim like a predator sizing up its prey.

“don’t even think about it,” he growls lowly, stepping deliberately into their path. his presence alone is enough to make them reconsider, slinking away without so much as a glance in your direction.

“suku!” you scold, but your amusement betrays you.

“don’t ‘suku’ me,” he snaps, scooping you into his arms and positioning you directly under the mistletoe. “you think i’m going to let anyone else get near you? this is my right.”

his lips claim yours in a possessive kiss, fierce and unrelenting, as if marking you all over again. and when you pull back, breathless, his lips merely shift to your jaw, trailing downward in a heated path.

“sukuna,” you murmur, half-laughing, half-scolding. “that’s enough! it’s just a silly tradition.”

“no,” he grumbles, hands sliding to your waist and tugging you closer. “it’s a tradition that involves my human. and if some stupid plant demands it, i’m not going to stop at one kiss.”

his lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, and you can feel his sharp teeth scrape teasingly against your skin. one of his hands creeps beneath your shirt, splayed warm and possessive across your back.

“kuna, stop! your hands —”

“my hands are exactly where they belong.” his voice is a low rumble, a mix of defiance and desire. but he finally relents, letting out a dramatic sigh as he pulls away, though his hands linger at your waist.

“fine. you win. for now.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re impossible.”

“and you love it.” his smirk is smug, but there’s something softer in the way his thumb brushes against your hip, his gaze lingering on your face.

truthfully, he still doesn’t understand half your human traditions, but if they involve you — your laughter, your blush, your kisses — he supposes they aren’t so bad.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[wandaslittlelove]

Obsession

Pairing: Ingrid Thorburn x Reader Warnings: Dark themes!!!! Kidnapping, stalking, Ingrid being delulu.

Currently obsessed with all of Aubrey's characters.

Ingrids obsession for you started like all the others. She had found your account on Instagram and immediately started liking all your stuff. Then she started commenting. Mainly little things asking where you got a shirt or what your favorite item from your favorite coffee place was. Then the following starts.

She sits at your favorite bakery waiting for you to come in and when you do she sneaks little photos of you. Follows you home and sneak in. and then she begins talking to you.

It was in the bakery that she first approaches you. Your getting ready to pay for your items but she quickly steps in and pays them herself. You fumble over your words as you thank her. She thinks it's adorable. From there she gets your number. She texts you every day and you both have even made it a thing to grab coffee together on Wednesdays. She tells herself that this is different. That your different from everyone else. She tells herself that you'll stay.

Ingrid quickly realizes a couple months into your friendship that she's in love with you. From the way you smile when she walks into the room, the way you can make so many people laugh, the way others look up to you, she's in love with it all. She had been breaking into your house more recently mainly when you were asleep. She tells herself its just to make sure your safe. That it's okay because you told her she could come by whenever.

As you lay sleeping one night she grows bolder. Your laying peacefully on your side with your blanket bunched up around you. She walks to the side of the bed and crouches down. Her hand slowly reaches towards your face and brushes some hair away. When you stir she quickly pulls back her eyes wide with fear but she calms down when you seem to settle. Bringing her head up she places a gentle kiss on your head muttering "I love you".

When the new restaurant down towns open up that you haven't been able to stop talking about she decides that's how she'll ask you out. You were basically begging her to take you. Looking at her with puppy eyes that made her melt.

The dinner started out nice. Ingrid was being extremely sweet and even told you she was paying for everything. You tried to argue but she told you that she wasn't going to let you pay. Half way through dinner was when she made a move. She stuttered for a second as she grabbed your hand from across the table. She looked into your eyes and asked you to be her girlfriend. She was so confident you were going to say yes. After all you both were basically already together. She was only asking you to be polite. She wasn't prepared for you to turn her down though. Saying you both worked better as friends. Her hands fell to the side as she clenched and unclenched them. She didn't understand. She thought- No she knew you felt the same way about her. You must just be scared. So she smiled politely and let you think that she was okay with it. But when she walked you back to your car a cloth made it's way over your mouth and nose. Ingrid whispering comforting words into your ear. "Shhh it's okay. Your okay." before you passed out.

When you woke up you noticed you were on a bed. The room was dark and your head was pounding. You groaned as you tried to get out of the bed but noticed something or someone holding onto your waist tightly. That's when you noticed the small breaths on your neck. Your body stiffened as you remembered what happened. Ingrid.. she had kidnaped you. You try to move out of the grip again and go to kick your legs off the bed but stop when something yanks your foot back. You couldn't see because of the darkness but you were guessing she had tied your foot to the bed.

You stiffen once again as feel her move behind you. Her mouth planting a few kisses on your neck as she pulls you back against her.

"Go back to sleep, baby" She whispers as she pulls the blanket higher around you both. Her hand starts rubbing small circles on your stomach as she tries to coax you back to sleep. You didn't understand what was going on or why she was doing this. She had to be crazy you had to get out of there.

[apricitae-world]

NO MATTER WHAT

M!Rafayel and F!Reader one shot. "Tailwag Moment" inspired fanfic.

Content includes: SEXUAL CONTENT, SLIGHT MENTIONS OF BLOOD, praise kink, light bondage, unprotected sex, creampie. All characters in this fanfic are consenting adults. Proceed carefully and do not attempt to recreate these situations in real life.

Would you like to help me bring more content like this? Or request a prompt? Try tipping me on Ko-Fi:

Comments are appreciated. The fanfic begins below.

Rafayel cheated at Kitty Cards. And then he did it again. On the third time, you swatted his hand away from the colourful cups and he had the nerve to look displeased.

"I don't cheat!" He complained. You glared at him across the table, and your side of the board hissed at his. The sound made your boyfriend sit still and delay his plans. For a time.

After his - ahem - unconventional methods, Rafayel snatched the victory. "Another win for the great Rafayel. It's not easy being the best, you know?" He approaches you and nudges your shoulder. You don't respond, clearly upset.

"One day, your bad decisions will bite you in the ass, and I will laugh at you when it happens." The shock on his face is evident. "What? Oh please, what is the worst that could possibly happen?"

It was just a game. It was supposed to be the time the both of you could unwind. Taking a deep breath, both of you get ready for bed in his studio. Tomorrow was your day off, and the best way of starting the day was to sleep until late.

You were sure it was a little past midnight. Rafayel began pushing and pulling at the covers, first complaining it was too hot and then too cold. He got up to close the window to your left, but changed his mind soon after. The world was dead silent, yet Rafayel paced around the house grumbling and complaining.

Your boyfriend was no stranger to bouts of inspiration, so you just let him be and get tucked inside the (little of what was left) of your part of the covers. You wake up one more time during that night, when the sky begins to shift into a beautiful baby-blue to the sound of something getting knocked over. Repeatedly.

"Baby, is everything okay in there?" You palm at his side of the bed, finding it cold. "Y-yeah, it's perfect!" There was a sign of nervousness in his voice. Probably having your seaweed snacks again. You can give him hell about it later.

Your plans of sleeping until late morning were, surprisingly, not interrupted. In fact, the house seemed empty when you woke up. You look for Rafayel in the (many) bathrooms, in his inspiration bathtub and actual painting studio, across the living room and the corridors. Sometimes a purple head vanished right when you enter a new part of the house, but there is no answer when you call his name.

"Raf, I'm not mad you ate my seaweed snacks." No response, but you had a nagging feeling the house was holding its breath. "Okay, I was mad yesterday when you cheated at Kitty Cards, but it's okay now. I love you."

You were ready to look somewhere else, but a faint whisper finds you first. "No, it's not." Getting up from behind a pillar, Rafayel's brown ears twitched in the sunlight, with an elegant tail swaying with his steps.

Catboy Rafayel.

Whatever you were expecting was instantly swept away when you looked at his beautiful new form. Before you can control yourself, a laugh erupts. "I can't believe it, you're a -"

"Don't say it!" He interrupts with a pout. "It's because you cheated last night! I knew your plans were short-lived!" His cranky face got - somehow - even bigger.

"How could this have happened to me? Cats are malicious creatures after all." You approach him and give him a tap on the shoulder. Before you can realise, he already grabbed your non-dominant hand to hold both his shoulders more strongly.

"It's okay. Whatever happened is temporary. I bet you will be back to normal by tomorrow morning." This seems to have calmed him down. He closes his eyes and guides your hands to his ears. They twitched when you spoke and you could feel the warm pulse beneath when you touched them.

"You don't mind? That I'm a cat now?" He begins to purr. It was a rare sight to see Rafayel without his trademark banter. This cat transformation seems to have made him really insecure. "Of course not. In fact, I think you look gorgeous like this."

You move your hands to his tail, feeling the movement. He whines when you do, and you see his human ears get flushed pink with the treatment. "Does my kitty like this?" He whines again. "D-don't call me that..."

"Why not? How will I let you know you're doing great for me?" He squirms in your arms, and sharp iridescent claws come out of his well-manicured nails. The tip of his index fingers draws blood in your palm, and he seems more scared than you are. "IamsosorryareyouokayIdidn'tmeanto-" You both separate a little, and you take a good look at his erection, face flushed and chest heaving.

"It's okay." You reassure him. "Maybe it's just a lot at once. We can stop here and continue once you are back to nor-" "Tie me." He concluded.

Heavy silence permeates the studio before you absorb his words. "You want me to... tie you up and keep going?" His long tail hits the floor like a whip. "Yes."

You go into your shared bedroom to get one of his fancy ties. The moment you open the drawer, a heavy body throws you into the bed and kisses your mouth fervently. "Why did you leave me? You don't want to be close to me anymore?" Rafayel pants in your mouth.

"I was just going to grab a tie, my love. I'm not going anywere." He seems satisfied with your answer and uses his blunt, human nails to lift your shirt and take hold of your waist. You wrestle with him on the bed, getting on top and tying his wrist to the headboard. "Stay there, I'll make you feel really good."

You undress him and he writhes against his constrains. One last check to see if the fabric isn't too tight against his skin and you proceed. "Doing so good for me. All flushed and needy." He shakes his head. "I'm n-not. I don't know why I'm like this." You distribute caresses across his skin, and you can see the red tip of his dick twitch under the stimuli.

"It's okay, Rafayel. You can tell me about what's bothering you." You begin to take off your own clothes, and his eyes are filled with lust. "Why didn't you stay with me? I want to be with you all the time, but I also want to give you space but you were going to forget about me and I tried and-" You gently put you index finger over his lips.

"Oh darling." He whines. "I'm sorry for not noticing your needs earlier. But I promise I will make it better now, okay?" He nods eagerly. You begin prepping yourself, starting through your clit, gathering moisture and following to your hole. "Oh God I need you sooo bad." He starts blabbering. One finger feels so good already, when you add your second you're bouncing up and down.

'I think I'm ready." He gulps at your words. Precum slides through his pretty shaft. It would be a stretch, but you don't want anything more. When you touch his tip he screams and his claws are out again.

"Come on baby need you right now please inside please I-" You slide a little bit more and he almost cums from the feeling. Slowly but surely you go all the way. You are both panting by the time it happens.

"I am going to start moving. Is that okay, my love?" He responds with a chant of "please" and "yes" and "oh gods". As you move, he moans loudly. Even after voicing his needs, it still feels like he is hiding something. "Rafayel." You get his attention. "Tell me what you want."

It looks like a dam being released. Tears stream down his face and there is sweaty hair all across his forehead. "Pet my ears it feels so good love me stay with meee." You can also discern the "fuck me" in between his request, so you oblige.

Your mouths meet halfway, kissing with voracity. You slam your body up and down while a hand flies to his ears. Screams can he heard all across your shared home. He was so sensitive - and honest - like this. You change the pace to something a little slower and whisper in his ear. "I love when you are like this. Don't you love it too, Raf?" He nods unabashedly. "Then don't hide this from me. We are in this together." He agrees and you think you (lovingly) tortured him enough.

"My good boy." The reaction was almost instantaneous. You were so close to an orgasm, and his lovely sounds and the feel of his cock releasing inside you almost took you there. A few more moves and you release too, using his dick to ride out your orgasm while Rafayel smiles hapilly despite the overstimulation.

It surely took some minutes for both of you to return to your sound minds. You release him from his binds and he immediately begins kissing you. You also litter his body with kisses as far as you can reach.

"I love you." He opens his eyes, ready to ask another question. " Yes, I will love you no matter what you become. And, most importantly, I won't ever forget you, okay?" His mouth closes and you two snuggle closer together.

Beside the bed, forgotten amidst all the shenanigans of the day, lays two cellphones with over ten missed calls each. The contact reads "Thomas". That is, surely, a problem for human-Rafayel and his precious bodyguard.

[thunder-wolf64]

Ugh okay I'm about to get very not silly.

Content warning for: Sexual Assult, Body image issues, self harm, probably some depression.

Hmm. I want to talk about this incase I can give strength to anyone else. I know my problems are not as bad as others, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and it's not valid.

Ive mentioned my fear of small children, I've mentioned really not liking a family friend (to a point that being forced to stay in a cabin with them made me feel so bad I dug my nails into my skin and scarred my arm and hand)

This all partly relates to one incident many years ago. I dont remember how old I was? Must have been earlier middle school?

The family friends I'm referring to have a son. He's a lot younger than me. He's neurodivergent in some way, he doesn't have the best idea of social anything.

I was staying at the family friends' cabin, my family and theirs. There was a guest cabin. I had just taken a shower to clean off the lake water. I was standing in the guest cabin looking at myself in the mirror by the beds, brushing my hair. I had major body image issues with good ol' puberty. I hated how I looked and i felt shameful when my shirt clung to my chest extra tight. I knew I would dry off more, and it would be less form fitting. I thought i could just stay in the guest cabin until then.

Then all the little kids, the boy and my two sisters, burst in, chasing each other around as kids do. I was still brushing my hair.

Something immature boys find funny is the word "boobs" he laughed at me and kept repeating the word. I adjusted my shirt as best I could I wanted to tell him off, but I was scared I would get in trouble if I made him upset.

I went back to looking in the mirror and brushing my hair. He ran past, giving my boob a poke as he sprinted out the door, my sisters in tow. That was it. That is what the warning was for. A touch. Over in a second.

I was panicked, I didn't know what to do. I sat on the bed for awhile, crying and thinking of what to do. It felt like forever. And as embarrassing as it is to say... at that time in my mind I felt as if it was my fault, as if I had a sign pointing to me saying "touch me". And with that in mind, I calmed myself down, told myself i wouldn't say anything, and walked back to the main cabin.

And when I walked in, it was tense. The boy was getting a talking to from his mother, and mine walked over to me.

She asked me if i was okay.

I said I was fine, confused. Thinking its not like he shoved me, punched me, hurt my physically. My mind did not corelate the emotional anguish rushing though my head as I felt even more shame that people knew. that they had told on themselves somehow.

I was not okay, i am still not okay. And it really sucks. I can't blame everything on one incident. But oh man can I corelate a lot of my problems with that incident.

Tight clothes made me feel like scum. Ive only ever worn sports bras that leave me with terrible chest pain. I still cant stand a tight fitting shirt, a v-neck. I can't stand my feminine traits. Because that's what got me into the mess in the first place.

Something so small can mess you up so much. And I'm sick of not acknowledging it. Everyone has forgotten or said nothing. And I feel like I'm going crazy.

So if you made it this far, your struggles are valid. Your feelings are valid. No matter what happend, everyone takes things differently.

And i don't know if I'll can call this sexual assault, but it feels like it was, and that's what should matter.

Everyone stay safe

[sturn777]

HEYYYYY!! CAN U PLS WRITE SMTH AB DEALER READER SEEINF FB CHRIS POST W ANOTHER GIRL?? AND SHE DOESNT RLLY HAVE A RIGHT TO BE MAD CAUSE THEYVE JS BEEN HOOKING UP FOR A WHILE, BUT SHE STILL IS. AND HES ALL CHILL AB IT AND ITS PISSING HER OF.

dealer!reader getting jealous . | ( female!reader ) wc ?? ( library ) + ( request )

lana's note : hi anon 🤍 !! hope i did ur ask justice <3 currently going thru all reqs and trying to cook smth up !

꒰ა " you claim you know me better than i know myself, you're right . " ໒꒱

you’re lying on chris’ bed, scrolling mindlessly through instagram as the faint scent of weed drifts through the cracked window. he’s next to you, leaning back against the headboard, blunt between his fingers, looking like every bad decision you’ve ever made wrapped up in a hoodie and sweatpants.

you weren’t planning to scroll, but the glow of your phone and boredom got the best of you. that’s when you see it—a post from him, a mirror selfie with some girl hanging off his shoulder, with her silky hair and her too-perfect nails tracing along his hoodie like she owns him. the caption? some dumb, cocky line about the “night being young.”

you don’t even realize your jaw is tightening until chris shifts beside you, his voice cutting through the haze. “yo, what’s up with you?” you glance at him, then back at your phone, a sharp scoff escaping your lips. “nothing. just funny how some people don’t know how to act.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “oh, we throwing shade now? that about me, ma?”

“who else would it be about?” you snap back, shoving your phone onto the bed and crossing your arms. your bratty tone doesn’t even phase him—it never does. chris takes a long drag from the blunt, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “so, what, you mad ‘cause I posted a pic? girl’s just a friend. ain’t that deep.”

you roll your eyes dramatically, turning away from him like you’re above this conversation. “please. i don’t care. do what you want.” he laughs, low and rough, leaning over to pluck your phone off the bed and wave it in your face. “nah, you definitely care. look at you, all pouty and shit. cute.”

“you’re insufferable,” you mutter, grabbing for your phone, but he pulls it out of reach, smirking like he’s enjoying every second of this. “yeah, but you like it,” he shoots back, his free hand trailing lazily over your thigh. “c’mon, ma. don’t get all worked up. i’m right here, ain’t i?”

you glare at him, but his hand keeps moving, brushing against the hem of your shorts, his fingers warm and deliberate. god, he’s so cocky, so annoyingly laid back, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. “still mad?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, his lips brushing against your jaw as his hand slides higher.

you hate how easily he gets under your skin, how he can flip the script with just a touch. “you’re so full of yourself,” you whisper, but your breath hitches as his mouth finds your neck, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“maybe,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice smug as his hands tug you closer, “but you’re still here, ain’t you?”

and just like that, he’s got you again, tangled up in him, forgetting all about the stupid post and the stupid girl because right now, it’s just him and you, and that’s all that matters.

taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss )

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Lost in the Stacks

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

AU: Coffee Shop Owner Steve x reader

Warnings: none just Robin and Steve things

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I was very passionate about my Stevie boy so take this long fic :) (I’m slowly getting use to writing more- bear with me-)

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The bell above the door jingled softly as you stepped into The Upside. The café-bookshop hybrid was a warm refuge from the gray skies outside, its wooden shelves lined with books, mismatched armchairs tucked into cozy corners, and the smell of coffee and baked goods filling the air.

Behind the counter, Steve Harrington was wrestling with the espresso machine. His dark green sweater hugged his frame in a way that made you linger for a second too long, and his hair looked as effortlessly perfect as ever.

“You’ve gotta finesse it, Harrington. Not scare it into submission,” Robin Buckley teased, grabbing a cloth and wiping the counter as she passed him.

“I don’t scare it—I tame it,” Steve retorted, though the machine sputtered indignantly, making Robin snort.

“Hey, you,” Robin said, looking up and spotting you. “Back for more of our famous customer service?”

You laughed, setting your bag on the counter. “Obviously. Where else can I get entertainment with my coffee?”

Steve glanced up, his expression softening when he saw you. “Hey! Usual?”

“Please,” you said, smiling. “But no rush. Looks like you’re in a heated negotiation over there.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, this thing hates me. I think it’s personal.”

Robin leaned over conspiratorially. “It is. And it’s winning.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin as he busied himself with your order. Robin gave you a sly wink before walking off to restock pastries.

It wasn’t just the books or the coffee that kept drawing you back to The Upside. It was Steve, with his clumsy charm and easy smiles, and Robin, whose sharp humor always made you laugh. Together, they made the place feel less like a shop and more like a second home.

Months ago, you’d stumbled into The Upside for the first time, drenched from an unexpected rainstorm.

Steve had been behind the counter, towel in hand before you could even ask. “Rough day?” he’d asked, his grin warm and teasing.

“You could say that,” you replied, wringing out your hair.

“Well, you’re in the right place. Best coffee in town. Also, books. You like books, right?”

“I think you’re supposed to ask that before recommending them,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

“Details,” he said with a wave of his hand. “What’s your usual? Or do you want me to surprise you?”

Before you could answer, Robin piped up from where she was shelving books. “Don’t trust him. He once made me a ‘surprise drink’ that tasted like dish soap.”

Steve scoffed, though his grin never wavered. “Ignore her. She’s bitter because she’s not the favorite coworker.”

“I’m your only coworker!”

That first visit had stuck with you—not just because of the cozy atmosphere but because of Steve’s awkward charm and the way Robin’s sarcasm balanced it out. You’d started coming back regularly after that, finding excuses to linger a little longer each time.

Over the weeks, your visits to The Upside became a steady routine. Steve always greeted you with a smile that seemed reserved just for you, and Robin never missed an opportunity to tease him about it.

One afternoon, Steve handed you a book along with your latte. “This just came in. Thought you might like it.”

You glanced at the cover, touched by the gesture. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll let you know what I think.”

Robin smirked as she passed by, muttering, “Smooth move, Casanova.”

Steve shot her a look, cheeks flushing.

Another time, you brought in a stack of books to donate. “Figured they’d get more love here than on my shelf,” you said.

“Great taste, as always,” Steve said, flipping through the titles.

Robin leaned over the counter, stage-whispering, “Just ask her out already.”

Steve glared at her, but his lips twitched with the ghost of a smile.

Steve leaned against the counter, pretending to focus on the list of inventory Robin had scribbled earlier, but his attention wasn’t on the task at hand. His eyes kept drifting toward you, seated at one of the tables near the window with a cup of coffee in front of you and a book in your hands.

The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated your features, catching in your hair and making you glow. You were engrossed in your book, an occasional smile or furrow of your brows giving away your thoughts as you read. Steve couldn’t stop watching, his heart pounding in his chest at every subtle movement you made.

Robin, sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the counter as she sorted through a box of new arrivals, didn’t miss his distracted expression.

“Oh my God, you’re doing it again,” she said, snapping her fingers at him.

Steve startled, straightening up. “Doing what?”

“That thing where you stare at Love like she’s the lead in some cheesy romantic movie,” Robin said, gesturing dramatically toward him.

Steve frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m not staring.”

Robin gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. “Oh, really? Because you’ve been ‘not staring’ at her for, like, ten minutes now. You’re lucky she hasn’t noticed.”

“She hasn’t noticed, right?” Steve asked quickly, panic creeping into his voice.

Robin rolled her eyes. “No, Steve, she hasn’t noticed. She’s too busy living her life while you’re over here acting like a lovesick puppy.”

“I’m not a lovesick puppy,” Steve muttered, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

Robin snorted. “Right. You just can’t stop staring at her because… what? You’re admiring her reading posture?”

Steve glared at her but didn’t respond.

Robin grinned, leaning forward. “You like her.”

“No, I don’t,” Steve said automatically, though he knew it was a weak denial.

“Please,” Robin scoffed. “You so like her. Don’t even try to deny it, Harrington. You’ve been crushing on her for weeks, and it’s getting painful to watch.”

Steve groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine, okay, yes—I like her. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Robin said, her grin widening. “So why haven’t you done anything about it?”

“Because I don’t want to screw it up,” Steve admitted, lowering his voice. “What if I ask her out and it’s weird? What if she stops coming here?”

Robin’s expression softened, though her teasing tone remained. “Steve, listen to me: Love likes you. Trust me on this one. She laughs at all your terrible jokes, she lets you recommend books, and she spends way too much time here for someone who’s just into coffee and novels.”

Steve hesitated. “She might just… like the shop.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. She likes you. It’s so obvious. You’re just too chicken to admit it.”

“I’m not chicken,” Steve shot back, though his defensive tone only made Robin laugh.

“Really?” she said, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “Then why do you freeze up every time she walks over to talk to you?”

“I don’t freeze up!” Steve protested.

“Uh-huh,” Robin said, clearly unconvinced. “Look, Harrington, you’ve got two options: keep doing nothing and torture yourself, or grow a pair and talk to her like a normal person. Your choice.”

Steve groaned again, slumping against the counter. “Why do you have to make everything sound so dramatic?”

“Because it is,” Robin said with a smirk. “This is your big moment, Stevie. Don’t blow it.”

Steve sighed, stealing another glance at you. You were still focused on your book, completely oblivious to the conversation happening just a few feet away.

Suddenly, he straightened up, a thought popping into his head. “Wait… I have an idea.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Steve gave her a look, his fingers tapping nervously on the counter. “I’ll just… give her coffee. On the house. You know, as a little gesture.”

Robin’s eyes widened in amusement. “Wait, that’s it? You’re gonna give her free coffee? Wow, Harrington. Such a bold move.”

“Shut up,” Steve muttered, but a smile tugged at his lips. “It’s something.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky she likes you, because this is honestly the most anticlimactic thing I’ve ever heard.”

But Steve wasn’t listening. He was already making his way to the counter, clearing his throat before calling out to you, who was still absorbed in your book.

You looked up, smiling at him in that warm way that always made Steve’s heart skip a beat. “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey, Love,” he said, already fumbling with the coffee machine. He was trying to look cool, but his hands were shaking just a little.

“Can I get you a refill?” he asked, focusing more on the machine than on you.

Your eyes softened, your smile widening. “I was actually just about to ask for one.”

“Well, it’s on the house today,” Steve said, trying to sound casual but feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “For you, Love.”

You blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. “Oh, wow. Thank you! That’s really sweet of you.”

Steve just nodded, still trying to avoid looking directly at you, as he poured the coffee into a fresh cup. He handed it to you with a nervous grin, which you returned.

“Anytime,” he said, voice a little more strained than he’d intended. He stepped back toward the counter, fighting the urge to keep staring at you.

Robin, of course, didn’t miss any of this. From across the room, she gave Steve an exaggerated thumbs-up and mouthed the words, You got this, making him groan internally.

You were already sipping your coffee, and Steve allowed himself to look at you again for just a second. You seemed genuinely pleased, the warmth of your smile making him feel lighter.

“Don’t back out, go for it” Robin says as she pats him on the back before going back to fixing the shelves.

It was a slow Tuesday afternoon at The Upside. The warm light streaming through the shop’s tall windows highlighted the specks of dust dancing lazily in the air. Steve was behind the counter, pretending to reorganize the coffee syrups but really stealing glances at you as you browsed the fiction shelves.

You had a small smile on your lips, your fingers brushing over the spines of books as you debated which one to pick. Steve thought you looked beautiful—effortlessly so—and it made his stomach twist in knots every time he saw you.

Robin, perched on the stool near the register, noticed his distracted glances and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Steve, if you stare any harder, you’re going to set her on fire,” she whispered, leaning toward him.

“Shut up,” Steve hissed, his face immediately heating.

Robin grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Harrington. This is painful to watch. Just go over there and ask her out already.”

Steve shook his head quickly, his voice low but insistent. “I can’t just… I don’t know if she even likes me like that!”

Robin rolled her eyes, hopping off her stool and leaning her elbows on the counter. “Are you kidding me? She comes in here all the time. She laughs at your dumb jokes. She even lets you recommend books—and you have terrible taste in books.”

“I do not!” Steve protested.

“You do, but that’s not the point. The point is, she’s obviously into you. You’re just too chicken to see it.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get a word out, Robin stood up straight, clapped her hands together, and said loudly, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Your head popped up from behind a shelf, a book in hand. “Yeah?”

“Can you come here for a second? Steve has something he wants to tell you.”

Steve froze, his face draining of color. “Robin!” he hissed, wide-eyed.

You walked over, your curiosity piqued. “What’s up?”

Robin smiled innocently. “Steve was just saying he—”

“Needs help with the espresso machine!” Steve interrupted, practically jumping in front of her.

You blinked, clearly confused. “You need my help?”

Robin snorted, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Nice save, Harrington.”

Steve glared at her before turning to you, his cheeks flushed. “No, I don’t—look, can we talk for a second? Alone?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, but you nodded. “Sure.”

Robin gave Steve a smug grin as she stepped away, muttering, “You’re welcome,” under her breath.

Steve led you toward one of the quieter corners of the shop, away from prying eyes (and ears). He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly nervous, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Okay,” he started, exhaling deeply. “So, uh, this is going to sound kind of dumb, but—”

“It’s not dumb,” you interrupted gently, giving him an encouraging smile.

That seemed to give him the courage to continue. “Right. Well, I’ve been, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now. But I kept chickening out, and then Robin decided to, you know, stick her nose in, because that’s what she does.”

You laughed softly, which made him relax a little.

“The thing is,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I really like you. And I’ve been wanting to ask you out, but I wasn’t sure if you’d… if you’d even want that.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. “You like me?”

Steve nodded, his cheeks a little pink. “Yeah. I do. A lot. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s totally fine, I just… I had to say it.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, and Steve’s nerves seemed to spike.

“Love?” he asked cautiously.

You smiled, your voice soft. “I like you too, Steve.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” you said, laughing. “Why do you think I keep coming back here? It’s not just for the books or the coffee.”

Relief and joy washed over his face, and he let out a nervous chuckle. “Wow. Okay. That’s… that’s good. Great, actually.”

“So,” you said, taking a small step closer, “are you going to ask me out properly, or do I have to do it for you?”

Steve grinned, his confidence returning. “Right. Would you, uh, want to go out with me? Like, on a date?”

“I’d love to,” you said, your smile bright.

Robin, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping from behind a shelf, popped her head out with a triumphant smirk. “Finally! Took you long enough.”

Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Robin!”

You just laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. Steve peeked at you through his fingers, his embarrassment fading when he saw how happy you looked.

“Guess that means I should start planning something great,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.

“You’ve got this, Harrington,” Robin called from across the shop, giving him a thumbs-up.

Steve shook his head, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

Steve had picked you up just after sunset, his car rumbling to a stop outside your house. You’d stepped out the door wearing something simple yet thoughtful, a soft smile on your face as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Wow,” Steve said, his voice soft, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment too long. “You look… amazing.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thanks, Steve. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Yeah, well, I figured I’d try to impress you.”

The car ride was filled with lighthearted conversation and a bit of nervous laughter, both of you falling into an easy rhythm despite the fluttering nerves. Steve drove you to a small, tucked-away diner on the outskirts of town, a place he’d discovered during one of his many aimless drives.

“It’s not fancy or anything,” he said as he held the door open for you, “but they make the best burgers in Hawkins. And the milkshakes? Life-changing.”

The interior was quaint, with vinyl booths and a glowing jukebox in the corner. The smell of sizzling food was inviting, and the soft hum of chatter created a comfortable atmosphere. Steve guided you to a booth near the window, where the glow of the streetlights outside cast a warm light over the table.

The conversation started light—books you’d recently read, Steve’s stories about running the shop with Robin (“She’s like a tornado, but I wouldn’t trade her for anyone”), and the little quirks of Hawkins.

“Okay, serious question,” Steve said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Pizza,” you replied instantly. “Easy.”

“Solid choice,” he said, nodding approvingly. “But you haven’t lived until you’ve tried the waffles from Benny’s. We’re talking top-tier breakfast food. You’ll see—I’ll take you there sometime.”

The way he said it so casually—like there would definitely be another date—made your heart skip.

By the time the food arrived, you were both relaxed, laughing over Steve’s high school antics.

“So you’re telling me,” you said, trying to suppress a giggle, “you actually styled your hair for gym class?”

“Hey,” he said defensively, though his grin gave him away. “It’s called priorities. And anyway, it worked. My hair survived dodgeball.”

“Barely,” you teased, taking a sip of the milkshake he’d insisted you try. It was, as promised, incredible.

Steve reached for his own shake at the same moment, knocking his hand against yours. The cup tipped slightly, and a streak of chocolate landed on the table—and on your sleeve.

“Oh no,” Steve groaned, grabbing a handful of napkins. “I’m so sorry. This is why Robin calls me a walking disaster.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s fine. Really. Chocolate’s a good look for me.”

He glanced up, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. “You’re taking this way too well. Most people would be plotting revenge by now.”

“Maybe I’m saving it for later,” you teased.

After dinner, Steve suggested a walk to help you “digest” (and maybe work off the milkshake fiasco). The park was quiet, the air cool and crisp as leaves rustled underfoot.

Steve walked beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, occasionally glancing your way as if to make sure you were still enjoying yourself.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I was kind of nervous about tonight.”

“Why?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged, kicking a small rock along the path. “I guess I didn’t want to screw it up. You’re… different. In a good way. I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Steve, it’s been perfect. Milkshake disasters and all.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “Yeah? You mean that?”

“I do,” you said, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet around you.

When Steve walked you to your door, the nerves he’d managed to shake off earlier crept back in.

“So,” he said, rocking on his heels. “This was… really fun.”

“It was,” you agreed, smiling.

“I, uh, I’d like to do it again sometime,” he said, his voice hopeful.

You nodded. “I’d like that too.”

For a moment, it looked like he might leave it there, but then he stepped closer, brushing a soft kiss against your cheek. “Goodnight, love”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

As he walked back to his car, a little bounce in his step, you leaned against your door, already looking forward to the next time.

The next time you walked into The Upside, the bell jingling above your head, Steve’s grin was a little brighter. And when Robin saw the way he looked at you, she just smirked.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[bread-that-draws]

Sorry not to be insane about fictional characters again but like. Nimona’s big “monster” scene. How she realizes nothing has changed. How she discovers her “allies” were willing to turn on her the moment there was a reason to do so. How her roar is an anguished scream. How something as simple as a kids commercial about slaying monsters, something nobody else even bats an eye at, causes so much pain. How what she turns into is so unlike her usual shifting. How the director was ready to destroy innocent people to get rid of her. How it didn’t matter to the director if innocent people got hurt just to get rid of this “threat”. How the director, just as capable as hurting people, isn’t the one demonized. How this moment has been quietly building up the whole movie, even though she brushes it off, even though she pretends not to care (how she seeks out a supposed murderer because he may understand her, how an arrow to the leg isn’t a big deal to her, how she plays up the “monster” stereotype but hates being called one, how her first breaking point is a little girl showing the same generational hate that Gloreth showed, how she always explained what she was as Nimona). How done with all of it she is. How she gives up. “I see you”.

How Nimona is such a fucking queer story that it makes me explode

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?

[fingertipsmp3]

Have we learned nothing. Have we truly learned nothing.

[pennjammin]

your panties scare me, can i take them off?

pov. you got new halloween panties/pajamas and he’s about to lose his mind.

content: implied smut, breath play (toji), virgin!choso, sexual content (MDI), husband!nanami, breeding kink (nanami), roommate!gojo, afab!reader

incl pairings: choso, nanami, gojo, toji

word count. 2.1k

soundtrack 💿🌧️: sex on sight ft. usher

Choso.

"Mmh..."

You lay on the bed, entangled in burly arms and the scent of aftershave. Your boyfriend is attacking you in sloppy kisses, all down your neck and jaw, as screams beam out of the TV from the horror movie you'd stopped watching about ten minutes ago.

His hand roams dangerously over your side while your nails dig into his back for stability. The two of you have yet to take things as far as penetration, so it’s all you can do to fight back the urge to whip his cock out and plop down on it.

You wonder if tonight things are going to finally change, as you feel your panties grow damper, and Choso's cock digging into your stomach through his sweats.

"Why do we always do this?" Choso breathes. “We start a movie we can't even finish."

You laugh against him before it melts into a moan at the reminder of his wet lips. "Because I don’t like scary movies, Cho. ‘M so afraid.”

Choso grunts against your skin, "Really? How can i make you feel better?”

You huff and roll onto your back. Choso doesn't waste any time climbing over you, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You can start by taking my shorts off,” you instruct, eyes filled with lust as you stare up at your ebony-haired partner.

He pauses his kisses to look down at you in surprise. "Y-You want to...?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip. “Don’t y’wanna comfort me from the scary monsters on the TV?”

Choso nods eagerly, and his big hands come up to your waistband to begin pulling down your shorts. As the material slides over your thighs, he pauses and stares with furrowed brows, right at your underwear.

"Um, baby?" he cocks his head to the side. "Who is... V.S.?"

You let out an exasperated breath before smiling. "That stands for Victoria's Secret, Cho. It's a lingerie brand."

His eyes bulge and he looks back up at you, "Lingerie?"

He continues to slide the shorts all the way off, to reveal your blood red thong with a tiny white ghost on the front. You suspect the ghost is supposed to look like a glob of cum, and you imagine Choso’s in its place.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, "you wore these f'me?"

"Who else, Cho?" you run your hands over your stomach seductively, patting the top of the thong. "You like?”

Choso's eyes flash white, and he hooks his fingers over the skinny string that keeps the thong around your waist.

"Shit, I..." he swallows thickly. "Love them. You have more like this?”

You nod confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see them one at a time.”

You wink and Choso’s nervous hands remain entangled in the strings of your thong. “What if I can’t please you?”

"Not possible," you shake your head, running your hands into his hair, grateful he’d taken it out of its pigtails for his shower. "I nearly cum every time we make out."

His eyes widen. "Oh, so it's not just me," he breathes out in relief.

You giggle and spread your legs a little more, your lips threatening to pop right out of the terribly small pair of panties.

A girl shrieks on the TV and there is the sound of a slashing knife.

You fake a shiver, "Oh, Cho! I'm so afraid. Mmh, hurry and make me feel better.”

Choso smirks and rips down your panties, knowing that the neighbors are going to think someone is really being murdered by the time he’s done with you.

Nanami.

"Excuse me, my love."

You turn in place to see your husband, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom as you brush your teeth.

"Hmph, yes?" you mumble around your toothbrush, your face heating in the same way it always does when you see him, no matter how long you’ve been together.

Nanami stands awkwardly in the doorframe, shifting his weight like a nervous child. He's in his own version of pajamas: a white shirt, plaid pants, and house shoes. His hand raises and he points to your legs.

"When did you acquire those?" he asks delicately, referring to the tiny orange shorts you have on that are patterned in bats.

"The shorts?" you mumble, before removing your toothbrush and spitting out the toothpaste. "Um, I got them yesterday while costume shopping with the kids. Why?"

Nanami laces his fingers together. "I just thought I'd seen all of your clothes, because you always try them on for me. You didn't..." he inhales a ragged breath. "You didn't show me these. Is there a reason?"

You nearly feel your heart shatter through your ribcage. Nanami clearly looks distraught that you failed to give him a fashion show. At the same time, you notice his pajama pants growing a friendly tent in them, and you suspect you know the real reason he is upset.

"I... wanted it to be a surprise, Ken," you say, pat drying your mouth on a washcloth, before walking towards him, all minty and shower fresh.

"A surprise?" Nanami questions, visibly getting tense as you approach.

"Mhmm..." you tiptoe your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. "You like them?"

"That's a very loaded question," Nanami mutters. "I like anything you wear."

"But these seem to be having a different effect on you, honey," you coo, tilting your head to the side, resting your hand on the back of his neck - his sweet spot.

You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "They’re really… small. And we, you know, can’t do things as often anymore with the baby… I just miss you.”

You sigh, relaxing under his touch. “Right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Nanami lets out a feral noise. "No, I’m not. I feel like a horny teenager. Just need you really bad.”

“I haven’t seen you this desperate in a while, honey,” you say, taking a step back, letting your hands fall off of each other. "Go ahead. Take them off.”

Nanami doesn't hesitate. His big hands gently peel down the waistband, and he bites his lip as he examines what’s underneath.

"You're not wearing underwear," he realizes with a breath. “Gonna make me lose myself here, Y/N.”

"Well, I was thinking..." you cock your head to the side. "One more baby wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Nanami's eyes grow a bit larger. “D-don’t say that.”

“Know you’ve been trying so hard not to finish in me,” you coo, “but don’t you miss it?”

“Y/N…” his knuckles go white as he nearly rips the material of your little shorts. “We really shouldn’t.”

"No, but ngh..." you roll your hips under his hands. "Wouldn't it be fun to see how feral we can get?"

"I am already ‘feral’ just looking at these shorts, Y/N." Nanami nearly whines, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, waiting for you to give him the word.

"Really," you whisper on his neck, planting a kiss there soon after. "That was easier than I thought.”

Nanami sighs against you. "Why are you so good at this, hm, little minx?"

You smile against his skin, "Why are my shorts still on, Kento?"

Nanami growls, all guttural and primal instinct, and your back is crashing against the counter in an instant.

You bite your lip, "Eager?” you question.

"You have no idea." He hums as he slides down the orange garment, staring at them. "Did you buy any more?”

"Maybe," you say quietly, blinking as you try to picture what he's going to do to you next.

"Good," he parts your legs and stands between them before using his thick hands to open your mouth and shove the shorts right inside of it. “We’ll need these so we don’t wake the baby.”

Gojo.

"You wanna be me so fucking bad!"

You spin slowly in place, holding a piece of popcorn only halfway to your mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Your eyes land on your roommate's bottoms, a plush pair of Friday-the-13th pajama pants. They are exactly like the boy shorts you’re wearing, the ones that have ridden up and cover basically nothing.

"If you wanted to match, you could've just said that," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms.

You raise your eyebrow, "I’ve had these for a long time. You're the one who wants to be like me."

Gojo scoffs. "Why haven’t I ever seen them, then?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And au contraire, madamoiselle, I want to be in you. Huuuge difference there.”

You cough a bit, choking on nothing, unable to respond.

"Of course, choking on my cock could definitely work too," Gojo mutters, examining his nails. "Maybe teach you a lesson about walking around in just your panties."

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard to deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach just from his words. "Please, like I've never done this before."

"And every time you have, you end up bent over, begging for me to take it easier, don't you?" He cocks his head to the side and lets his eyes slither down your body like a snake of temptation.

You bite your lip. "So it’s my fault that you have no self control?”

Gojo nods his head. "Yes, maybe I just wanted to have a nice, relaxing Halloween game night with you... but now you've got me so worked up."

You tap your chin. "You wanted to spend time with me that doesn't involve sex? Seems a little out of character, don't you think?"

Gojo stalks towards you, long feathery strides until he's towering over your frame, eyes threatening to sear your clothes right off of you.

"Oh, you can't get any denser, can you?" he questions. "This sick little arrangement we have, teasing each other and fucking on every surface in the house isn't what I want." He pauses. "I mean, yes, but it's more than that."

You blink up at him. "What else could you possibly want?"

Gojo sighs, and slowly wraps his arms around you in a cinnamon-scented bear hug. "I want to contact you about your car's extended warranty."

"SATORU!" you screech, hitting him on the chest as he bursts into laughter.

"I'm joking, you know that I can't take shit seriously," he runs his fingers through his hair. “For fuck sake, I want a relationship with you, okay? Do I need to spell it out on the lawn?"

"Yes, actually," you tease, sitting your popcorn bucket down and running your buttery hands over his chest. "You want to be with me?"

"Your pussy's too good to let anyone else have you," he hums, leaning forward and kissing your neck.

"You're so annoying," you grit, but you can't help but melt into his touch and kisses.

He chuckles against you but doesn’t respond.

Gojo pulls his head out of your neck and leans towards you, lips parted in expectancy.

Your eyes flutter closed just as your mouths collide, this kiss feeling different than the hundreds that had come before it. You lean into him and grab the drawstring of his pajamas, while his fingers are also subconsciously twisting into your boy shorts.

"Mmh, can't get enough of you," Gojo mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle. "Good thing I'm yours now. There's plenty of time to reach all of me."

He breaks away from you and stares down in astonishment. "Really?"

You nod, tugging him closer by his pants. "So, about that game night..."

"Eh, it can wait, we have some celebrating to do." He grins, and before you know it you're being lifted swiftly into the air, hauled over his shoulder with your ass next to his face, as he pops a crack on the soft skin there. "And don't you ever wear these without warning me again."

Toji.

“Why are you hovering? I said sit.”

Your boyfriend is obsessed with you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your cunt and juices, this is nothing new. But this time, he wants to try something a bit more deranged.

You’d just been trying to show him your new panties and matching socks, honest. You may have also been wearing one of his shirts, and this was absolutely his weakness, and you absolutely knew that.

“My shirt, baby?” he’d cooed, pulling you into a hug and planting soft kisses on your face. “New panties too? You spoil me.”

It wouldn’t be long before he was lifting you up, effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying down on it. Then, before you had the chance to squirm or run, he was gripping your sides and lifting you over his face, where you caught your weight with your knees.

“Toji, they’re still on,” you mumble, his hands gliding up your sides to hike up his shirt. He stares directly between your legs which causes your clit to twitch.

“So?” he questions from below.

Thick hands mash into the crease of your hips, forcing your weight to fall down on his wide nose and full lips.

Your face turns the color of beets, but you ultimately have no time to be embarrassed as Toji locks his arms around your thighs.

His eyes have fluttered closed, and you can feel his shuddering breath through the cloth as he takes in your scent.

Your hands are on the headboard for stability, looking down at him, feeling your panties grow damper as he wiggles his face around, nose brushing your clit.

“Toji approved,” he says suddenly, before you feel his fat, warm tongue slide along the material of the panties, and your body lurches.

“Wh-What…?”

“I can still eat you through your panties,” he huffs, eyes popping open and catching you staring down at him. “This was the plan all along, puss.”

Your thighs shudder on either side of his head. “You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack, baby,” he mumbles, before flicking his tongue over the cloth again, nose massaging your clit, hands burying deeper into your skin. It’s all so much, you moan and rotate your hips over him.

“Wh-what made you want to try this?” you ask, biting your lip as he tugs on the material with his teeth, taking in another animalistic sniff.

“You looked so proud to show them off,” Toji grunts. “It’s a shame that they were only going to end up on the floor, huh?”

You have to agree. You’d stopped buying lingerie long ago because it would never last more than a few seconds around Toji, but you figured a new pair of panties couldn’t hurt. You just hadn’t expected this reaction out of him.

Besides, you can’t deny how good it feels to dry hump his face, there only being a thin barrier between your folds and his wet tongue, making it all the more a tease.

From then on, it became a regular tradition for Toji to “approve” your new holiday panties - but of course, the halloween ones remained his favorite.

A/N:

im sorry for pumping out these shitty short ones but im just trying to keep yall fed while we wait for the long ones ^.^

~pennjammin

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

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