#second pic is him trying to get a read on you
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dashing-disaster · 2 days ago
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Bad Beer and Naked Rodents
Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!
also on AO3
“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”
Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.
“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.
“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in
” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”
“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a 
 horn?
“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”
“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.
“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“
“Hey!”
“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”
“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.
They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.
“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”
“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”
“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.
“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”
“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”
Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.
“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”
Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.
“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”
Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.
“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”
Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.
“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.
“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”
“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”
Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.
“I’m 8.6.”
Silence.
Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.
“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”
Tommy groans.
“God, I hate you.”
Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.
As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.
“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.
“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.
How forlorn he feels.
“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”
Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.
“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.
And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.
And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”
Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.
“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”
Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.
 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.
And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”
Tommy bursts into tears.
It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.
It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.
Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.
Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.
Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.
Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.
He’s silent. Waiting.
Tommy takes a breath.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.
But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.
It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.
Hope.
For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.
A minute passes. Two.
Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.
Evan steps aside.
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neiptune · 9 hours ago
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this town is fake but you're the real thing
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cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets
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Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.
An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.
“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.
“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.
“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.
Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.
“She met Motoya”.
Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.
“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.
With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.
“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.
“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.
“I talk—”
“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.
“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.
“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.
“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.
“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”
“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.
So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.
Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it. 
The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.
Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.
Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.
There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.
Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.
Lavenderhaze
-> Hi.
Lavenderhaze
-> How are you?
He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.
crysnoopy
-> hey. all good, wbu?
Lavenderhaze
-> Good, bored.
Lavenderhaze
-> Should we exchange nudes or something?
Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.
A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?
He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.
Unfinishedusernam
-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?
Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.
crysnoopy
-> I don’t shower.
A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.
Unfinishedusernam
-> That’s hot.
-> Why the username?
Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.
crysnoopy
-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.
Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)
-> Lowkey thought you were an incel
This time he really does snort out half a laugh.
crysnoopy
-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fair. So
 you do shower, right?
crysnoopy
-> I promise I do.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.
-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks
Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.
crysnoopy
-> likewise. wanna make it official?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first
Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.
He accepts it.
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It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.
They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.
Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.
But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.
He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.
Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.
When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?
Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.
Unfinishedusernam
-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!
-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)
-> [IMG_65209]
Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.
crysnoopy
-> I’m at training.
-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?
He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.
He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.
Unfinishedusernam
-> It was nice! I love spending time with them
-> How’s training?
Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.
He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.
crysnoopy
-> [IMG_65209]
-> Almost done, very tired
He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.
“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.
“You okay?”.
“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.
“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.
“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.
“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.
“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.
“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.
Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.
“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.
“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.
“Sure we are!”.
“I’m serious, you ass—”
“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.
It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.
Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.
The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.
Unfinishedusernam
-> You have really nice hands
He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.
It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems
 unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.
“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.
“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.
“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.
“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.
She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.
“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.
“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.
Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.
The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.
Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.
Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.
Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.
Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.
Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Still at training?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.  
Unfinishedusernam
-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep
Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.
crysnoopy
-> Just got home
-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)
His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me
crysnoopy
-> No I don’t?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.
-> [IMG_98279]
A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.
crysnoopy
-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair
-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.
Unfinishedusernam
-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?
Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.
crysnoopy
-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers
When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Knew it. Flirt.
-> Can I ask you something?
crysnoopy
-> Ask away
Unfinishedusernam
-> Why are you on this app?
He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.
crysnoopy
-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know
He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Do you think you could open up to me?
Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.
crysnoopy
-> Maybe
-> I’d like that.
He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, heïżœïżœïżœs okay with simply letting you know.
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Osaka ends up being extra motivating.
The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.
Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.
When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.
As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.
“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.
“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.
“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.
Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.
“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.
“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.
“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.
“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.
“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.
“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.
“I feel like
 you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.
He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.
He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.
“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.
“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.
“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.
“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.
“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.
On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.
“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.
“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.
“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.
“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.
“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.
“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.
“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.
“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.
“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?
“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.
“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.
“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.
“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.
“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.
“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.
“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.
Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.
“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.
I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.
Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first the Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.
His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.
It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.
miyatsumu brothers ❀
Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.
He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.
His phone pings again.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Osaka!!!!
-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?
crysnoopy
-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon
Unfinishedusernam
-> Your friends are also athletes???
-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening
-> [IMG_62371]
Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.
crysnoopy
-> Looks like a perfect evening to me
Unfinishedusernam
-> I only walked 200 steps today.
crysnoopy
-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say
-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?
-> Stop surviving, start thriving?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner
He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.
crysnoopy
-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?
Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Yeah?
crysnoopy
-> I feel that too
-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person
Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Why do you think that?
crysnoopy
-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave
-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me
-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?
Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.
Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.
Unfinishedusernam
-> How did you meet your current friends?
He furrows his brows.
crysnoopy
-> Most of them I met in school
Unfinishedusernam
-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time
-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)
-> You can always work on what you want to improve
crysnoopy
-> You make it sound too easy
Unfinishedusernam
-> Sometimes it really is tho
-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them
Unfinishedusernam
-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away
-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal
Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?
His phone pings again.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to
-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol
-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder
Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Still there?
crysnoopy
-> I’m here
How could he not be?
crysnoopy
-> Thank you
Unfinishedusernam
-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)
Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.
crysnoopy
-> Mysteriously comforting
-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Nah
-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me
crysnoopy
-> That sucks for them
It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?
Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.
He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.
Unfinishedusernam
-> That’s sweet of you to say!
-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster
-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now
crysnoopy
-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time
Unfinishedusernam
-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you
Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.
Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?
Unfinishedusernam
-> This dinner fucking slaps btw
-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka
-> It’s called onigiri miya
Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.
Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.
“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”
“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.
“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.
“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.
“Really? Did she like it?”.
“Osamu”.
He chuckles lightly.
“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.
Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.
“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “
 along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.
There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.
“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.
“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.
“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just
”.
“Put something together for her”, as you always do.
“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.
“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.
“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.
“Yeah?”.
“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.
“Tell her what?”.
“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.
Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.
“Samu”.
“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.
“I think I like her”.
“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.
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Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.
Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much
-> Would you tell me if I was too much?
crysnoopy
-> What do you mean?
Unfinishedusernam
-> You know, if I was pestering you
crysnoopy
-> You’re not too much
-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)
You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.
And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I wish you were here
-> I’d probly just kiss you
Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.
He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.
crysnoopy
-> I want nothing more
-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?
It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.
As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.
Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.
You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.
crysnoopy
-> Killer headache town, population: me
crysnoopy
-> How are you feeling?
crysnoopy
-> Hey, everything ok?
crysnoopy
-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.
-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it
crysnoopy
-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.
-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me
crysnoopy
-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days
crysnoopy
-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.
He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?
Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.
The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.
But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.
It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw
Unfinishedusernam
-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)
Unfinishedusernam
-> Today was shit
-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days
Unfinishedusernam
-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working
Unfinishedusernam
-> I feel so slilly
-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?
Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.
And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.
“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.
The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.
“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.
“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.
He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.
When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.
Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.
He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.
Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.
He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.
Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.
“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.
“I’m trying”.
“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.
It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.
-> No worries, I’ll find the house.
The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.
“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.
Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.
“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.
“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”
“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.
“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.
“You
 what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?
“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.
Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.
“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.
For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.
“Suna?”.
“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.
“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.
“What now?”.
“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.
“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.
“I kinda need to use it now”.
“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.
“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.
“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.
“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.
Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?
“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.
“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.
“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.
“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.
“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.
“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.
“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”.
“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.
He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.
“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?
Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.
They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.
His neighbor (could it be
???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.
“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.
“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.
He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.
Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?
He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.
Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.
A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?
He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.
“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.
“None of your business. Lock the door”.
“Sure, sure, bye”.
“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.
You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.
Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.
As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.
Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.
What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.
You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.
“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.
“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to
 hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.
You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.
“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.
“No, no
”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.
“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine
 amusement?
“I need to tell you something”.
The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.
“Sure
?”.
“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.
It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.
“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.
It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.
“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.
“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one
 I should be
”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.
“Please don’t cry”.
“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.
“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”
“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.
“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.
Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.
You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.
“Are you disappointed?”.
You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.
“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But
 what now?”.
Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.
He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?
You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.
The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.
crysnoopy
-> Now we do this right.
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arn359 · 2 days ago
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Wine is waaaay to worse than i imagined😭😭😭. I will blame all the fic that i read about him and make like he was a nice guy. The fact that i will immediatly shoot the other au without question if he meet them is insane. And the way he always want more power and he will always try to manipulate the king . Also poor coffee😓.
Anon, I’m using your ask to ramble about Wine. And it’s too long
. So i think i will put the rest under the cut. After the pic.
I haven’t read much of fics that have Wine in it. But with so little information about him, the way it scattered around and languages barrier. I understand that ppl may have different view of him, also is the setting of the fic. If it’s on the surface, i guess he could be better???
But there’s a thing about FSG(Fellswap-Gold) being set in communist theme , Wine being the head of the royal guard, AKA he the head government. Idk about you guys, but for me. Any head government of a dictatorship system could never be a nice guy. NEVER. IT’S UNACCEPTABLE.
Though, you guys can have fun, just don’t forget it exists in real world. And even thought it’s not real. Propaganda exists, so is the media effects.
I summarized some of the timeline in the second pic (The art is based from the creator)
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I hate Wine so much, but here i am defending him(?) nope just explaining my insight. (i still haven’t read the setting with proper translation , so this is my headcanon from what i understand)
Wine will immediately shoot other AU.
It’s both Gaster and the system that made him that way. He’s born to be the best solider. He trained hard, deem to be love by Gaster but Gaster only see him and Coffee as tools. After Wine feelings toward Coffee became ‘his only family’ Wine wants to protect Coffee. Wine changed to rely on Coffee being relied to him. Wine betrayed Gaster cuz Gaster want to get rid of Coffee.
Wine is a conservative, because that what the system always is.
So Wine will shoot other AU immediately because for the system. AU is see as threat. The AU would bring new possibilities and that’s against the conservative view that is to continue the old/current system.
(The dictatorship and conservative control the knowledge of their citizens. Keep their knowledge low so it makes them easier to control. Risks of having the AU be seen by citizens is not good. Citizens can’t see new things, can’t have more knowledge of other AU, can’t know that world with freedom exist. So the AU is see as threat)
But of course, Wine is not really a full conservative as we seen in some settings about him, like Wine doesn’t discriminate toward Undyne&Alphys, Wine support Grillby and Muffet interracial wedding. But the system, the time(their au set in old period), and social. Also is the way he grow up, the way he need to be ‘the best’. It rooted too deep into his mind. And it show with what he said toward Coffee.
Yes Wine always seek power.
Because he’s a coward. Wine felt loved when Coffee relied on him as a child. But when they grow up, Wine still think that way to the point of unhealthy. Because he feared of being alone and lost his only family. And because of the system in underground is like that, he needs power to stay safe. To stay alive and hope that the thing he fears the most never come true. So it lead to seeking powers.
Wine for me, he’s a coward, he fears and the only way he knows how to ease those fears is to have more power.
Kinda words these badly, cycling nonstop. But it’s really just the way it is. Cycle. The system can't be changed. It needs to be perished.
Yes
. Poor Coffee
he also has a problem
 but that’s for another time. Another post
 the bairnrot hitting me bad

These information are from @/fsg-settings go check it or you can see my post and a link to my doc i collected all the information in one doc and used google translated on them. So you can just read there. Or maybe opening the web would be easier?
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dizzybizz · 11 months ago
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npc shopkeeper-ass doggy. he sells things he finds outside.
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sugume · 9 months ago
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BORED N’ IGNORED w/Jujutsu Kaisean
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( TW ) f!reader, explicit content, bored!Sukuna & Toji, Ignored!Gojo & Choso cunnilingus, thigh riding, blow job, humiliation, face fucking, fingering, reader snaps a pic of gojo and sends it to her friend, sub!Choso or is he just a pleasure dom
?
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso Kamo + Toji Fushiguro 
authors note: I re-wrote this like 10 times so pls ignore any mistakes. also, me posting everyone but Geto on his birthday is criminal...
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☟ CHOSO KAMO 
“Haha! I got the kill! Finally,” You cheer. “Oh shit, someone's chasing me.” You move your controller, focused on getting yourself to safety, ignoring your boyfriend who's underneath your desk eating you out like a starved man.  
Choso just wants to make you cum. He knows he's in the doghouse for what he did last night so he’s trying to make it up to you. He didn’t know you were going to treat him like some common whore though. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s eating you out on the cold hard floor. He wants to scream but he knows you’d be even more angry, so he makes it his mission to make you cum so hard you have no choice but to talk to him.  
He sucks your clit harder, rubbing his fingers inside your gummy walls. You clench around them but show no sign on the outside that you’re about to cum. He knows his girl though. Knows you better than you know yourself. He smirks into your clit. 
“Shit—oh fuck—they won’t get off my tail—oh my god!” You scream at the game, trying and failing to mask your pleasure. Choso adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you good you almost drop the controller on his head.  
Choso picks up the pace, sucking on your clit so hard he’s scared he might leave a bruise—and finally, you acknowledge him.
“m’gonna cum! Choso!” you cry, reaching down to pull his hair as you cum all over his face.
☟ RYOMEN SUKUNA 
“Look at me!” You cry, kissing up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth You go as deep as you can before gagging. You pull back up and suck on his tip. You look up at Sukuna who doesn’t even look affected, staring at the TV. You dig your nails into his thighs. He doesn't react. 
“Kuna!” You scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look down at you. He stares at you with disinterest. “What?” 
“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” You hiccup, sitting back on your knees and grabbing his cock. You squeeze it. 
“You want my attention little one?” He grins down at you. You sniffle and nod, bending down to kiss the tick of his cock. He pats you head and you almost cry in relief.  
“Oh, so damned touch starved—upset ‘ve been ignoring you? I apologize little one. I'll make it up to you.” He grabs your head with both hands, guiding you to his cock. You open your mouth and take him in again. He grunts, pushing you to the hilt even as you gag and try to pull yourself up. He lifts your head back up before slamming it down on his cock. You claw at his thighs. “Giving you all my attention now. Gonna face fuck you ‘til you don’t remember your fucking own name.” 
☟ GOJO SATORU 
Satoru holds onto your thighs as he pushes his leaky cock into you. He needed this so bad after the day he had. He didn’t even pay mind to what you were doing before throwing his clothes off and climbing onto the bed. 
“Fuck—Feel good, Angel?” Gojo questions as he thrusts into you from his place above you. You don’t hear him though, too busy texting your friend about the latest drama that happened in your friend group.  
“Angel, did you hear me?” Satoru moves his hands from your waist to your tits. He pinches hard. You grunt, the grip on your phone wavering. Satoru’s harsh thrusts distract you for a second before you come back to your senses and read your friend's text. ‘Why are you making so many spelling mistakes LOL?’ You grin, clicking the camera and turning it to Satoru who looks down at you half angry and half pussy drunk. You snap a blurry picture of his sweaty abs and V-line before clicking send. Your friend laughs. 
“Angel,” Satoru whines grabbing your phone. “Stop treating me like some crapy dildo machine!” He holds the phone over his head with one hand, the other holding you down by the tummy. 
“Toru! I was having an important conversation,” You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He grunts his heavy hand on your tummy moving to squeeze your side. “Please, baby? Just gotta send one more text then I'm all yours—promise.”  
☟ TOJI FUSHIGURO 
You hold onto Toji’s bicep as you ride his thigh. You grind your pussy harder onto his leg, making sure your clit drags over the hard material of his pants. You moan and look down at the dark patch your slick is making. 
“Can you quiet down princess? Need to finish this application and you're distracting me.” Toji says, erasing the sentence he knows is incomprehensible. You moan louder. Throwing your head back and arching your tits up in his face. He grunts, turning to the side to rewrite his response.  
You huff, if he wants to play like that. "You better not ask me to get you off later today.” You grumble, moving your own hands up to twist and tug your nipples. Your legs tighten around his thick thigh. You feel yourself getting closer.  You grind down harder, pussy clenching around nothing.  
“Gonna cum! Ahh—feels so good, you feel s’good!” You slur, legs shaking as an orgasm washes over you. You slump down against Toji’s big chest. Toji’s face heats. He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on that you just came all over his thigh like that. He grumbles something inaudible, bringing a hand down to grab a handful of your ass as he presses submit. “Oh, you’re fucking on princess.” 
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sleepyjuice · 4 months ago
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toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.
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you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.
rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something
rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with
rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t
rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK
rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.
rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.
you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.
three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.
you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.
sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe
you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.
you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.
rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)
you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too
rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby
you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.
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moonsgemini · 2 months ago
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cherry wine - firefighter!rafe
* ✼ ⋆ ËšïœĄđ–Šč â‹†ïœĄÂ°âœ© ੈ✩‧₊˚àŒșâ˜†àŒ»*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✼ ⋆ ËšïœĄđ–Šč â‹†ïœĄÂ°âœ© ₊˚ ⋅
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summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.
warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut
an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad
masterlist - part two
* ✼ ⋆ ËšïœĄđ–Šč â‹†ïœĄÂ°âœ© ੈ✩‧₊˚àŒșâ˜†àŒ»*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✼ ⋆ ËšïœĄđ–Šč â‹†ïœĄÂ°âœ© ₊˚ ⋅
This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.
The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.
Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.
Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.
“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.
You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”
She nodded, “Barely.”
You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”
She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”
“Agreed.” You nodded.
That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.
Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”
That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.
“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.
“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”
You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.
Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.
He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.
You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.
“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.
-
The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.
This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.
Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.
As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.
Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.
-
The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.
He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”
He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.
You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.
“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.
Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.
“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.
His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.
You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”
“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.
“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.
He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”
You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”
“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.
You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.
He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.
“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.
“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.
That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”
She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”
“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.
-
“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.
You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.
“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.
“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.
When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.
It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.
“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.
You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.
“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.
She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”
You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.
“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.
“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.
You smiled softly, “Hey,”
Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.
“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.
You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”
They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.
“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.
“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.
He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”
You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”
Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”
He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.
You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face
“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.
Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.
-
Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.
It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.
He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.
Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.
Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.
You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.
As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-
“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.
Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.
He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and
You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”
“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”
You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”
He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”
Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.
“I guess we were then,” You hum.
“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”
“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.
He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”
“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.
He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”
You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”
He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”
That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”
He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”
His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.
“So how would you treat me Rafe?”
God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.
His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”
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lewisvinga · 10 months ago
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get his ass ! | lando norris/the grid x fem! reader
summary: y/n was loved among the grid, quickly gaining the title of ‘the mother of the grid’ due to her motherly nature. but when a famous football player says he’d like to take her on a date in an interview, the boys are quick to defend her.
fc; maria isabel
warnings; kinda suggestive pics , curse words
notes; requested! this came later than expected lol, been super tired after a long road trip and was out all day w poor connectionđŸ˜©đŸ„Č don’t mind my lil football reference đŸ€­đŸ€­ also second pic of the interview was meant to say pretty at the end but it was called off lol😞
masterlist !
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 940,038 others!
yourusername: pov: single mother after a day full of chasing and taking care of her 5 grown children on the paddock
tagged; landonorris, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussell63
username: MOTHER IS BACK ON THE PADDOCK
username: i want u fr
landonorris: ‘single mother’ who am i then?😕
yourusername: a grown child who asks me to ‘pretty please’ wipe the grease off of his pizza😁
landonorris: it was disgustingly greasyâ€ŠđŸ€ą
username: LMFAOOAOAO
username: a single mom who works 2 jobs who loves her kids
yourusername: they get on my nerves all the time but i love my grown children 💓
logansargeant: sorry mom
yourusername: you and osc are an exception
alex_albon: oh, wow!
oscarpiastri: 😁
georgerussell63: you trying to say something, y/n
.
yourusername: yeah give me carmen
carmenmmundt: i agree!
georgerussell63: wait-
username: you need to open a youtube channel!
username: your fit on the paddock ate today đŸ˜©
username: the picture of alex and logan w the snake 😭😭😭😭
username: can always count on y/n for content
yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; baby’s nap time 😮] [caption 2; taking my sons out for lunch đŸ«¶đŸ«¶] [caption 3; my new child, surprise! it’s a boy!💙]
Jude Bellingham answers your fan questions!
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,503,028 others!
landonorris: all mine.
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: lando norris
. i thought you’d post this on your jpg account

landonorris: nope😁
yourusername: could’ve been worse thank u
yourusername: all yours. forever. đŸ«¶
landonorris: always.
username: so y’all saw jude’s interview too

username: caption was 100% aimed a jude
alex_albon: can i tag him pls
yourusername: no.
landonorris: yes!
yourusername: no or i won’t take you to get kbbq tmrw
alex_albon: sorry lando
username: alex’s comment😭
username: oh wow
username: the 2nd, 4th, n last picđŸ„ŽđŸ„ŽđŸ„ŽđŸ„Ž
username: their relationship isn’t a want it’s a NEED
logansargeant: oh!
yourusername: look away pls😞😔
landonorris: no keep looking so you and every other athlete knows she’s mine 😁
username: jealous lando omg đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«
maxverstappen1: take that tap in merchant!
carlossainz55: yeah and he won against you guys! put some respect on his name 🙄
yourusername: my football rivalry sons

landonorris: no i agree w max
username: not the culers and merengues of f1 fighting 😭😭
georgerussell63: my eyes!😰😰😰😰
georgerussell63: but that serves him right! y/n is a taken lady!
username: red is HER color, no one can wear read
username: the fit is everything 😍😍
username: need someone to recreate the last pic w 😖😖😣😣
oscarpiastri: i really had to stop lando from posting more exposing pictures, you’re welcome btw mother
landonorris: i had plenty of other ones to choose from

yourusername: thank u osc😭
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daytaker · 10 months ago
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The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them
Lucifer
*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*
If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.
But only if he doesn't need it.
Mammon
"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."
Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.
You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.
Leviathan
"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)
He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!
Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?
After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*
AAAAHHHHHHHHH.
Satan
"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"
Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.
Asmodeus
"Aww, aren't you adorable?"
This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.
Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.
Beelzebub
"Oh."
He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.
But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.
Belphegor
"...zzzz..."
Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...
Diavolo
"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."
It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.
He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.
Barbatos
"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."
He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.
Sleep well, human.
Solomon
"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"
Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.
Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.
Simeon
"Oh- shh. There, there."
Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.
Luke
"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"
How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.
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boyfhee · 5 months ago
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ïč™đ“Čssueïčšă…€:ă…€â€œis your girlfriend single?â€ă…€...ă…€( 엔하읎픈 )
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ㅀㅀïč™1214ïčš ă…€ìž„ë„Ž fluff, humour est. relㅀㅀwarnings light kissing, slight jealousyă…€ă…€áąá—œáą didn't turn out how i wanted these to be but hope you like them nonetheless >< happy reading and pls rb & leave feedback iNDEX
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HEESEUNG
you were out with him and his friend group when the question suddenly pops up, asked by one of his friends who definitely meant it in a fun and joking way, however the frown on your boyfriend's face proves he didn't like it.
it takes him a good few seconds to comprehend the question before he hears you stifle a laugh. he looks at his friend, scoffing bitterly, raising his brows mockingly. “is my girl single?”
“dude it's a jo—”
he huffs before his hands cup your cheeks and make him look at you, pressing his lips against yours for a few seconds to get the point across. “no, she's not.” he speaks with a slight nod, trying to look modest even though there's a smug smile on his lips. “and don't ask stupid questions.”
JONGSEONG
he's confused, for the most part. his eyes refuse to leave the phone screen, going over and over the caption of your post— anniversary post, clearly written down below the pictures where you are sitting on his lap with a cake and he's kissing your cheeks.
‘happy three years to us. i love you, my love’
“are they stupid?” he asks bluntly, looking at you with his mouth agape. everything in that post makes it obvious that you are definitely not single.
“it's most likely a joke, baby,” you say, leaning against his arms with a pout, wishing he would just let it go and pay attention to you. “don't mind them,”
he nods at your words absentmindedly, brows still furrowed at the screen. you roll your eyes, pulling his arms to lay him back on the bed. he quickly sends a ‘no.’ for a reply before putting his phone aside and getting back to you, hovering over you while he has you pinned down, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “you're all mine, yeah?”
JAEYUN
brows furrows, head tilted slightly to the left, eyes wide open in half confusion half surprise. he doesn't understand why anyone would ask that question, because it sounds stupid as hell. “huh?”
“i asked if your girlfriend is single,” the person asks again and you laugh under your breath, knowing that they're probably just pulling their leg.
“she's my soulmate, the love of my life, my other half, anything— but single,” and he knows he's being a bit too much he jake wants to show you off and also make it clear that you're most definitely off the markets.
“jake, that's enough—”
“no? why are they asking if you're single when we're literally walking hand in hand?” continues to explain it to you why that was such a rhetorical question even after that person leaves, doesn't let go your hands until you get home. “should we take a few couple pics to post them, hm?”
SUNGHOON
mad as hell, gives them the most deadpan face ever. well, he introduced you as his dear girlfriend the minute you two walked in through the doors of the restaurant for the highschool reunion.
“she wouldn't date you even if she was,” says with his eyes looking at them up and down with displeasure written on his face clearly. he's not having any of it.
he has his hand on your thigh the whole time you two are at the reunion, giving it soft caresses and light squeezes, never missing a chance to compliment you or even flirt with you when you two have been dating for over a year now.
and when you try to remove his hand or something, he pulls you even closer, mostly because he's enjoying your flustered face. “it's so hard having a beautiful girlfriend,”
SUNOO
it's so serious for him, he's shooting daggers with his eyes, annoyance clearly written on his face. it doesn't escape his gaze how the guy in front of him is checking you out, even though while being subtle about it.
“of course, not. she's with me, can't you see?” it's a sharp reply that clearly shuts them off, and sunoo rolls his eyes, turning his attention back onto you.
you chuckle under your breath, but also composing yourself as you link your arms with him as you two walk away from them. “hey, don't you think that was too much?”
and he laughs softly, leaning his face down to plant a feathery kiss on your cheeks, looking at you with a slight grin. “well, they shouldn't have asked such a stupid question then,”
JUNGWON
he immediately goes silent when he sees that question in the comments of his vlog with you, shooting question marks to the screen with his stares, the embodiment of ‘does anyone else find this weird :/’
“ah, if yn is single?” words actually trail off as soon as they dance out of his mouth while tries to process the question. is it a joke? are they being serious? he doesn't know. “uh, i don't think she is since we're dating. . .?”
he's stuttering and you're next to him, hiding your face while suppressing your laughter because he's so adorable. “wonnie, i'm pretty sure they were just teasing you,”
“ah, okay,” he nods in realisation, chuckling awkwardly while looking at the screen in silence for a few seconds before adding. “we're not entertaining any more questions about yn,”
NI-KI
he shrugs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants, giving them a blank look as if he doesn't know a thing. he cocks his head in your direction, asking cluelessly. “are you single?”
and you shoot him a confused look, blinking blankly as you point your index finger at yourself. “me?”
“who else?”
you continue to look at him in confusion, turning your gaze to your classmate before it lands back on your boyfriend. “i'm dating you, how would i be single?”
riki immediately turns his head to your poor classmate, the smug smile never leaving his face as he shakes his head. “she's not,” and then he simply puts his arms over your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and walks past them, without sparing another glance.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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EVERY INCH 3.
4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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Every inch đŸ”Ș Every inch 2 đŸ”Ș MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge.
A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot.
WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.
You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him.  There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one. 
Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you?  You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock. 
You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while.  He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves.  He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather.  What a pretty pussy you are. Meow.  He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time. 
You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator.  Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin.  He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number.  You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything.  Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?
Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first.  It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy. 
"Mmm, good kitty."
"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too. 
"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."
"Is your cock all you think about?"
He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?" 
You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.  
"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy."  You come so fast it's pitiful. 
You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored. 
You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.
—-----you-------
A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough,  you think.  But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa.  When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens. 
He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform.  He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you.  Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"
The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him. 
"Officer. . ." 
"Call me Javi."
"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him. 
"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you. 
"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"
You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.” 
"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?" 
He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you.  As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing. 
Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood.  A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with. 
Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed. 
You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?” 
Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back.  You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.” 
You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”
“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Keeping you safe.”
—--
You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.
An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down. 
“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what?  “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks. 
“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes. 
You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed.  You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around. 
—--ghostface—-
You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? 
Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits.  He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape.  no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.
—--you—--
The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him.  He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs.  You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough. 
"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw.  Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open. 
“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”
If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly. 
"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist. 
He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.  
You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him.  Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.  
–-
Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh. 
The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you.  The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance. 
always wanted to see you on the pole. 
You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car.  You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it.  As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back.  The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk. 
You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once. 
“My phone,” you tell him. 
He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 
“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours. 
“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him.  You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself.  You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard. 
“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him.  You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit.  Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.” 
He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around. 
“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”
This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride. 
You put your knees on the seat on either side of him.  You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top.  The sheer arousal pisses you off.  He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything.  You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever. 
He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity. 
Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him.  "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter.  You keep degrading him as you fuck him.  "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building.  "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.
When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.
Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number. 
how's the 🍆
A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold. 
"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him. 
"Oh don't stop now, kitty. " 
He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?" 
"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.
You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me,"  then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body. 
"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"
When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back. 
Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down.  The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out. 
"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides. 
"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again. 
"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"  
No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.
"Oh, c'mon, kitty." 
"No," you whimper.
Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds." 
Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight,"  and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums.  You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to. 
"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run.  As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat. 
The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him.  Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants.  He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap.  You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed. 
Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away. 
Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.  
"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you.  He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin.  “Now sit on daddy’s cock.” 
He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had. 
"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him.   "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too.  This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you.  He's still not moving, and neither are you.  Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down . 
Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock."  He feels so fucking good.  Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?"  You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."  
The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest. 
"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'"  You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest. 
His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty." 
You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah."  The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core. 
"Fuck," you whisper. 
He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock. 
"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun.  He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.”  You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again. 
"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him.  Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh." 
As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop. 
He pats your lower belly.  “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."
—
-
Next: EVERY INCH 4
May 2024 update - I have 3 more parts outlined.
-------------------
THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want more parts, reblogs and comments make all the difference.
Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread lol.
if you liked this smut, you could check out raider Joel meanwhile.
Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.
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verstappen-cult · 4 months ago
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ooooo! what about Norris! reader x lestappen and the Miami podium. like being over the moon for her brother but extremely turned on by her boys. :)
hope you are doing well!
You have three reasons — dressed in Mclaren orange, blue and Ferrari red, to be happy.
The crowd goes wild as your three favorite people in the world climb on their respective step on the podium, and you don't waste time joining all the cheering around you.
It's fantastic that your brother has finally won his first F1 race. You think about all those times you two talked about it; all the doubts about himself and the sleepless nights analyzing his driving because "what am I doing wrong?" but he's there now. His dream has finally came true.
But next to him on the second and third step of the podium are your boyfriends, beaming, right where they belong. You're always happy when Max wins and extremely excited when Charles manages to secure a spot on the podium with that Ferrari tractor, which is not as often as you'd like. But in those special moments when the two of them are there, well, that is one of your favorites sights.
Then, all three of them are spraying the champagne and making a mess of themselves.
They look down and all the blood in your body rushes to your face, Charles' wet and blushed face makes your knees go weak — if you weren't leaning against the railing you'd have been on the floor the second you turned your gaze to Max, who's taking his cap off an running a hand through his blonde locks. Both of them wink at you, as if they've planned to make you lose your mind beforehand.
All three of them are rushed out of the podium and you know you'd have to wait a long time to be able to congratulate them.
***
You're too focused zooming in and out of the photos to hear the door opening and the whispers of laughter and conversation.
You don't use Twitter. Not a lot, at least. But decided to pop in there just to see what everyone was saying about today's events. And oh boy, the girlies were having a feast. You avoided all thirst tweets about your brother and liked a few of the ones talking about his hard work and his much deserved win.
But then. But then...
There were just two pictures. One of Charles and one of Max. You didn't even read the tweet before liking it and opening the first pic to have a better look at your Monégasque boyfriend. His eyes are closed while his mouth is open trying to catch a few droplets of champagne. Your heart speeds up when you see his own hand wrapped around his throat.
You have to take a sharp intake of breath the second you swipe left and your Dutch boyfriend's face pops up. He has the balaclava in his hand while the other's in his hair. Just like Charles, he has his eyes closed as the sun shines directly on his blushed face. His lips are swollen and red, just like he has them when...
"Angel?" Charles' voice startles you so much that your phone slides to the floor.
"You scared me!" You try to grab your phone but Max is faster. "Give me that."
Max eyes widen when he looks down at the screen, his picture from today looking back at him. Then, he swipes right and Charles’ smile grows bigger when he looks at himself, realizing what you were doing.
"Thirsting over us, uh?" Max says, jokingly. But you can see the blush adorning his cheeks. He always gets shy looking at pictures of himself taken by people that aren't you or Charles.
"Shut. Up." You stand up from your spot on the couch and walk over to them, wrapping your arms around their respective shoulders, which is a little hard given that they're taller than you. "I'm so happy for you. I couldn't stop crying until you were on the podium."
Charles eyes soften and gives you a kiss on the head. "I'm sure it was a special podium for you, baby."
"Lando invited us to celebrate tonight. Did he text you?" Max says, caressing your forearms.
"Yes, I was talking with him before..."
Max interrupts you, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"Before you got distracted by thirst tweets about us." Your face burns, embarrassed at being caught, and hide against his chest.
"Oh come on!" Charles tickles your sides, making you step back and point an accusatory finger at him. "Show us more of those tweets."
"Uh, no! Are you out of your mind?"
"I want to see what the people are saying about us." He defends himself, walking over to the bed and plopping down with his arms behind his head. His eyebrow-wiggling makes you roll your eyes.
Looking at Max, you ask, "You want to boost your ego too?"
"Nah. I just want to see you get turned on by looking at pictures of us."
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cherrybr4t · 12 days ago
Text
bloody bar — choi seungcheol (m)
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pic cr. pinterest!
pairing: bar owner!seungcheol x fem!reader
about: tis’ that time of the year—seungcheol’s love for halloween translates into him going the extra mile, to bring in fresh faces into his bar in town.
warnings: smut, the world sl*t, smoking (reader), jason voorhees mentioned, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), oral (m.rec), fingering, slight brat taming, praising, creampie, tit playing
wc: 4.2k
—
As quoted in Mean Girls, halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it. Cady has never been more right, you think to yourself as you walk down the busy streets downtown, hand in hand with your other two friends—Yuki and Mona.
Surprisingly, this year, you three are not the exception, clad in sexy renditions of your favourite movie characters. You being Gogo Yubari—but with a tiny skirt and a shirt that seems to be barely holding itself together, Yuki being Mia Wallace, and Mona a ghost bride that keeps attracting the gazes of drunk teens.
Each of you on your second can of highball, arms locked together tightly as you three trudged down the streets to find the bar where the rest of the group is waiting at. Nothing like pre-gaming before the actual pre-game.
“Fuck, I need to pee.” Yuki whines as she downs her remaining highball before throwing away her empty can. A groan rumbles from Mona, which causes you to chuckle. “Looks like there’s a toilet up front over there,” you pondered, trying to get a better look at the building in front of you.
“Let’s go let’s go—I think the bar is somewhere here anyways,” Yuki pulls both of you to cross the road with her, briefly checking on google maps which she has had open for the past 20 minutes.
The building in front of you welcomes the group of you with an open foyer, and you notice the rows of neon lights across every floor of the building, each spelling out the names of different bars that seem to be booming with business.
“Fuck, I can’t hold it in any longer,” Yuki barely finishes her sentence before running off to the restroom at the end of the foyer. You finish up your can along with Mona, before deciding to light up a stick with her while waiting for Yuki.
Meet us at level 3, there’s an open smoking area here.
You light up a stick for yourself as well as for Mona, seeking comfort in the warmth down your system, in contrast to the cold night. Leaning against the wall, your eyes run through the bar fronts staggered on this level, admiring the amount of effort they took to showcase their halloween decorations.
While scanning, your eyes meet a rather...menacing one. A person with a Jason Voorhees mask is staring right at you, leaning against the parapet directly opposite you, while waving what looks like a fake decorative knife—as if saying hi.
You furrow your eyebrows, ignoring the slight scare you felt when you saw the mystery person wave at you. One thing about you—as much as you enjoy the theatrics of being out and about during halloween, you were definitely not the biggest fan of horror movies—especially ones with killing themes where the murderer is hiding behind a sinister mask. (read: Friday the 13th)
You look away, puffing out towards the sky before listening to Mona complain about her recent internship project.
“Hey,”
A deep voice muttered. While you knew it definitely could not be Yuki, nor were you particularly interested in entertaining anyone tonight, somehow your inner instinct brought it upon you to turn to the source of the voice.
The minute your eyes lay upon the man in a black suit next to you—you let out a yelp, jumping slightly and dropping your diminishing stick.
“Holy fuck,” you uttered, hands soothing yourself by patting your chest area. A loud chuckle erupts beside you and you just know Mona is intrigued by this mysterious man appearing beside you two.
The mask looks way more eerie and daunting up close, you can’t help but take a step back—stepping on your dropped cigarette at the same time. He chuckles, and continues to wave his knife while looking at you.
Mona speaks up, letting the man know how sick his costume is, and whatever he utters next gets muffled by your loud thoughts.
Fight or Flight. This is a stupid predicament to be even thinking about fighting or flighting—it’s halloween for goodness sakes. You’re bound to meet 20 more people with the same spooky masks, but at this very moment, you’re not liking the attention from this “killer”.
Flight it is. You grab onto Mona’s hand tightly before dragging her towards the toilet at level 3. Panting as you shut the door to the women’s toilet, you hastily pick up your phone to text Yuki about the change in meeting location.
“Y/N, calm down, it’s just a man in a scary mask that’s all,” Mona giggles as she takes in your slightly frightened state. You roll your eyes, shrugging her off, “and you—will definitely die first in a horror movie.”
“Hey! That’s offensive—we know the first one to die will be—.”
“Guys! I’m right, the bar is actually in this building, on this level actually,” Yuki bursts into the toilet, waving her phone excitedly with a bounce.
Mona looks over at me, smirking before holding onto both of us, “Let the night begin,”.
—
The bloody bar. What an apt name, especially for halloween season.
You squeeze through the crowd on the dance floor before finding the table where your friends are situated at. Loud cheers erupt from the table before they usher you to get more drinks to reach their state of high.
“I’ll go fetch us some drinks—cherry vodka?” Mona and Yuki nod eagerly before holding onto your belongings so you can carry the drinks over.
With the music pumping you up, you made your way to the bar at the back, smiling at strangers along the way—stopped by a girl dressed as The Bride, insisting that you both had to get a picture together.
After some quick snaps, you finally found yourself in front of the bar, alongside a few others waiting for their drink top-ups.
“3 cherry vodka’s please!”
“Coming right up!”
Leaning your elbows on the marbled counter, you hum along to the music playing while tapping your card to the beat.
“Why’d you run away so quickly Gogo?” That familiar baritone runs a chill down your spine and you turn to your right, only to see the same man waving the same plastic knife in your face.
“Well, quick tip. If you wanna hold a conversation, maybe not wave a knife in their face?” You snap back, effects of the mask starting to wear off with the alcohol making its way through your veins.
He chuckles, before tucking away the knife behind him.
“My bad, can I have a do-over with you, pretty?” He reaches out a hand in your direction, which you narrow your eyes at. He wiggles his fingers, urging you to go for it.
Hesitantly, you place your hands in his, eager to be done with just a quick shake of hands. But he’s faster, as he lifts his mask up a little, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he settles a soft kiss upon them.
“This outfit doing a thing on you?” You can’t help but bite back at this man—though he’s done nothing wrong, except looking like a nightmare you may have had after watching Friday the 13th.
“More so the pretty woman that’s in it, rather than the costume itself—though I must say, I don’t remember Gogo looking this
bewitching.” He tilts his head, and you see a hint of his eyes behind the mask.
You snort out a chuckle, “And I don’t remember Jason being this friendly,”
“Only to people he likes, and fortunately for you, you’ve caught his eye,” he leans in closer, and you sniff a hint of bergamot and vanilla.
“Fortunately? I need to be further convinced,” you hum, starting to warm up with the warm banter. You were always a sucker for straightforward guys anyway.
With a swift movement, he removes his mask completely, hands ruffling through his locks to fix his hair.
You were stunned—to say the least. The man in front of you had the prettiest eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer he looked at you, with the prettiest cherry lips and goodness—his dimples. His dimples that seemed to be screaming out to you, to poke a finger in them.
“Seungcheol,” his dimples make an appearance yet again.
You cleared your throat, “Y/N”. You swear you saw a flash of something in his eyes as you uttered your name to the gorgeous man in front of you.
“Y/N
 let me get those drinks for you, yeah?” Before you could protest, he makes a few gestures towards the bartender, before grabbing the drinks and bringing them over to your table for you.
Raising your eyebrows, you scurry nearer to catch up to him, “You’re here often?” You could only assume by the way he has a tab open here, and by judging the chummy behaviour with the bartender earlier.
“Mmm, not quite
sometimes,” he shouts over the music that gets louder nearing the tables and dance floor. Handing over your drinks to you and your friends, words get stuck down his throat as your friends pull you away to the dance floor.
“I’ll catch you later!” You push away the feeling of disappointment, knowing he’ll be around anyway.
Drinks in your hands, you sway along to the music, pulling up with your favorite dance moves with your friends. Throughout, you feel a certain someone’s gaze on you, and with a sneaky glance towards the bar, you see seungcheol leaning on his back, arms crossed with his eyes unabashedly drilling holes in your face.
With an audience, you start to feel a little more bold, swaying your hips in his direction, letting your short skirt flap around, giving him a little show to gape at.
The feeling of being under his watchful eye makes your heart beat along to the bass on the dance floor, and you can’t help but revert your gaze back to him every 5 minutes.
Once he notices you taking a break, downing some water on an empty table, he makes his way towards you. Noticing him, you send him a saccharine smile as he leans down, “Care for a dance? Seems like your friends are busy,” his lips grazed your ear slightly.
Fuck what you said earlier—you could entertain people tonight, especially if it’s a handsome stranger though sent to you in a sinister way initially.
Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod before walking towards the dance floor, looking back at him, only to catch him entranced by your ass already.
You roll your eyes playfully, before catching his gaze. Giggling, you made a come hither motion towards him and he swears his heart is about to pour out in the middle of the dance floor.
ïżœïżœ
He’s seen countless people swimming in and out of his bar, but he’s never encountered anyone as enchanting as you. He thinks he’s sick to his stomach at the wave of excitement and rush you bring to him—just by looking at him.
Seungcheol holds you close, and for someone who believes you can’t find love on the dance floor with musty smells and sticky bodies, he seems to be under a spell—one casted by you unknowingly.
He’d thought he lost a chance when you ran away from his initial approach—but when you strutted into his bar, he had a sudden gyration about the idea of fate.
“Thought I’d never have the chance to see you again, pretty. Can’t lie—when you ran away from me earlier, broke my heart a little,” he can’t help his mouth from expressing how glad he is to be dancing with you right now.
“Can’t blame me—it was kinda creepy, Jason’s not high up in my list of celebrity crushes,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giggling. “And, I’m here right now so—I’d say you have the last laugh,”
“Thanking every God I know for bringing you back to me, feels like Gogo was meant to end up in Jason’s arms tonight huh,” Cheol doesn’t know what’s wrong with him and why he’s appearing like a desperate 20 year old in front of you but, all he knows is that the feeling is mutual.
“Was I?” You start to lean closer, lips barely on his neck and he’s afraid you’d notice how quick his heart rate is right now.
“Don’t do this often but, I’d really like to show you, pretty,” he holds your chin up to look into your eyes.
—
The ride back to seungcheol’s house is filled with tension, with the slight nervousness as you think about the last time you’ve made such a reckless decision.
Somehow this doesn’t feel as reckless—it feels thought out, and pre-determined. As if his house was your final destination of the night all along.
Some jokes are cracked in his black porsche, and you notice how his hands grip onto the steering wheel so tight, it starts to turn white.
As if it were the last day on earth with no time to spare, he doesn’t give you time to admire his luxurious and stunning house, not even the bmw parked beside his porsche.
“Fuck, you’re sure about this right, pretty?” He holds your face close, kicking his door shut.
“Very. Want you to show me
show me why I was meant to end up in your arms cheol,” you whisper and he dies internally at the nickname you’ve given him.
“Okay baby,” he pecks your lips. “Gonna fuck the shit out of you pretty,” the moan you let out at that makes you embarrassed but he kisses you so fervently you know you’re not the only needy one.
“Safeword, need a safeword pretty,” he’s panting with urgency, walking you backwards while his hands are unwilling to let go of your face.
“Pumpkin,”
He giggles, gives you another peck on the lips.
“You’re adorable,” and you whine, letting out a gasp as he suddenly has you in his arms, princess-carrying you down the hallway, into his bedroom.
He crashes his lips on yours the minute your back hits the soft mattress, wanting to just kiss every breath out of you.
“So pretty, fuck, knew i had to get you the minute my eyes laid on you,” his hands travel under your shirt, softly caressing your tummy.
You moan at his confession, “you have me cheol,”.
“Yeah? I do, don’t I. Got your pretty ass under me, all I ever need,” a few movements and your buttons pop open, leaving him to drool over your swells covered by a thin bra.
His eager hands grasp onto your mounds, squeezing and playing so rough till it falls out of its confines, and he immediately gets a taste, licking a bud, swirling a tongue to get it hard and puffy.
“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan, legs shifting and rubbing against each other to find relief in the friction.
“So sensitive baby,” he groans, switching over to suck on your other bud, fingers twisting and pulling on the wet and puffy one. You cry out at the insane pleasure it brings you, feeling crazy that you want him to make you cum just by playing with your tits.
“Want more, need more,” you whine out, legs now tight around his waist, trying to lift your hips up to grind on his clothed bulge.
“Mm baby, be patient, I play the long game—won’t be inside you until you cum on my fingers and tongue.” Though his body betrays him as his bulge grows bigger and harder through his pants. You whine, too lost in the pleasure of rubbing yourself on him.
His grips onto your hips, slamming them back into the mattress to get control of the situation.
“I don’t play nice with brats, baby. Wanna be a good girl and stay still for me?” His warning does nothing but soak your panties even more and you nod, submitting his dark gaze.
“Words, need to hear you baby,” he caresses your chin with his thumb.
“Y-yes, I’ll be a good girl cheol.” He kisses you and continues playing with your tits, cupping them, tongue flicking left and right licking your buds together.
“That’s my good girl, knew you’d listen well to me,” he travels down towards your skirt, eyes hooded as he can’t look away from you. He lifts up your skirt to figure out exactly how much of a mess he’s got you in.
Pushing the thin fabric to the side, his index finger runs through your slit, gathering all your arousal, only to bring it to your face, “look at how wet you are baby, you’re fuckin’ drenched god,” he sucks his finger dry, before diving in with his mouth.
“Let me reward you baby, show you why it’s always worth it to be my good girl yeah?”
He licks up and down your slit, before pushing his tongue in your warm cunt, eliciting the loudest moan from you as of yet. “F-fuuck” you scream out as he starts to lap at your cunt like a starved man.
Removing your ruined panties to have better access to your clit, he continues his way up, tongue flicking that sensitive nub all around before sucking it completely, letting his pretty lips play around with your clit. His eyes never leave your face—wanting to savour every look your face contorts into every second.
“C-cheol—so good so good,” your broken moans encourage him to go on even further, as he pushes a finger in easily, sliding it in and out at a steady pace.
He hits two spots at one go, his slender fingers repeatedly rubbing against that friction pad inside you while his mouth stimulates your clit non-stop.
You start to tremble and shake around him, fingers grabbing onto his locks even tighter than before. He feels you clench at inconsistent paces, and observes the tightening of your core.
“You gonna cum for me baby? Like my good girl?”
Coherent sentences can’t seem to form as you let out strings of curses and moans—along with his name.
“Cheol, cheol, cheol fuck,”
“Yeah baby, I can tell you’re there already, cum for me, show me you’re my good girl,” and with that you let go, legs gripping onto his head so tight, shaking, upper body jerking up as you let out a cry.
He rubs your clit to help you prolong your high and you catch your breath slowly, back slowly touching the mattress again.
“You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum baby, need to see that face again,” he hovers above you again, this time attaching his sinful lips on your neck, wanting to mark you as his so badly.
“Take it off—want you inside me,” you tug at his pants, wanting to feel him wreck you completely.
Chuckling, he grabs hold of your hand, pinning them on top of you. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge baby? Don’t worry, I meant it when I said I’ll fuck the shit out of you,” stepping out of his pants, you feel your mouth water at the sight of his angry bulge pushing against his boxers.
“Wanna suck you off, can I?”
He groans, “fuck baby, how can I say no to that pretty face, c’mere” you crawl on the bed towards the edge where he’s standing, helping him get rid of his boxers.
His cock jumps and you already see hints of precum dripping down his girthy length. Laying flat on the bed, you push your ass up a little to give him a show as you start to stroke him, licking his pretty head softly.
“Fuck—no teasing baby,” he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your pretty face taking in his cock, with your ass—god your ass, he wants to bury his cock in it this instant.
You take him in inch by inch, tongue at the base, flicking around while you swallow him whole. It takes a while, but you soon take all of him in. Moaning at how full it feels, you bob your head, hands playing with his balls, stimulating him even more.
“You’re gonna be the death of me baby, so fucking good to me,” cheol grabs your hair, and starts to guide your head, hips starting to fuck himself into your pretty mouth.
Loud groans erupt from his chest as he feels his tip reach down your throat, the way it tightens and pulses around his tip makes him dizzy.
“Gonna make me cum baby, hold on hold on,” his voice makes you drip more essence on his sheets—his moans together with the sexy chuckle makes you hold your legs together, not wanting to be further embarrassed by how wet you get so easily.
He slides out of your mouth, before instructing you to lay on your back. Grabbing both your legs, placing them on his shoulder before he lines his wet cock on your cunt, gathering all your essence on his tip.
“Hurry cheol—put it in, please,” whining at how empty you feel.
He slams his cock into you, and starts with a pace that makes you scream out at the repeated hits on your g-spot.
“Fuuck—cheol, wait,”
“Told you I don’t play nice with brats baby. You were impatient for my cock—I’m giving it to you now,” his hips never faltering as he continues to pound into you.
“Hhnnngghhm,” you’ve never felt this amount of immense pleasure hitting you so quickly, and all you can do is cry out his name.
“You got what you wanted baby,” he smirks down at you, grabbing onto your ankles tighter as he feels his cock grow tighter at how good you feel around him.
“I-i did, thank you, thank you—fuck, cheol,” you cry out yet again.
“Fuck baby—thanking me for my cock like a good girl now,” he reaches down to play with your clit, wanting to see you crumble before him again.
“I’m your good girl—please,” you throw your head back once you feel the tight circles drawn on your clit. You feel the impending tight feeling down your lower abdomen and you know you’re about to make a mess on his cock.
“That you are baby, fucking my good girl the way she deserves right? Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock baby,” he bites his lower lip, and quickens the pace of his hips and his fingers on your clit. He groans at the sight of white liquid painted on his cock, the ring forming as he thrusts into you.
“You feel so good cheol, so big so full, wanna cum already,” your mind fogs at the pleasure and all you can think about is chasing the high that is about to fall upon you.
“Cum for me baby, cum around this cock like the good girl you are, yeah?” And his voice was the ultimate key to unravel that knot inside you as you feel yourself spasm around his cock, loud cries from you wave after wave.
“You’re gonna make me cum baby, can feel you so tight around me,” you prop your elbows up at his words, moaning at how hot he looks chasing his high inside of you.
“You’d like that baby? Want me to cum inside you? Fuck look at you gripping me so tight even though you just came, so greedy for my cum aren’t you,”
“Yes yes yes, want you to cum inside me cheol,” you whine out, wanting to feel him pump himself inside of you. You beg for it like a broken record and cheol lets out moans and groans before he releases a thick spurt of load inside you, staying still as his cock continues to empty itself inside your warm and tight cunt.
Pulling out, he takes a step back to admire the mixture of your liquids together, oozing out of your pink and ruined cunt.
“Gogo was definitely meant to be in Jason’s arms tonight,” you let out with a breathy chuckle, and cheol brings his hands up to cup your face, swallowing your face whole again with an intense kiss.
“That was amazing baby, Gogo definitely needs to be in Jason’s arms for the rest of all the time from now onwards,” he snuggles his head in the crook of neck, kissing the areas he marked you earlier softly.
You giggle, before a gasp from the man on top of you brought you into a state slight panic, “What’s wrong cheol?”
“Fuck
I just left the bar running—never mind, Jeonghan’s got it,” he snaps his fingers before settling himself in the crook of your neck again.
You tilt your head in confusion, holding his head up to look at him, “What do you mean you left the bar running?”
Cheol’s eyes widen before he smiles sheepishly, “Right
I forgot to mention earlier.. Bloody bar is
my bar—well technically opened it with Jeonghan, the bartender earlier.”
It was your turn to let out a gasp, “Well, never knew bar owners were as enthusiastic in participating in halloween shenanigans,” you smirk towards him before settling down on his bed with him again.
“Lucky you,” he pinches your cheeks and you giggle, rubbing your nose against his, “Lucky me”.
—
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! a little late to release this but,, i hope u enjoyed this mini halloween fic <3 feel free to comment, leave some feedback if u liked it đŸ©·đŸ’ all love,, xx 💋
taglist: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh
574 notes · View notes
voguesriot · 9 months ago
Text
NOBODY’S BUSINESS âœč luke castellan
part one
( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business
( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader
( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!
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♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain
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♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others
yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke
seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇
yourusername you’re such a cutie perce
seaweedbrain kys
sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry
connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig
sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.
lukecastellan 2/10 post
yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔
lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you
chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH
sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED
clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl
yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera
clarisselarue good.
GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest
clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes

sarahdawson: HES WHAT
sarahdawson: oh he’s brave
yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED
yourusername: like a bug
seaweedbrain: or a rat
yourusername: that too
lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him
silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy
yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that
yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether
lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway
lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that
lukecastellan: i mean anyone would
seaweedbrain: great save bro
lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.
sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally
DIRECT MESSAGES
clarisselarue: ok when did you get game
lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about
clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one
lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse
clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with
read.
♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski
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♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others
[ tagged: sarahdawson ]
yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for
yourusername thanks max
this comment was deleted.
sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE
drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide
sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it

..
silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT
pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please
yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues
wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???
silenabeauregard the plot thickens
lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice
yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone
lukecastellan it was a rough time without it
groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves
chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college
maxwalsh nice earrings
this comment was deleted.
seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right

clarisselarue yes.
DIRECT MESSAGES
maxwalsh: hey can we please talk
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out
yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole
maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it
maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself
yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”
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maxwalsh: who tf is this???
yourusername: doesn’t matter
yourusername blocked maxwalsh.
lukecastellan posted to their story!
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SARAHDAWSON replied to your story
sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT
CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story
clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad
SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story
silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story
chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN
MAXWALSH replied to your story
maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day
maxwalsh: wtf man
lukecastellan: womp womp
lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time
♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown
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♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others
[ tagged: yourusername ]
lukecastellan and it ain’t what??
yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS
clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that
silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇
yourusername thank you beautiful angel
seaweedbrain cute i guess

.
chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU
lukecastellan appreciate you bro
lukecastellan wait people said that about me???
wisegirll my favs đŸ˜­đŸ«¶
yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE
seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.
wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy
seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.
lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game
seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living
lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?
seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend
 weird behaviour
sarahdawson too cute i fear
sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.
drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin

leovaldez it’s really depressing
leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall
cbeckendorf he did
pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER đŸ˜­đŸ˜­â˜ ïžâ˜ ïž
( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia
3K notes · View notes
crashandlivewrites · 10 months ago
Text
I Need Your Discipline
My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.
Pairing: Soap x fem!reader
Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"
CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear
Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)
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Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time. 
One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message. 
It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now. 
Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it. 
> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?
This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply. 
&lt; Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish
Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys. 
> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry
&lt; Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics 
> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better? 
&lt; Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes 
Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply. 
> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it 
&lt; Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot 
> Oh yeah? Like what?
Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own. 
Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on
Con: he may not be interested in you
Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom
Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.
You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him. 
You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water. 
“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone. 
> What the fuck
> Warn a man before ye send shite like that
> Is that really you?
> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin
> Ye got me bricked rn
A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly. 
When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall. 
“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest. 
“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.” 
“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.  
“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.” 
“Decently attractive
” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms. 
“Why did you find my photo hot?” 
“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent. 
“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”
“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.” 
“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels. 
“It was
 sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and
 fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face. 
“You wanna see another?” 
The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again. 
“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled. 
Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again. 
“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”
Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned. 
“Steamin’ hell, yer
 shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?” 
“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.” 
“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”
“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing. 
“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”
“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you
 accentuate it.”
“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?” 
“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. 
“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt. 
“Come with me then.”
As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform. 
“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off. 
“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest. 
“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.” 
“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him. 
“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?” 
His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.” 
“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.” 
“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one. 
“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent. 
“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.” 
You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you. 
“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?” 
“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up. 
“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.” 
Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room. 
Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan. 
“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.” 
“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more. 
Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side. 
Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards. 
“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.” 
“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.” 
“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection. 
“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness. 
“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside. 
“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.” 
He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long. 
Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face. 
“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah
 I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back. 
Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance. 
“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen
 ye look like a god damn dream.” 
Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin. 
“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.” 
Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went. 
“John
” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.” 
“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.” 
In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed. 
“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. 
“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.” 
His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again. 
Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you. 
“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you. 
You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers. 
“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge. 
Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice. 
“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut. 
“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please
 I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?” 
You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing. 
“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed. 
As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly. 
“Enjoy yerself there?” 
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.” 
Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you. 
“I said ye tasted fucking divine.” 
“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you. 
“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him. 
“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged. 
“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.” 
You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close. 
“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs. 
“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.” 
You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him. 
“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.” 
“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck. 
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lightseoul · 28 days ago
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so i finally did it, y'all—i commissioned the wonderful @zestivivi to draw my first-ever °˖✧ self-ship art °˖✧
and i couldn't help it upon seeing the draft; i had to write a drabble to give it a bit of a backstory and to really just treat myself, so here it is!
(the pic is under the cut, if you're not in the mood to read and just wanna take a peek at it!)
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CALL ME YOUR FAVORITE, CALL ME THE WORST (k. bakugou x reader)
“—and so i told eijirou he could go to hell if he asked me to cover for him tonight,” bakugou finishes, just as you twist your key one last time, effectively unlocking the door.
you toss him a chastising look as you push it open, trying to ignore the hammering in your chest as you do so. “don’t talk to your best friend like that, katsuki.”
at that, he scoffs, trailing behind you and entering through the doorway. “correction, you’re my best friend. and he’s used to it.”
despite yourself, a smile manages to creep into your face, which bakugou unfortunately catches sight of. the man only smirks to himself before gesturing to his trainers, “where do i put these?”
“beside my birks, please,” you sing-song, although your voice comes out a bit wobbly.
fucking nerves.
dropping your bag on the counter, you quickly shuffle through your kitchen and toward your dining area slash living room slash bedroom, scanning the space for any spot you’ve missed before bakugou could see them.
you’re just about to conclude that this place is as tidy as it can get when you sense the pro-hero walk up beside you, and you look at him to see his eyes darting across the area in inspection, a pensive expression on his face.
“what’re you thinking?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. you immediately regret it, though, bracing yourself for constructive feedback that you know will sting nonetheless.
it’s not every day you get to show your new place that’s your very own to anybody, let alone to your famously (notoriously) pedantic boyfriend.
“it's really clean,” he starts, pausing to think for a moment. he eventually turns to face you, that smirk from before now back on his face, “it’s very you. i like it.”
you feel a warmth wash over you, and you don’t fight the grin that’s invading your features. “aww, thanks, babe!”
he waves you off with a hand, resuming his thorough survey of your unit. “‘s nice how you displayed your books here, and that your guitar is easy to reach for. and your decorations are just abo—”
you glance back at the man from where you were hurriedly pouring him a cold glass of water, “just about what, kats?”
to that, bakugou doesn’t say anything. he seems frozen, eyes fixed on what you think is your entertainment area.
you pad toward the spot beside him, and you follow his line of vision.
directly right to your dynamight figurines.
almost instantly, your stomach drops as if you just got hit by a metaphorical tsunami of scalding humiliation. your feet move before your brain can catch up, and in a matter of seconds, you find yourself planted right in front of bakugou, obscuring his view of his mini-me’s.
at least, you tried to. the tall man only continues to effortlessly stare at them through the space above your head.
“so what do you want for dinner?” you manage to croak out, desperate to change the subject and bones threatening to give out in embarrassment.
“
is that a funko pop of all might and
 me?”
the ground can swallow you up just about now, thanks.
for a beat, you debate as to whether or not to joke or lie your way out of this one, but one look at the inexplicable expression on your boyfriend’s face has you ultimately decided against it.
“
yes?”
now, in the split second of choosing to tell the truth, you came up with the expectations of him snorting in response, or maybe shooting you a confused look that reads ‘what the fuck’ or something similar, but you certainly didn’t predict him to laugh.
as in, drop his head back and howl laugh.
immediately, you feel yourself flame in shame as you watch the pro-hero bend slightly over and clutch his stomach in mirth, what you think are tears now pooling in the corners of his clenched eyes.
you can’t help but frown, “quit laughing at me, you jerk!”
that only makes him bark out another loud one, and just when you think he’s about to finish, he wheezes: “and you’ve got a nendoroid of me, too!”
that’s it.
you spin on your heel, turning your back on your jackass of a boyfriend, and you’re about to scoop the figurines into your arms and throw them into the abyss at the back of your closet when you feel something tug at your wrist, pulling you and your entire body back.
and before you can even comprehend what’s happening, bakugou’s invading your space and leaning toward you, planting his forehead right at the crook of your neck.
“wha—”
you’re cut off by bakugou snuggling into you, and you can feel him shake in laughter before the chuckles finally escape him and you’re both left in comfortable silence.
you hope he’s not hearing the thunderous ruckus your heart is making right now despite yourself.
a few moments pass with neither of you moving or saying anything before you finally decide to speak up.
“if you think this’ll make up for you laughing so blatantly at me, you’ve got another thing coming for you, mister.”
at that, bakugou snorts, retorting without missing a beat. “i wasn’t laughing at you, dumbass.”
you roll your eyes, although you don’t make any move to push him away. “sure, you weren’t.”
“i’m serious. it just caught me off guard.”
“and then you started laughing at me.”
from where he’s slotted right by your neck, bakugou huffs, and you stop yourself from shivering at the feeling of his breath against your skin.
“i was just laughing at how everything’s turned out, alright?”
instinctively, your eyebrows furrow in question, “what do you mean?”
he sighs, the puff of air he lets out tickling your flesh again, “i just think it’s fucking funny how i grew up with a shit ton of all might merch, and now i have my own merch displayed right beside him, in my girlfriend’s new home, no less.”
and, before you can even feign offense at his comment, he beats you to it.
“i’m just fucking happy, okay? just let me have this.”
you don’t know what else to say at his sudden confession, and so you only manage a nod, moving your head just enough for him to feel the gesture. slowly, you allow yourself to relax your shoulders and lean toward bakugou, who snuggles even closer to you in return.
“they’re quite expensive, you know,” you offer after a few seconds of silence. “and yours are especially hard to come by.”
you can practically hear the grin on his face when he quips, “what, am i your favorite hero, or something?”
“no,” you immediately retort, deadpan. “all might is. explains why i only have one figurine of him and a gazillion of you in here.”
at that, bakugou lets out a genuine laugh, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s sporting that boyish grin and disarming eye smile that really nobody else has the honor of witnessing.
nobody except you.
you hesitantly bring your right hand up, unable to resist the urge to gently cradle the back of his head. upon the split second of contact, however, bakugou stiffens, and you’ve half a mind to withdraw and pull away when he does so.
but all the apprehension evaporates from your system when almost immediately after, he nestles closer into you.
you feel yourself flush at the motion, failing to stop the smile that takes over your lips.
and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d bet your expensive ass dynamight figurines he’s blushing, too.
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bonus:
you’re in the middle of feeding yourself a spoonful of chicken curry when you decide you finally have enough. placing the serving firmly on your platter, you shift to face bakugou, who’s at your right and eating beside you.
more of side-eyeing you than eating in the past thirty minutes since dinner arrived, really.
you pull your lips in a tight line, “spit it out, kats.”
at that, he tosses you a disgusted look, before quickly swallowing the mouthful of cabbage he was just munching on. “why the fuck should i do that?”
you roll your eyes, “not the food, dummy. you’ve got something you want to say.”
“i do not.”
you only give him a knowing stare.
bakugou huffs, putting down his own spoon after a pregnant pause, “fine.”
it takes him a moment to finally do so, and when he does you almost choke.
“
so who the fuck is akaashi and why do you also have one of him?”
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for context, here's my entertainment area LMAO i really took self-indulgence to another level, huh (sorry not sorry) title is from the song call me by shinedown (credits to @creativepromptsforwriting for the idea)
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anyway, thank you so much again to @/zestivivi for turning my vision into reality and then some <3 thank you for being so easy to work with and receptive to my requests, particularly to make the character look just like me! 'til the next one, for sure :,)
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