#t at all in those times they are so chill and nice i love
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MHA boys HC
Hello lovelies! This is my first post, I hope you enjoy! includes: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto todoroki
(more next time)
Does include swearing ;-; (because it’s Katsuki)
~Izuku Midoriya~
-ANYTHING will get this man flustered. Even if you wave at him, his face is already red, and as soon as you talk to him, he’s a stuttering mess
-he eventually warms up to you though. He’ll still get flustered but he will at least be able to speak now
-play with his hair. Please.
-hold on to his arm instead of his hand. He loves it
-he’s really sensitive, so try not to be too mean (^_^)
-if you kiss his freckles (or anywhere on his face, just especially freckles) he will blush like crazy (obvi) and the immediately pull you in for a hug. Now you won’t be able to go anywhere until he gives you all the love in the world
-style his hair. Those curls just need to be taken care of T~T
-def doesn’t do enough self care. Just help him out for me, alright? I’m talking face masks, top coat for his nails (PLZ- this man’s hands 😣), skincare, R+R
-speaking of R+R, his favourite way to relax is Netflix and chill, with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair (never going to stop with his hair I js love it sm)
-will literally throw himself out of the car just to open the door for you. Probably has hurt himself a few times from this
-super insecure about his scars!!! Poor baby. The first time you traced his scars, he cried.
-his hands are so rough! (In a good way obvi) like, they feel like sandpaper most of the time, and he’s really insecure about those too >_< -probably has written so much about your quirk that it takes up a whole notebook! You’re just so much more interesting to him than anyone else. Also has other notebooks filled with the things you like/dislike. Literally anything you told him about yourself is written down somewhere
-his laugh is the most heavenly thing. It’s so sweet and genuine. Same with his smile :)
~Katsuki Bakugo~
-this man is so angry all the time, but if you get close enough to him (takes a long time plz be patient) he has such a soft spot for you!!!
-literally the best cook in existence
-being together for dinner with him looks like him teaching you a new recipe, and you guys cooking together. Still yells a lot at you tho (we love him for it)
-hugs from behind ✨ (iykyk)
-brags about you to the bakusquad all the time. “did you see y/n on the battle field!?!? She totally smoked your ass dunceface!”
-swears a lot while talking to you about his day. “And then the fucking lady decided to steal that guys shitty bag! It wasn’t even a nice bag, it looked like it came out of the motherfucking apocalypse!”
-shows his love through actions. Words are hard for him (see the one above)
-makes fun of you all the time
-if he’s about to yell and he knows you’re sensitive, he’ll cover your ears before he yells (this one isn’t my hc, just something I’ve seen a lot)
-he’s a bit of a brat. He just likes seeing you pissed off. Thinks it’s adorable
-very affectionate when you’re alone. Other than that, PDA isn’t very good…maybe he’ll hold your hand or wrap is his arm around your waist so people know to back off, but he gets embarrassed easily.
-shows off around you so much. As soon as you show up to one of his arena fights (different headcanon, might elaborate later) he immediately wins.. you just give him the right motivation with you watching
-he hates when you play with his hair, but he LOVES to touch yours. If it’s long enough, he’ll braid it. Or if it’s not he’ll give you little scalp massages 😮💨
-bullies your bullies. He knows you can handle yourself, but you gotta use your scary boyfriend privileges sometime
~Shoto todoroki~
-if you’re too cold or too hot, he’ll use his quirk to help with that.
-also, it’s canon that he’s usually very cold himself, but can’t regulate his fire well enough to be a good temperature so he deals with it. So cuddles are a must to keep him warm
-he’s so insecure about it his scar, he thinks it makes him ugly and unlovable (canon) so he needs constant reassurance
-poor bae gets night terrors
-takes you to all the new restaurants in town. You guys have been every single one at least once
-make homemade (cold) soba for him or else *_*
-not that it matters to him, but Endeavor does not approve of him dating, so be prepared for arguments. You guys will win in the end though
-so sassy. Loves to back talk
-walks together late at night 😌💅
-not very talkative, he’d rather listen to you ramble. Literally the opposite of izuku in that way
-takes all your jokes way too seriously. You have to explain everything, but after that he’ll laugh with you about it
-SO oblivious. If you gave him a confession note, he’ll ask if you wanted him to proofread it. Or if you said it to his face, he’d be frozen and then ask “that sounds good, is it a line for a play? I didn’t know you did theatre…”
-rich as hell, takes you shopping and you’re not allowed to pay for anything. Treats you with endeavors credit card 👌
-literally best fashion sense. I’m talking flannels, baggy sweaters with cuffed sleeves, those cargo shorts that have the massive pockets.
Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked them (>~<)
#Mha#my hero academia#izuku#midoriya#izuku midoriya#katsuki#bakugo#katsuki bakugo#shoto#todoroki#shoto todoroki#headcanon#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#izuku x reader#shoto x reader#x reader#my hero#bnha#bnha x reader#first post#weeb#anime#mha headcanons
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Dead Man Walking
✧˚ · . y/n plays doctor with Donnie after he gets jumped...
warnings: violence, mentions of blood, fluff
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Donnie laid on the cold hard ground. The moonlight shone down on him. The cold autumn breeze was stuck in his throat, sending chills down his spine. His chest heaved up and down, trying to catch the breath he got knocked out of him. Seth and Ricky were long gone by now, speeding off in their car.
It was around 10:00 PM. Donnie was just trying to have a normal night, get some fresh air by going on a walk. Yet here came Seth and Ricky, pulling up beside him in their trashed car. They jumped out of the vehicle, grabbing Donnie by the neck. They shoved him to the ground, beating him instantly. They punched his face, kicked his ribs, and stomped his chest. Donnie was no weakling, so he of course tried fighting back. Unfortunately, when theres two meat heads jumping you, its kind of hard to use some self defense. They beat him for what felt like hours, but was probably closer to 10 minutes. After they beat Donnie to a pulp, Seth and Ricky got in their car and drove off.
He rolled on his side, pain surging through his body. The first thing that popped into Donnie's mind was Y/n. He wanted her, he needed her. He picked himself up off of the ground, stumbling a bit. He limped down the road on the way to Y/ns house. Thankfully, Donnie and Y/n lived in the same neighborhood, meaning he didn't have to walk very far from where he was.
After a few minutes, Donnie finally arrived at his girlfriends house. He knocked on the door. He saw Y/n peek through the blinds, swinging the door open as soon as she noticed it was him. Her mouth fell open at the horrid sight before her. Donnie was covered in dirt and blood. His eyebrow was busted, a small cut dripped with blood. His left eye was already bruised and swollen. His nose and mouth were bloody, and maybe even a little crooked. He had numerous cuts and scrapes all over him, from his face to his arms. "D..Donnie? Baby what happened?" Y/n asked frantically. Donnie walked towards her, embracing her. She held Donnie, feeling his blood drip onto her t-shirt. Suddenly, he fell to his knees, dragging Y/n down. "Seth..Ricky...they..beat me." Donnie looked at the ground, ashamed of himself. Y/n picked him up by the shoulders, carrying him into her house.
Donnie sat on the toilet seat, Y/n in front of him. She cleaned his cuts and iced his bruises. There was a small first aid kit resting on the bathroom counter and a bowl of ice cubes beside it. Y/n held a bottle of rubbing alcohol in her hand. Donnie sucked his teeth, feeling the burning sensation of the alcohol being pressed onto his cut. "I know, my love. Im sorry, just this one more and we'll be done." Y/n was gently fixing him up, her soft hands grazing his face. Although Donnie was in immense pain, it felt nice being babied. Y/n put a bandaid over one of his numerous cuts, finally finished to the best of her abilities. "There. All better." Donnie stood up and looked in the mirror. His eye was still black and swollen, but he definitely looked and felt better than before. Y/n snaked her arms around Donnie, hugging him from behind. He winced in pain, pressure being put on the cuts and bruises around his torso. Y/n lifted up his shirt, exposing nasty wounds from the beating. She looked up at Donnie sympathetically. "Those pricks are gonna pay for this. Tomorrow we gotta tell the principal-" "No, Y/n. We cant. Why would we, so they can kick my ass again? Kill me this time?" Donnie cut Y/n off. His eyes had that crazy look in them, the one that she knew all too well. Y/n backed off, understanding that he was just frustrated. Donnies expression softened, feeling bad for snapping at his girlfriend. "Im sorry baby. Its just...I don't want you to think i'm weak. Like i cant protect you." Donnie felt like a pussy. Emasculated. Y/n cupped his cheek, looking deep into his blue puppy eyes. "I know you're not weak, Don." Y/n pressed a kiss to his lips, still swollen. Donnie put his hand over hers, smiling.
The pair laid on Y/ns couch. Y/n didnt even care about her parents catching Donnie in their house at this late hour. All she was worried about was her baby. Donnie recounted the events that had just happened as Y/n ran her fingers through his hair. They didn't speak about what was gonna happen next, what was gonna happen tomorrow at school. They simply relished in eachothers presence. After a few moments of silence, Y/n looked down at her chest to see that Donnie had fallen asleep. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, snuggling him.
She was gonna make those pieces of shit's lives a living fucking nightmare.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
(wow dis was a random idea lol i thought it was a cute lil concept tho. pt 2 of girl next door will be out on friday :3)
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The Cullens with a reader who loves plants
All of these are a pre-established relationship but other than that it's completely open to interpretation
Edward:
An enabler
The first time he visited your room (that you knew of or not) he immediately saw all of your plants
The perfect easy gift
Most men give flowers, this man gives succulents
If he hears in your thoughts that one of your plants isn't doing so well or if there's one that you really want but can't afford it/ don't have space, suddenly you have a new plant
His room becomes your personal greenhouse
Not like he uses it for much else anyway
When you move in, he asks Carlisle if he can build you a greenhouse
Spares no expense
If he had his way your greenhouse would be bigger than the actual house
He will read so many books on proper care for plants and follow your instructions to a T
Man said its ficUS
Alice:
She loves seeing you happy
And if little cacti and bright flowers make you happy then she is all over them
She accidentally got a couple visions of you going to the same store and buying more plants before she really knew you
She saw it enough that she already knew that you loved them before really getting to know you
I feel like she used to have some plants but doesn't really anymore
Will buy a whole Home Depot's worth tho
Enabler yet again
When you move in she obviously helps you bring all your plants too
As a welcome present she buys really pretty matching pots for all of them
When she buys you new ones she also buys another one of those pots
Side note but I feel like her favorite plant is probably the lily of the valley
Jasper:
Is a little shocked when he finds out
He's never met someone with so much of one type of thing
Like yeah Edward has a lot of CDs
And Alice has a lot of clothes
But this is excessive
He can't even see the walls of your room
Wonders briefly if you're some type of creature that needs all of the extra oxygen that plants can cycle in order to live
He doesn't say anything though
He likes you, you like plants, so he will like the plants too
Is a bit skeptical when you move in and want to take all your plants with you
He already has to share the space with Alice and her huge closet and now there will be literally over a hundred plants?
There simply is not room
He'll try very gently to suggest that maybe you get rid of a few
That goes about as well as expected
So he just lives like this now
He isn't actually upset though
He's happy that you're happy
Rosalie:
Sorry not sorry she's an enabler
She doesn't need to go to the grocery store
Yet somehow once a week there is always a new plant in your collection
When you ask her she says she saw it while she was grocery shopping and thought you would like it
I have a feeling she cannot take care of plants though
You gave her a succulent once and it died
Literally a week later it was dead
She doesn't know what happened
You don't know what happened
All you know is that she is not allowed to touch your plants
She thinks they are gorgeous though
Will help you build a garden or a greenhouse once you move in
She likes to go out there and chill when you're not around
She loves the big leafy ones
And any with hanging vines
Emmett:
He's like the dad with the dog meme
Except with plants
He literally has never given them a second thought
Until you of course
Now he's over here like "yes I do like the pink pot better than the blue one for your money tree"
In all seriousness I feel like he'd have a HUGE green thumb
When you move in he's instantly offering to make a garden for you
Well, he says it's for you anyway
He's the one out there 90% of the time digging holes and planting bushes
He has a damn forest out there now
And I guess a couple of your plants too
Jk jk
He really took to it though
If you thought you were obsessed
He's even worse
Carlisle:
He thinks it's nice :)
Sort of in the "oh that's nice that they have an interest" sort of way
He's a firm believer that hobbies keep people sane and rounded individuals
And what's more grounding than the literal Earth and things that grow out of it
He'll never admit it is a lot though
Esme is the one who likes to decorate a lot
His office is filled with more utilitarian things, not so much decoration
Doesn't mean he doesn't like it, just that it's not what he does
He will say though, when you move in and he starts to notice some plants sitting on some of his shelves, he likes the color it brings to the room
Is another one who will happily buy you whatever plants you want
He won't take care of them though
Not because he doesn't want to or doesn't care, but he knows this is your thing
Esme:
She is a total plant girly
She does most of the interior design wherever the Cullens go, of course she takes care of the plants too
There are a couple plants in the house in the movies
I think those are hers <3
Obviously tho she does not have as many as you
But she will make it work
Y'all instantly bonded over your shared love
Another one who will buy you whatever plants you want
She can't help it when she's the one who wants them too
She would LOVE a garden
I think she would find growing vegetables and herbs to be really fulfilling
Even though she has no need for them
Maybe she'd sell them or give them away or smthn idk
But I also think she would love the quality time that working on a garden together would be
so romantic
Vampire! Bella:
Sort of indifferent idk
She thinks it's a bit odd but she has definitely seen weirder things
She does come from a family of pretty eccentric people
Overall though I don't think she would mind
She might use them as a way to get closer to you or as just another means of hanging out
If she notices it's gotten too quiet and she wants to hear you talk more, she might ask about a random plant just to get you talking again
Or she would suggest going to a plant store to hangout
I think she would be helpful though
Water, sunlight, make sure they don't die
She can do that much at least
She doesn't understand the appeal but she doesn't make fun of you or belittle you for it at all
Everybody has their interests
She doesn't mind
#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen#alice cullen x reader#alice cullen#jasper cullen x reader#jasper hale x reader#jasper cullen#jasper hale#rosalie hale x reader#rosalie cullen x reader#rosalie cullen#rosalie hale#emmett cullen x reader#emmett cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle cullen#esme cullen x reader#esme cullen#bella swan x reader#bella swan
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What a year, huh.
I'm not going to talk about how everything is going to shit in the real world, that's not what this post is about.
I can remember that before Gotham, I had a bit of trouble trying to get inspired about art. I did end up doing a lot of original art due to that, tho. Gotham was the nice return to a hyperfixation that got me back to creating, which felt like a saving grace tbh. I draw A LOT, you may have noticed. I thank my ADHD for that. So, when I'm unable draw I do struggle spending my time in any meaningful way.
I also started reading again this year. Murderbot Diaries got me by the throat, I love those books so much. I've also liked T. Kingfisher's books so far, haven't read that many yet, tho. I also read in english, not the translated versions, so it's a nice way to "use" my english skills.
I finally started needle felting this Christmas! I've been meaning to do it for yearsss. Bunnydog was my ever first attempt, Slowpoke was my second.
Arcane season 2. Woohee, I had totally forgotten when it was going to drop! It was a good thing tho, I was saved from a lot of painful waiting around, hah. I might've chickened out of the Zaundads fandom back in the day but it's so much more chill now. Well, kind of. I do see people complain a bit in the tags. Plus I bet it's a lot worse in other sites. ANYWAY!
I feel like that in this short time after season 2, I've gotten better at art and got my groove fully back. I am so grateful for people who just keep being so nice and support me here adsfsdfo! I said it back in 2021/2022 I think but I'll say it again: zaundads fandom has been one of the nicest fandom I've been part of. (I have to mention tho, so is riddlebird fandom)
I'm still a bit overwhelmed with all the attention I'm getting, I admit, but I am also so happy I get to share my unhinged love for this stupid little man.
My next year will start with job hunting and balancing my mental health (I've been "in recovery" for years, it's gonna be a adjustment to start working. I am still very much struggling but not as much so I have to find a job that doesn't kill me in a month lol).I've also made one new years resolution which is that I will more actively display and live my preferred identity and not just go "eh whatever, I know how I actually feel like so". Not gonna be easy because I get embarrassed about everything and will want to backpedal so hard at the start but uhhh...I'll try not to? Eh.
Yea. So a lot of new things for the next year and I already feel tired. But hopeful!
I'll end this post by randomly sharing my fave CJU gameplays because his gameplay vids always help me to relax:
youtube
I couldn't find the playlist so here's PART 2 and PART 3. I really love the story in this one.
youtube
A game I expected nothing from and now rewatch this playthrough ever so often. PLAYLIST
youtube
Love the game, love the commentary, love the vibes! PLAYLIST
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Kinktober Day 11: On Camera
Kurt Kunkle x Streamer/OF!Fem!Reader
Summary: Kurt wins a contest to meet his new favorite streamer. Little did he know there’s more to this contest than he’d ever anticipated.
Warnings: 18+ smut, loss of virginity (m), overstimulation, unprotected p in v sex, girth god Kurt, multiple orgasms, p*ssyjob, oral sex, sweetthansour!reader, humiliation kink, livestream sex
Kurt reread the congratulatory email with a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t believe he’d won a night of gaming with you! And all he had to do was answer some very personal and invasive questions such as what his kinks were, test results, and whether or not he’s a virgin. Maybe that’s what the new streamers are doing nowadays. Whatever it takes to draw in the viewers, he guesses.
Nonetheless, this is going to be a great opportunity for him. Not only does he get to play alongside one of his favorite female streamers but he gets to advertise his own channel. Even better…if he were to beat you in any game, your fans would surely flock to him.
Kurt could hardly sleep last night a wink last night, thoughts consumed with what he’ll do with his newfound fame. When he received the text message for your location, he practically catapulted into bed, rushing over to his closet for the best swag to wear.
“Dude, you are not fucking wearing any of that lame shit in your closet to see LatteBunny,” Bobby scoffs, dumping a backpack of clothes from his personal closet onto Kurt’s bed. “You’re so lucky I won’t let you go looking like an idiot because if I were a dickhead, I’d have ruined your chances with her. It should’ve been me winning the night with her.”
“I’m not even sure how I won.” Kurt says, rummaging through his options
“I know why. It’s because I wasn’t allowed to enter so they had no choice but to pick the lesser of the losers,” Bobby says with a scowl. “Soon as I turn 21 in like 4 years and she hosts another one of these contests, I’ll be in there like swimwear.”
“What do you think of this?” Kurt asks with a spin reveal. He sports a black graphic T-Shirt with white sweatpants. “It’s like chill enough to where it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard but also it’s swaggy.”
“Of all the things here…” Bobby trails off with a frustrated sigh. “If you like it, I love it, dude. Whatever.”
“Will you and your followers be watching the livestream together?” Kurt asks with hopefulness. The more viewers, the better.
“Hell no, I’m not trying to get demonetized or traumatized.” He shudders.
————
Kurt gives an anxious knock on the door to your airbnb, shifting back and forth on either foot. Once the door swings open, Kurt’s jaw nearly falls to the ground when he sees you. God, you’re even prettier in person and it’s enough to make his knees buckle. He swallows hard, holding out a bouquet of flowers as his eyes drink in your form. You’re wearing a seamless black lace bodysuit that accentuates your curves; revealing but not enough to where he can see you fully nude.
“Are those for me?” You ask, clearly smitten.
He nods, absentmindedly.
“You’re so sweet…and so hot,” You reach a hand towards him as you step closer. He flinches a little, your succubus aura making him feel weak. You notice this and gently take his hand to soothe him. “Sorry, I hope I’m not making you nervous. I’m really nice once you get to know me personally.”
“A-are we on camera?” Kurt asks.
“Not yet,” You reply before biting your lip, looking him up and down. “I wanted some alone time with you first…if that’s okay with you.”
Kurt was a little disappointed but also really glad. He’d hate to have looked like a beta male in front of the viewers, especially so early in the visit.
“It’s cool.” He says.
“Great! Come in,” You grab his arm, dragging him inside. “I’m really excited to get to know you, Kent.”
“It’s Kurt,” He corrects, trying to keep up with you. You’re so fast despite being in heels. “Like my socials @/kurtsworld96.”
“Oops, I’m so sorry. My manager must’ve read it wrong on your questionnaire,” You seat him at a mini bar before locating a vase for your flowers. You head behind the counter of the bar and begin to mix a drink. “Hope you like sex on the beach.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. T-totally. I’ve had sex in all kinds of places. Especially on the beach. It’s one of my top favorite spots actually.”
You giggle. “You’re so funny, Kurt.”
He wasn’t sure what was so funny but as long as he got to make you laugh, he must’ve been doing something right. Usually girls found him to be quite bizarre but you’re just as nice as you are pretty. Not to mention how intoxicating you smell.
Kurt leans in as you busy yourself with the drinks, he takes a sniff of your blueberry scent and lets out a shaky sigh. You turn to look at him and he expects you to curse him out for it but instead you lean closer over the counter, allowing him access to your scent and your tantalizing cleavage.
“It’s a new scent I’m trying, ya like?” You ask.
“Yeah, it’s really good. If you were a vape flavor, I’d definitely hit.” He says.
“That’s comforting to know,” You say, finishing up the drinks and putting them on a small tray. “Could you take these over to the conversation pit over there? I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’m on it,” Kurt obliges, taking the tray to its destination. The pit is reminiscent of the 70s; a large colorful area with geometric shapes surrounded all around by one large sofa. He notices the camera set up and the game console and he gets excited. It’s indeed a stylish place to play.
He removes his shoes before going down the small steps and setting the tray on the coffee table. “This place is badass. Very artsy.”
“I know right,” You reply, sounding far away. “It’s got some Norman Rockwell and Andy Warhol influences in there. It’s exactly why I chose this place so I can just admire the aesthetics while we enjoy ourselves.”
“Sick,” Kurt agrees, admiring the place. He registers your presence when he feels the seat beside him sink a little. You already have your drink in hand, his drink in the other outstretched towards him. “Thanks.”
You clink your drinks together and while you take your sip, he takes a big gulp before immediately coughing.
“Too strong?” You ask.
“Nah, it’s perfect,” He refutes. “In fact, I wish it were stronger.”
You scoot closer to him, thigh in contact with his and it takes everything in him not to hyperventilate.
“You look so tense. You really don’t have to be so shy. I’m just a normal girl.” You say softly, running your acrylic nails up and down his thick thigh like a cat. “How about we play some music—That should help, yeah? What do you like to hear?”
“I-I actually dj a little. Make my own songs.”
“Ooo, do you?”
“Mhm. I can do house music, electronic and dance, remixes…ya know the whole nine.”
“Don’t keep me waiting. I’d like to hear,” You hand him your phone and he fidgets with the device in search of Soundcloud, typing his profile and clicking his latest work.
The song blasts from the speakers, pumping it with the vibrations running through the both of you.
“What do you think?” He calls out over the song.
“It’s music alright.”
“It slaps.” He says with a smile, dancing a little. Next thing he knew, your lips were on his. He could only stay frozen as you move your mouth against his before parting.
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” You ask with a teasing smile.
“How’d you know?”
“It’s written all over you, hon,” You laugh. “My question is…why me?”
“I don’t…understand.” He whispers, voice suddenly unable to project. You’re taking his breath away!
“Why’d you sign up for the contest?”
“B-because you’re my favorite streamer and I want to play with you.”
“Aww, am I really?” You cup his cheek. “Most guys are afraid to admit they like watching girl streamers.”
“Women, men…we’re all the same.”
“You do know that this was a contest for LatteBunnyAfterDark—my onlyfans page not the gaming channel, right? You won the night to fuck me on cam.”
He chokes on his drink. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”
“What for? You’re cute as fuck,” You brush his hair from his eyes. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable taking your virginity. That should be reserved for someone you truly care about. And a moment that intimate shouldn’t be broadcasted to thousands of people.”
“I-I’m okay with that. I want to lose it. Take it. You can have it. You’re already so special to me, remember? You’re my favorite streamer.”
“Hmm,” You fake ponder, acrylic-donned pointer finger against your chin. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask my followers what they think.”
You saunter over to your tripod and hit record on your filming device. “Evening, my horny little jackrabbits, as you can very well see I am here with the winner of my contest, Kent from Kentsworld.”
“It’s Kurt from Kurtsworld…96.” He corrects once again, confused how you’ve already forgotten.
“Right! Well it turns out, Kurtie here is a small dick little virgin boy. Aren’t you, Kurt?”
“W-well, I…I’m a virgin but my cock is like super-huge. Like I’ve had girls turn me down because I’m so big. That’s why I’m a virgin.” He explains.
“What the fuck is that god awful sound?”
A viewer message chimes on screen read by a chat-to-speech bot.
“I know right. Ouch,” You laugh, sticking your fingers in your ears. “Kurt says he’s a DJ. Totally not lying; wink, wink.”
Kurt feels his cheeks flushing. He’s angry and humiliated and yet he still wants to fuck you.
“He wants me to pop his little cherry, jackrabbits,” You pout in feigned sadness. “But I don’t take virginities from followers because I want you all to lose yours to someone you all care for.”
Kurt looks over your shoulder, reading some of the passing messages. Most of them envy him and that gives him some pride.
“I’d want to lose it to you, my goddess.”
“It should’ve been me not him.”
“He is not HIM.”
“But I don’t know…I’d hate to leave someone when they’re in need. And he did win my contest. So…should I do it? Do I fuck him?”
The chat is going crazy with donations and followers sending in their suggestions that range from ungodly to practically demonic.
“Let him play a game against you. He loses, he goes home a virgin. He wins, he fucks.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” You praise, clapping your hands together. “My followers are actually so smart when the blood in their bodies decide to redirect its attention from their tiny cocks to their even tinier brains. Just for that, me and Kurt are going to make this a really good show.”
And then the two of you were gaming on camera and things did not go as Kurt planned. All night he couldn’t sleep thinking of the way he’d show himself superior to her in gaming. All night he thought of the many fun ideas he had planned for his new followers but now here he was being humiliated by you over and over again. He’d lost 6 games by now and that should have been the end. But when Kurt offered an all or nothing game you couldn’t resist.
Every now and then you’d seduce him enough to where he could barely keep his eyes on the game, wanting to watch the way you jumped up and down during every little victory; the way your full breasts would bounce or your ass would jingle in that damned bodysuit.
He should’ve lost the last game for sure. You were clearly upping your distractions except when he saw the winning words displayed on his screen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. In fact, he was so shocked he rubbed his eyes repetitively to make sure.
“Looks like you won,” You immediately fall to your knees in front of him. “Guess you can finally collect your prize.
Kurt is stiff in position, controller still in hand. The sound of his music still blasting as he tries to focus on that to keep from fainting.
You stroke him over his boxers a little but he continues to hold back his sounds. You remove the last barrier and his girthy cock springs out of its confines, bobbing side to side.
“Oh my god, look guys…he’s actually a cervix punisher. I’m going to be ruined,” You laugh and he groans at your nickname for his dick.
“T-told you. You probably want to run away, too.” Kurt rasps.
“Uh-uh, baby, I never back out of a challenge.” You lick the base of him and he whines, jumping high enough to make his heavy dick plop down against your face for a moment. You laugh some more, stroking him until his sticky pre-cum seeps from the tip. He really is so funny.
You lick the mushroom head, closing your lips around it to suckle before pulling off. He trembles beneath you and you snake a hand underneath his shirt, stroking his hairy tummy and chest for comfort. “Relax, Kurt, lemme make you feel so good. You deserve it for being my biggest fan.”
“It’s…a lot.” He says, out of breath.
“I know, baby,” You coo. “Let’s play another fun game? Each time you cum before we actually fuck, you’ll cum double that inside of me.”
Before Kurt could speak, your mouth was fully around him again. You’re professional; bobbing, twisting, slurping and gagging—he’s a complete mess. He’s sobbing out loud, large hands in your hair and tear-filled eyes are rolling into the back of his head.
Messages go off as they both curse and encourage Kurt for his time with you. But for the first time Kurt couldn’t care less about the followers or going viral, he’s getting the best head and soon he’s going to be inside of his favorite streamer.
He shocks himself when he cums down your throat, gasping for air and wriggling under you. You don’t pull off until he’s begging and pushing you away from him.
“Mmm, who knew virgins tasted this sweet.” You moan, licking your lips. “That’s twice you’ll be finishing inside me by the way.”
“I don’t think I can.” He whines.
You pull off your bodysuit, slowly letting him watch your every move. His hard member stirs up again, standing proud. “Sure, you can. Look how much he wants to please me.”
You crawl over him pulling off his shirt, hands on his hairy chest that’s matted down by sweat. You’re both in a position where the cameras have a good closeup of the action. They’ll get to see the moment Kurt enters you and officially become a man. “I want you to put it in, Kurt.”
With shaky hands, Kurt reaches between your bodies and grabs his painfully throbbing cock. He searches for your hole, dripping wet with your essence. He’ll need to have a taste of that before the end of the night. Gliding his cock up and down the length of you, he unintentionally teases your little nub.
You mewl, grinding your pussy back and forth on his length. He’s taking too long and you really needed to get off. His mouth drops watching you, move against him and, before he knew it, he was coming again. His cock twitches, making a sloppy mess against your puffy lips.
“Oh fuck, that’s good. Shit, shit.” He groans, gripping your waist to rock you against him. You feel your heartbeat in your core, on the brink of coming but you instead focus on nursing him through his own orgasm; playing in his hair as you do.
After some time he comes down, he shoots you a goofy smile. “Did I lose my virginity?”
“No, you fucking moron. You weren’t even inside her.”
Kurt looks up at you with fearful yet puppy dog hazel eyes, swallowing hard enough for his Adam’s Apple to bob in his throat. You wrap a hand around his neck, sinking onto his thick cock. The stretch is intoxicating.
You throw your head back and he lets out a strained cry in unison with your guttural moan. You look back down at him again with a wicked smile as you bounce in time to the beat of his music, the vibrations adding to the pleasure.
“That’ll be 4, by the way.”
#kurt kunkle x reader smut#kurt kunkle#spree movie#spree 2020#kurt kunkle spree#joe keery fanfiction#joe keery fandom#joe keery x reader#kurt kunkle fanfic#x reader#male character x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024
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i should’ve never let you go | x.mh
- To him, love can only mean you
oneshot | 2.5k | exes! au | angst | comfort
after laying out his raw heart for you on voicemail, one part of xu minghao never expects to hear from you again. this is until you text him back asking him to meet you for the first time in over a year. with your text, minghao knows he can’t let you slip away the way he did before.
sequel to we shouldn’t have ended like this
~ pairing . xu minghao x gn!reader
~ content . exes to lovers au!, non idol au!, minghao’s a lover boy, quite cheesy at the end, can be read as a standalone fic but some minor references won’t be picked up on
~ tw/cw . suggestive, mentions of alcohol, minghao’s a bit of a dick to everyone but his s/o
~ song rec . blue jeans - lana del rey
~ author’s note . here it is, the much requested pt.2 !! thank you all for loving pt.1 so much ~~
(taglist at the end)
THE PARK BENCH IS ICE AGAINST MINGHAO’S BLUE JEANS.
His hands are tightly clasped around a medium-sized bouquet, a pink bow ribbon tying everything together. Minghao doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, just knows that carnations are your favourites. Even though there’s a slight chill in the air, Minghao is dressed nicely; short-sleeved polo rolled up to show his arms. He thought he might as well make a decent effort: after all, he’s seeing you for the first time in a year.
Soulmates used to be a concept foreign to Minghao, so foreign when his friend Jun often blabbed on about finding his ‘one true love’ - he could only scoff. Then he thought about what love meant to him. Watching all his friends fall in and out of it faster than he could blink, love didn’t mean much. Yes, he had been ‘in love’ but it had never consumed him, never broken him apart to the point he questioned his purpose of living.
Until you whispered those three words into his ear (it was early morning and you were tangled in his sheets, the linen covering your bare upper body, your eyes were barely opened but your smile was so bright, your fingertips and kisses painted his neck like a canvas. He had never seen such an angelic sight) and it all finally clicked. If this was what love felt like, then he had loved you since he first saw you.
Being in love meant loving you. To him, now love can only mean you.
Honestly, Minghao wasn’t expecting a response from you. It was three am when he sent the voicemail and after so long with no contact, you had probably moved on and found someone else. Living your life without thinking about him, is a privilege Minghao could only wish for. You were in his dreams, in his walls, staring at him in his bathroom mirror.
Although he did miss you terribly, a part of him sent a message because he wanted closure. He wanted to know you didn’t want him anymore. Maybe with your deafening silence, he could move on - live a life with you (an empty promise to himself, like a single coin in a fountain). But you didn’t.
A week after that night, Minghao received a text from your number.
It was early afternoon and Minghao was only half occupied with the tasks of the day, his head everywhere but the present. After sending that voicemail, he couldn’t seem to focus. A string of ‘what ifs’ kept constantly replaying in his head like a strip of film. At a point, he even contemplated throwing away your slippers. But as he saw them by the heater neatly lined next up to his - something deep from within him forced his whole body to stop. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Throwing away your slippers would mean giving up on you. Quitting had not got Minghao very far in life.
A notification popped up when he was scrolling mindlessly that day - he was about to swipe up. But when he saw your contact name (it’s ‘sweetheart’, he hasn’t changed it since the day he told you he loved you, the contact name even outliving your relationship), his phone almost dropped out of his hand and onto his face.
Sweetheart: How much did you drink?
Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a drunken mistake. That he wouldn’t have said what he said without the removed inhibitions from several bottles of wine. He meant every single word he said
Minghao: I’ve never been more sober in my life.
His fingers paused at his keyboard, wanting to say so much more. He wanted to tell you once again how he couldn’t live without you, how you were even more important to him than the oxygen that fills his lungs. But he settled with simple formalities instead.
Minghao: How are you?
Sweetheart: Stop pretending that you care.
Minghao could feel his entire heart shatter in his chest, had you not listened to the voicemail or even worse did you not believe him? Did you not believe his love for you? Again, you were slipping away from him right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t let you go.
Minghao: Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I care about you more than I care for myself.
Sweetheart: Meet me in the park at 2pm and prove it then.
That’s how Minghao finds himself in his local park. Coincidentally, where you both had your first date (now several years ago, he placed a pink carnation behind your ear and when he looked into your eyes, he knew you were going to be different from the others). His heart is threatening to fall out of his chest with the way it’s beating so fast. What is he supposed to say to you? What apology on earth can he give you to make up for his past actions?
The past is in the past but Minghao needs you in his future.
As if you were the grand prize in this game we call life, Minghao is a debtor using up his final pennies. He can’t afford to lose you. The universe doesn’t grant second chances easily and Minghao wasn’t a fool to let you go again.
Your relationship was the furthest thing from perfect, but your flaws matched each other in a way Minghao could never fully grasp. End pieces in a jigsaw, rose quartz and serenity in an evening sky, the rays of the sun and the glow of the moon. You were far from perfect but you were more than close enough for Minghao. He was obsessed with you and still is.
He hears the light patter of feet against the cobbled pavement. The sound gets louder and louder until it stops. Minghao looks up from his fiddling fingers, expecting it to be some dog walker whose pet doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. But then he feels a familiar tap on his shoulder, there’s only one person in this world whose touch is as light as a feather.
When he sees you, his whole world ceases to exist. It is only you that remains. For a year he wanted, craved for this moment. You were his messiah, all he wanted to do was worship you until his throat was hoarse and lips parched. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Only you could save him, only you could fix him. He quickly stands up to look at you. He thinks if you touch him his legs would give in and he would fall to the floor. Your presence is overwhelming, you’re taking over his sensing and clouding his thoughts.
All of his words are caught in the base of his throat, there is so much he wants to tell you - but as he tries to speak only silence escapes from his parted pink lips.
You look slightly different, something Minghao couldn’t quite put his finger on. In front of him, you are a paradigm of blues, yellows and reds: the centrepiece in an art gallery, Micheal Angelo’s greatest creation.
“These are for me?” You ask cautiously, breaking the seemingly infinite silence.
You were so surprised to hear from him after you had assumed he had fallen out of love with you months ago. You want to make sure, that you haven’t gone mad, that the love of your life is really standing in front of you.
“Of course they are,” He hands you the flowers and watches your face light up when you realise that he remembered.
“You remembered…” You say smiling, looking down and twirling the pink stain ribbon between your fingers. ‘Of course’ Minghao thinks - of course, he’d never forget. He wants to reply but he’s too captivated with your beauty to think straight.
Still lost in thought, you continue, “Where did all the time go… Back then we were so young, so naive, so… So…” You struggle to find the right words to say.
“So stupid.” Minghao’s words are breathless as you meet his ever-so-loving gaze. For the whole of your relationship, Minghao had never been the one to open up to faults - you as well. The feeling of being so naked and vulnerable is foreign to him. But he relishes in the freedom of the truth, his pride no longer holding him down in chains.
He thinks he loves you more than anyone in human history has loved before.
“I meant everything, I said in that voicemail. You were right ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this’, yet I let it happen. I made you doubt my love but to protect my pride, I just stood there, saying nothing. I thought you grew fed up with our relationship, that I wasn't what you wanted. But then I realised you were pushing me away to protect yourself, just like I did.” Minghao pauses getting slightly emotional.
“Nothing I say or do will ever be enough, I can’t turn back time I know that.
But I never stopped loving you.”
And before he can comprehend, you’re in his arms, head against his chest - your home (his heart). You drop the flowers in your right hand and Minghao circles himself around you, engulfing you in his embrace. You don’t say anything, yet a thousand words fall from your parted lips as you stare into his pools of brown (the same pools you could spread hours, days drowning in, as if fresh air didn’t exist). You smell exactly like he remembered, a mix of woods and flora. You feel like a cup of warm tea after a tiresome day, the silver lining he always looks towards. Minghao thinks there’s nothing in the world as beautiful as you.
“I should’ve never let you go…” The words tumbling out of his lips are a waterfall of emotion. Waves of relief rush over him as he feels himself around you. This is where he is supposed to be. Suddenly, everything in his life is going to be okay.
“I should have never tried to push you away in the first place ” Your hands reach up to stroke the back of his hair and he melts into your touch like butter.
This is where he belongs.
Minghao places a small kiss on the mole you have on your collarbone and it’s almost like the past year didn’t happen (you’re on a date in the city, you’re wearing his favourite dress which shows your shoulders and no matter how hard he tries, Minghao can’t keep his hands off you, pecking and nibbling at the soft skin, even if he didn’t say it much, he was enamoured with you). Minghao doesn’t notice the lingering eyes of passers-by, he even fails to realise the passage of time.
Sadly the world can’t stop for him, no matter how much it feels like it does.
With a loud honk from a car speeding down the other side of the road resonating through his eardrums, Minghao is brought back to reality. Suddenly the light weight in the back of his jeans pocket feels all too heavy and he starts to panic, pushing you away gently. You pout, feeling like you have the wrong idea and Minghao’s expression is immediately sympathetic.
“No baby, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He coos in a tone that had almost become foreign to him.
Never, has he used this tone with any of his hookups, even when they begged to be called sweet names, he couldn’t (looking back on this Minghao feels guilty, but those people weren’t you, they couldn’t ever be you). He’s surprised at how easily those words drift off his tongue after so long. He guesses everything just comes easier with you.
“Remember how I said, we’ll listen to your favourite jazz album while drunk on wine.” He scratches his neck bashfully as you look up to him with wide eyes.
“I may or may not have booked us two tickets to their live show in the area, I just wanted to do something again to show that I care. I know it wouldn’t make up for-"
You silence him with a kiss, and Minghao forgets where he is, what he had just said, the colour of the sky and the feeling of the ground below his feet. hell if you didn't whisper ‘It’s okay Minghao' against his lips, he would have forgotten his own name.
For Minghao, it’s you. It has always been you and it will continue to be you. Maybe until the day he dies, he thinks. But knowing himself, he would probably find a way to love you in the afterlife as well.
You drag Minghao by his arm into his dimly lit flat, lips still perfectly intertwined together like a lock and key. If your kisses are knife wounds, Minghao wouldn’t mind bleeding to death. He can taste the tart fermented grapes on your tongue. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is more intoxicating than the bottle of wine you shared. You mewl pitifully into his mouth, clutching his clothes like a beggar desperate for cash. The sight of you begging for him was probably on par with the sex itself.
The night wasn’t supposed to end like this. Minghao had planned it out perfectly: you were supposed to visit a jazz show featuring your favourite ensemble, then you’d have dinner at a place he’d been meaning to take you for months, then maybe after a glass of red (or two) a taxi would drop you off at your complex where he would kiss you on the check and tell you to sleep well.
You both barely made it to step two.
Minghao pulls you flush against his chest breaking the kiss for air - you don’t seem to care as you turn your attention to his neck. In the morning, Minghao expects to see dots of red-purple bruises lined across the pale skin of his neck like patches of watercolour. The night wasn’t supposed to end like this, but Minghao doesn’t have the strength in him to tell you to stop.
“I wanted to be a gentleman.” He manages to whisper out, his eyes squeezing shut as you move your hands and kisses downwards, “I don’t want you just for your body, you know.”
“I know. I just missed you so much it was driving me crazy.” You say and drag him by the collar. You’re not looking where you’re going, but Minghao trusts you know his place better than you know your own.
Before he can respond, he feels you jerk slightly, almost tripping over your feet. He looks down to watch what caused it and he feels his face light up like a pink neon sign downtown.
“You still have my slippers here.” You say, not like you’re inquiring, but more like a statement. The smile on your face is miles wide when you look up at him. Minghao knows exactly what you’re thinking and because of it, he’s the happiest man who has ever lived.
“I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, I never wanted to let you go in the first place."
taglist - @minhui896 @luvhuihui @porridgesblog @bangantokchy @haocovr @icyminghao
#seventeen oneshot#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic recs#seventeen imagines#the8 oneshot#the8 angst#the8 x reader#the8 fluff#minghao oneshot#minghao angst#minghao fluff#minghao x reader#svt oneshot#svt angst#svt x reader#svt fluff#i’m finally doneeee#i hope this lived up to your expectations 🩵
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That one flight home
part 6 to That one Christmas flight
summary: Kiss me hard before you go.
warning: oral sex, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely
It's inevitably a strange experience to wake up next to someone you'd never slept next to before. Y/N kept waking up as her heart was testing the limits of the amount of heartbeats a human body can entail before it becomes a condition. She watched Lando, as he snored ever so quietly, saving every moment in her memory. Unlike her, Lando was used to sleepless nights. And unlike her, the strangest part of their first night together for him was the fact he fell asleep in the middle of his sentence. So simple, so easy. His mind and soul safe and sound. Perhaps he made the leap of the first night slumber on the first flight, when she rested her head on his shoulder for almost six hours.
When he woke up, she was standing by the window, watching whatever seemed to be happening on the street. He stayed silent, admiring the figure and the way light higlighted her curves. Only once she turned around, he spoke to her.
"Hey you...early morning person, I see," he grunted, wanting nothing more that to return to any of their previous activities, starting with cuddling.
"Yeah, sadly so. Would love to sleep til 12 sometimes," she said and glanced over to him morning boner. Lando noticed her look and shook his head.
"What can I say, impossible to control that."
"I like it, it's cute!"
"Did you just call my boner cute? Ouch," he pretended to get hurt.
She returned back to the bed. "It's cute that you have one."
"Hard to imagine not having one." They locked their lips having absolutely no care in the world for morning breath.
//
"Breakfast?" she asked, hungry as ever. It was a hard decision as she absolutely loved being locked in his embrace.
Lando had something different in mind, but god he was starving.
They got dressed and lazily strolled downstairs to a lovely breakfast patio. Y/N was over the moon internally about how touchy Lando became with her. His and on her lower back was something she could get used to very quickly. Y/N noticed few looks coming their way as they sat down and could not quite pin down why. First thing on her mind was that they looked a cute couple. She disregarded that as she remembered that she was sitting here with Lando Norris.
"Did you notice that people were looking at us?" she remarked over her morning coffee.
"Yeah...But like in a different way than they usually stare at me. Fuck it honestly, we have few hours before return to the madness so let's just chill," he smiled without a care in the world. Y/N relaxed again. They chatted away for few minutes before an older Italian lady, one of the fellow guests, approached them. Lando was almost ready for a photograph and a plea for confidentiality - that was until she opened her mouth and started screaming at them in Italian. He had no idea what any of those words meant, so he searched for a clue on Y/N's face. The poor girl sat there with a red face, making it really hard for Lando not to laugh at this situation, so he sipped his tea to hide his mouth. Once this lady left, silence fell over. Quite few people were giving them looks.
"Was she commenting on my hair?" asked Lando to ease the tension. "I am having an exceptionally good hair day."
Y/N took a deep breath. "From what I've gathered, we are both absolute filthy pigs, who have no manners and use this nice hotel as a brothel."
"Ah, nice. Cool!" Lando respectfully waved at the angry lady.
"Do you think we were like loud yesterday?" It was wrong how proud it had been making him.
"We're in Italy for god sake, isn't it all suppose to be little louder here?"
Y/N shot him a look. He sent her a wink.
Time was a cruel lady. The pair was starting to reach the final minutes of their encounter. The quickly wrapped up their breakfast, sharing amused looks in silence. Lando felt a strange discomfort when he saw her checking out the time.
//
They were back kissing in their hotel room in minutes. It was impossible to do anything else. They were making out on the bed when the housekeeper came in. Lando stopped them in the door: "Late check out, please! Late check out. Yeah, thanks." He then turned back to Y/N. "I'm not done with you, honey." With a cheeky look on his eyes, he began to remove Y/N's shorts and underwear.
"Pretty," he commented once she was naked. She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. Lando went onto putting slow kisses from her feet all the way to her thighs, testing which spots worked the best. Once he was almost the top of her thighs, he looked up to her and gently bit. When he saw that she was ok with it, he used more force. Y/N let out a shy scream of pain, the kind of pain that is dancing on the edge of pleasure and aching.
She moaned his name softly, as his tongue continued where it had started and abruptly ended the night before. She touched his hair and held his head in the place. Lando enjoyed her being demanding. He varied his moves and meticulously burned her reactions into his memory as if he was suppose to be completing his exams on this. Once he fund the specific moves she responded to the most, he repeated those until she could not continue no more. He watched as she reached the high for two times. There were few things making him feel genuinely proud of himself like this has. This what people meant when they described mindblowing, Y/N realized. "Come here to me," she demanded once she was done. Lando went to cuddle with her, face to face, watching her breath slowing down again. The laid like this for few minutes, neither of them wanting to break the silence. Until one of them had to.
"We'll need to get going so you don't miss your flight," Lando whispered. Y/N wanted nothing else then to miss her flight and stay stuck in this room with him.
"Yeah, I know. Just one more minute."
//
The drive to the airport was unusually quiet. Lando had his flight later than Y/N did, but insisted on going with her earlier to accompany her. Airports were becoming her least favorite thing, as another goodbye was knocking on the door. They held hands casually all the way to the check in. Another last kiss. The kind to leave sting.
"Give me something of yours. So that I have something to remind me of you," he asked softly. Taken back a bit, Y/N took her necklace off and handed it to him and exchanged it for Lando's hoodie.
Y/N was the last passenger to board the plane taking her back home. Lando had the same coffee at the same place as he did yesteday, only this time it had a weirdly bitter aftertaste. He played with her necklace, she wore his hoodie trying to soak his perfume in while it was still fresh.
//
First hangover is always the worst. Pains in weird places one did not know existed, blood flowing in a strange pace. Everything slightly out of place and sun just a little too bright on the tired eyes. Y/N got drunk a little too quickly on her racer crush and the come down was more like a vertical crash down.
The evening she arrived back home was a joyous one. She got out the plane and almost danced all the way to the train heading to the centre. Met up with her friends and would just not shut up about her time with Lando. Unstoppable force that would talk the most skilled politician into listening her talk about the way his hair curled and his touch burned. Like every other drug addict, once the reality hit and the high lost its intense hue, she crashed.
What was supposed to happen now? Monday morning rolled in and new chapter began. The darkest thoughts she kept at bay for long enough got landed the main role. It was just a hook up to him. Nothing more. He was way beyond her league. She gave him what he wanted and he will not be able to give her what she wants. He is already is somebody else's arms by now. All the other guys will be just a different shade of gray compared to the bright orange that followed his charming aura.
"Y/N? Yes, she is a hard to get bitch, she will not fall easily for just about anyone. Not the relationship kind, that's for sure", is how she'd probably get described as by her friends. Her best kept secret was that she was an absolute hopeless romantic. Fell a little too hard for every crush she had and never found a way how to attract those she wished to spend her days and nights with. Her evening with Lando was the closest she got to her deepest dreams coming true. Every other situationship she has had in the past was so dull compared the how loudly this one screamed. So of course, when no messages came in from him, her natural instinct to draw herself back kicked in. A lovely coping mechanism that has destroyed lots of chances in the past. Even though she was well aware of that, it was the road she knew how to walk and somehow could not help herself to avoid it.
A lifeless copy of the bubbly girl from this weekend roamed the halls of Bologna university, digging her self into a deeper hole than needed. All those sad songs suddenly made sense.
//
Life came back screaming loudly at Lando. As soon as he landed back it was one thing after another to make up for the time. Races comes first, always. Even if it does not on that day naturally, there will always be several people to force it upon him. In those randomly scattered moment where his mind could run freely, he immediately went back to the salt cured late night air in Italy and the kisses with the one who'd been occupying his mind for longer than he'd be willing to admit. Life demanded a lot from him, so daydreaming had to be put on hold.
One thought haunted Lando no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Y/N was just so pure in his eyes. Unaffected by clouds of fame, free in whatever she wanted to do whenever she desired to. Not having to face constant criticism and prying looks. He still hadn't processed fully the effect this has had on his relationships in the past. How it gradually changed the tone of the romance, until it destroyed it completely. He fell for her hard. Fascinated by the lightness that surrounded her. She radiated, lifting him up to her heights when he was with her and that was something you just could not buy.
She was grounded. Belonged somewhere, was a local and a regular. Had a life centred in one place (mostly, excluded family), group of university friends and was figuring this life out on her own, without anyone inserting their own ambitions into her. There were no people relying on how she did and he almost envied the freedom this provided her. A feeling he was sure she could not properly understand, as he did not as well before responsibility had been thrusted on him.
He loved his formula 1 life. But a part of him felt strangely inadequate around those who have had these student life experiences. She could do anything.
He needed time to think about his next move, if there was any to ever happen. Gut feeling was to fly her out here to spend time with him, introduce her to everyone that walked by and make sure she falls for him at least half as strongly as he fell for her. On the other hand, he also felt like clumsy giant trying to pick up an origami dove - once he would, he would inevitably crush her and damage the wings, the kind of she did not know she had. The kind of wings one starts to see only once they are impaired. Maybe keeping their affair as it was now was the only way how to keep the light in this memory.
But at night, when the noises of his busy life went quiet and the the intrusive thought we like "yeah baby, let's go", he buried himself deep in his favorite sad songs and dreamed of touching her again, of seeing her smile and of her proudly introducing him to her friends. Sleep was something Lando struggled with even on a normal day, but on days like these it was like as if it was a secret language he was never taught to speak.
//
Jealous. That’s what Y/N was. In the ugliest sense of the sinful word. Gone was any internal morale compass guiding her to not go against other girls. Feminism said goodbye when she scrolled down endless adoring comments on his fan page.
She did not give two shits about his fame or god forbid money. When she met him, she had no idea what he meant to so many people. A cheeky well dressed funny boy with a dream, that’s what she saw. Seeing the pure adoration thousands of people had for him was overwhealming. So in the random moments between other people talking, she imagined meeting him in another life, one where he was just one of the other students and she finally got to relive the uni romance she had wished for - cute study dates, making out at parties and sitting at local balconies, over looking the historical town. It was becoming a little too consuming. Like a headache that won’t go away.
She wondered why - why was there a huge ever-present hole in her stomach making her nauseous.
part 7
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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @llando4norris @ophcelia
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#ln4 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris angst#meet cute#fluff#slowburn#slow burn fic#lando norris fluff#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 fanfic#ln4 x reader#i'm sorry#there will be more#smut#ln4 x y/n#lando norris x y/n
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Oh, Sassy
Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,610 Request: Anonymous. May I ask for Dean getting to know a car girl who is also a chef (like she loves food and stuff)? Take care of yourself and drink enough! Xx
“Y/L/N!” Your boss called out, making you slide out from under the car you were under.
“Yeah?” You called back as you got up and made your way to his office. “What’s up?” Leaning on his door frame, you crossed your arms. “I was just finishing up Mr. Carson’s car. You know the one you jumped down my throat about this morning?” You raised an eyebrow.
Your boss gave you a bored look. “This is Dean Johnson.” He sighed, motioning to the man sitting across from him. “New hire. He’s gonna be shadowing you while he gets used to the garage. Probably only a couple days.” He shrugged.
You gave Dean a small wave. “Why me? I work odd hours because of the restaurant.” You reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to shadow one of the guys who are here all day?”
“Nate’s last day is Friday, he’s moving, remember? Then Gage threatened the last guy I hired within two hours and made him quit. Kyle is…Kyle.” All you could do was nod at that, knowing exactly what he meant. Kyle was nice, but a bit out there.
Sighing, you nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m only here for another hour. It’s up to him if he wants to help me on Mr. Carson’s car or meet me here tomorrow morning.”
“I’m here, might as well start, right?” He smiled as he got up. “Nice to meet you.” Dean held out his hand for you.
You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N/N. Let’s go get started. Do you have something to change into?”
He glanced at his clothes, then at you. “Should I? I usually work on cars in jeans and a t-shirt. Sometimes I’ll throw on a jumpsuit.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, we had jumpsuits when I first started, but we all got tired of wearing them.” You motioned for him to follow you to the car. “Right now I’m finishing up this old 1993 Pontiac Bonneville. Mr. Carson will be in first thing tomorrow morning to pick it up, so you’ll meet him then.”
“You make it sound like he’s a grumpy old man.” He chuckled.
“Sometimes.” You said simply, wanting to get back to work.
Finally, you were clocked out and walking through the parking lot. You lived just a couple blocks away, so you didn’t bother to drive. You had an hour and a half to clean up and get to your second job. “Need a ride?” Came Dean’s voice, making you look over. He was standing next to a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala.
“Nice car.” You motioned. “But I’m good. I live a couple blocks away.” You shrugged. “Thanks, though.”
“Anytime.” He said simply before getting in.
The next day, you yawned as you walked in, downing a large Monster Ultra. “Those things will kill ya.” Dean told you from where he was leaning against the wall.
“But it keeps all you guys alive after I’ve worked most of the night.” You gave him a sarcastic smile. “And why are you out here…and not in the garage? Are you in time out?”
“Oh, sassy. Nice.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been put in time out before?”
“Gage got mouthy my first week here, so I might have superglued a couple of his tools to his bench.” You shrugged.
Dean threw his head back, laughing. “Oh, that’s hysterical. My brother would do that to me. Don’t give him any ideas if you ever meet him.” He shook his head. “And no, I’m not in time out. I was told to wait out here for my ‘babysitter’ by one of the guys. He didn’t give me a name.”
You nodded, motioning for him to follow you to the back. “That would be Nate.” You told him. “Bummed that he’s leaving.” He was a chill guy overall, and didn’t really get mouthy like Gage. And he was all there, unlike Kyle.
“So, you said you worked most of the night. Second job?”
“Yeah, I’m a chef.” You finished your drink and tossed the can into the recycling bin.
His eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re a mechanic and a chef?” Dean couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed, then remembered hearing you mention a restaurant the day before. Now that made sense. “Couldn’t pick one?”
Laughing, you pulled your hair into a pony tail. “Nope. I used to help my dad work on cars when I was a kid. He died when I was 13, and I kept it up. When I was 15 I got sick. I binged Food Network for a few days. I went to culinary school when I graduated. Couldn’t find a job as a chef right away, so I got a job as a mechanic right outside of town. After working there a year, I finally landed a job as a chef. Quit my other job. And that seemed to be okay for a bit, but something was missing.”
“You missed being a grease monkey.”
You nodded. “I really did. Started working here about 9 months ago. Bossman likes to get on my case. I think it’s because I’m the only girl, but he’s not a bad guy.” By now you were used to it, and just dealt with it. “What about you? What’s your story, Johnson?”
“Traveled a lot as a kid, and kept it up after my dad died about a year and a half ago. Finally decided I was tired of it. So, me and my brother picked a spot to stay put for a while.” Dean knew he was omitting details, but he didn’t feel he was truly lying to you. How could he say he was wanted by the FBI? And that his family had hunted spirits up until recently? That his brother had psychic powers? He would be honest as much as he could, while keeping out other things.
“Losing a parent is tough. I’m sorry for your loss.” You said honestly.
“Y/L/N. Mr. Carson is here for his car!” Your boss called down the hall.
“Coming!” You called back before glancing at Dean. “Ready to see if he’s a grumpy old man today?”
You and Dean got along great, and you found yourself crushing on him as the days went by. He was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have a friend at work. A couple weeks after he started, you approached him at lunch. “Hey, De? I have a question.”
He grinned at you. “De, I like it. What can I do for you?”
“There’s this awards thing for all the chefs in the state this weekend, and I kinda don’t want to go alone…” You explained awkwardly. “I was wondering if you’d come with me?”
“Like a date?” He licked his lips, clearly flirting with you.
There was no way to stop the blush that formed on your cheeks. “I-if you’d like.” Why turn down a date with a fun, nice, and handsome guy?
“Do I need a suit?”
“Unless you have a tux.” You joked. “But a suit should be fine.”
Dean sipped his soda. “Guess we’ll have to exchange numbers. I can drive. We can arrive in style. Unless you have a nicer car than Baby, which I doubt.”
“I have nothing as pretty as her.” You told him. “Dinner will be served at the awards, as well, so we’ll be well fed.”
“Do I get to try your cooking?” He was curious, that was for sure.
You pretended to think. “Maybe on our second date.”
Dean leaned against Baby as he waited for you downstairs. He stood up straight when he saw you come out. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.”
“You look very handsome, too. You didn’t have to rent a tux, though.” You smiled.
“It’s an awards thing, right? Gotta look good.” He brushed over the front of his jacket. “And clearly I needed it because you look… wow .” It wasn’t like him to be this speechless, but he was so used to seeing you in a tank top and jeans. He was used to seeing you with grease all over you, your hair pulled up out of your face. “Shall we?” He moved to open the door for you.
Smiling, you stepped forward. “We shall. And hey, maybe you’ll be a good luck charm and I’ll win an award.” It would mean a lot to you if you did.
“Hi, Dean, come in.” You opened your apartment door for him. The date to the awards had been a blast, even if you didn’t win anything. When he dropped you off after, you kissed his cheek and asked him out on a second date for the next night. Dinner at your place.
His face lit up when he saw you. “Hi, sweetheart.” He greeted you. “Oh, these are for you.” He held out a bouquet of flowers.
Smiling, you took them. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You shut the door behind him once he was inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, water, soda, milk?”
“Beer. Thank you.” He looked around your living room as you went to put the flowers in some water and get him a beer. “So, something smells amazing.” His mouth was watering.
“Thank you.” Handing him his beer, you sipped your own. “Baked potatoes are almost done, and then I’m making some steaks with butter garlic onions. Then, for dessert, homemade cherry pie.”
“Love me some cherry pie.” Dean winked. “Sounds delicious, sweetheart.” One perk about staying in one place was not having to microwave his meals. “Maybe for our next date I’ll have you over for burgers. I make a mean bacon cheeseburger. I’m sure I can tell my brother to scram for a few hours.” He was already mentally planning a few dates for the two of you, wanting to spend as much time as he could with you. He pictured taking you to the movies, out to eat, to the beach, and to the fair. Maybe walking away from hunting was the best thing that happened to him because he’d met you.
You smirked at him. “What? Are you worried your brother is more charming than you?” You teased him.
He chuckled and shook his head. “More like I don’t want my baby brother around while we’re on a date.” He countered before taking a swig of his beer. “Want any help?” He asked when your timer went off.
“Sure. Can you get the cheese and sour cream from the fridge and put them on the table? And how do you like your steak? Warning: you say well done and I’m kicking you out.” You gave him a playful look. You couldn’t help it, he made you feel fun .
“You wound me. Do I look like the kind of douche that would order ‘well done’?” He put his hand on his chest. “Medium-rare, thank you.”
“Good boy.” You winked before heading to start the steaks. Hearing Dean groan lightly, you giggled to yourself.
One year from the date of that awards show, you were moving into the house that Sam and Dean rented. You got along with Sam, and had no problems with him staying. If anything, you felt it was a really good idea. Because you had two jobs, there were technically four incomes for one home (also, because you worked two jobs…you did the least amount of housework, only doing it on your days off). “That was the last box.” You grinned as you saw Dean coming down the stairs. “I am officially all moved in.”
“Awesome.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Sammy has to work until 5, so he said he’ll meet us for dinner.” He took the box from you and went to take it upstairs.
“So, this means we have a few hours to ‘celebrate’? Just us?” You followed him, eyes on his butt. “I work tonight, so right now would be perfect.”
“I like how you think, sweetheart.” The two of you just seemed to fit together perfectly.
“I’m home!” You called out as you shut the door behind you.
“You’re early.” Dean glanced at the clock. “Like…4 hours early. What’s wrong?” He saw the look on your face and rushed to you.
You sniffed. “Uh, remember Darla?”
He nodded. “Yeah, the older waitress that told you she wanted to pinch my cheeks? Everything okay?”
“She didn’t come in for her shift tonight, which is really unlike her. She has never missed a shift without calling, and even that’s rare.” You started. “So we sent Jimmy, the busboy, to check on her.” Your voice broke. “Poor Darla…Poor Jimmy.”
“Baby, what happened?”
“Her door was busted in. And sh-she was dead. Brutally killed.” He pulled you to him, holding you tight as you cried. “We closed early for the night, and the cops came to talk to everyone before we got sent home.”
He hated that you were hurting, but beyond thankful that you weren’t the one that went to check on her. You didn’t need to see something like that. “Do they have any idea who killed her?”
You shook your head. “I asked one of the officers how she died. The look on his face…” You breathed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “He said he’s never seen anything like it, and if he didn’t know any better, that a bear got her.”
“A bear?” He furrowed his brows.
“That’s how bad she looked.” Letting out a breath, you stepped back. “I’m going to take a hot shower and take a couple sleeping pills.” You kissed his cheek softly.
He nodded, rubbing your arm. “I’ll be up shortly.” Sam was supposed to be home from work soon, and wanted to talk to him about this. Something in his gut told him his two years in town were coming to an end. He watched you slip off your shoes and then make your way upstairs. He’d stay and grow old with you if he had the choice. Part of him had let himself dream about an actual future with you. The two of you working on Baby with a little you. Him watching you teach a little him how to properly chop on onion. Clenching his jaw, he forced down the tears.
“Dean?” Sam paused in the door. “What’s going on?”
Looking at his brother, he didn’t have to say a word. He saw that Sam understood what was going on. Sam knew that them living away from the supernatural was over. He was angry enough that he was losing his apple pie life, but even angrier that Sam was losing his. His baby brother had really just started letting his guard down in the last 6 months or so. Just in time for it to blow up in their faces.
Dean jerked awake when his phone rang. “Hello?” He yawned as you shifted besides him. “Bobby?” He sat up. Dean had called him now and then to check in, but Bobby never called him.
“You still in that town you told me you settled in?”
“Yeah, we are.” He said softly, glancing at you before slipping out of bed. He didn’t want to risk waking you up.
Bobby sighed. “Been hearing rumors from the town about half an hour away. Sounds like a crossroads demon.” He warned him. “I don’t know if it ever went your way…”
Dean groaned. “It has.” He knew that was what tore Darla apart. “Y/N/N’s coworker must have been one of them. She came home upset, and I can’t blame her. Darla was always nice.” He ran a hand over his face. “We had planned to keep an eye out just in case.”
“Not gonna lie, was hoping it woulda passed your town by.” Bobby told him.
Standing in the kitchen, Dean looked out the window into the backyard. The same backyard that you had just been lounging in the day before, in the bikini you’d bought just to wear for him. “Maybe it’s a sign, Bobby.” He said, letting his emotions show. “Maybe it’s a sign I need to get out of town. What’s next? Werewolves? Vampires? I can’t let her die.”
“Dean, you’ve been there two years.” Bobby pointed out. “In those two years I’ve heard you happier than I ever have before. You’ve sounded more alive than ever before.” He was clearly trying to talk Dean out of leaving. “That woman loves you! And from what Sam says, she’s perfect for you. Walk away now, and you’ll always wonder what could have been.”
“What happens if we decide to have a family one day, and then something comes after them? What if I can’t protect them?”
“Boy, that’s a question every parent has. To this day I wonder the same damn thing! You boys might be hunters, but you’re my boys. At least think about things.”
Sighing, Dean closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bobby. We’re leaving.”
Waking up, you rolled over to cuddle Dean, but he wasn’t there. “De?” You blinked, slipping out of bed. Usually, if he couldn’t sleep, you could find him in the garage, so that’s where you went. “De?”
He whipped around, blocking the trunk. “Baby?” He had clearly been crying.
“What’s going on? What the hell is that in your trunk?” You moved over to look. “Why do you have so many weapons?” Your eyes went to him. “Why were you crying?”
“Let’s go inside to talk. Sammy, why don’t you go start packing my clothes?” He glanced to Sam, who was off to the side.
“Why does he need to pack your clothes?” Why weren’t you getting any answers? You pulled your arm from him as he tried to lead you away from Baby. “Talk to me!”
“My name isn’t Dean Johnson.” He swallowed. “My name is Dean Winchester, and up until I moved to town…Sammy and I traveled the country hunting things.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Hunting things? Like deer?”
“I wish.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Vampires, ghosts, demons, wendigos.” He listed.
Blinking, you tried to let that sink in. “You’re telling me that’s all real?” You stared at him. “Say I believe you, why leave now? Why try to leave in the middle of the night?”
“Because Darla was killed by a hellhound. She must have made a crossroads deal and her time was up.” He explained. “It was a wake up call. We can’t escape that life.”
“You’re leaving me, us, because someone else was killed?” Of course you cared about Darla, but what did she have to do with your relationship with Dean?
“What if the next thing that comes through targets you?”
“By that logic- you running away from your girlfriend is running away from protecting her!” You countered. “What if something comes through, and you aren’t here? What then, Dean?!”
“Us being here is like a beacon. Bad things just follow us.”
You shook your head. “So, what the hell was the last 2 years? What bad happened then?” You locked your eyes on his. “What ‘bad thing’ followed you over these past 2 years?”
He looked down. “Nothing.” He admitted. “They were the best 2 years of my life. I let myself hope for things that I can’t have.” He managed.
“Who the hell says you can’t have them? I’m here, aren’t I? I love you, and I think I’m pretty fucking good!” You threw your hands up.
“Sam got out once. Had the apple pie life. It got his girlfriend killed.” He told you. “I can’t let that happen to you. I love you too much.”
Clenching your jaw, you stepped closer to him. “So don’t let it.” You said firmly. “Teach me.”
Dean whipped his head up to stare at you. “What?” He breathed.
“Teach me. I’m a fast learner.” Your heart was pounding in your chest. “We stay right here while you teach me anything I have to know. I’m sure there’s a way to make this house safe, right?” He nodded a bit. “Then we do that. I’ll quit my job as a chef, and we keep working. All three of us. You teach me until you think I know what I need to know. Then we can leave.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. You have a life here.” The pain couldn’t be hidden from his eyes. “You don’t want to live motel to motel. Eating shitty food and sleeping on crappy beds.”
You cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile. “You know why I want to do this?”
“Why?”
“Because I love you too much to let you walk away from me.” You kissed him softly. “I can’t see my life without you. We all have some money put aside, and we can put even more aside between now and when we leave. That’ll get us a couple nicer motel rooms now and then, right?”
Dean looked in your eyes, wondering how the hell he got so lucky to find you. “You believe me?”
You took a breath. “Mostly.” You admitted. “It’s a hard thing to wrap my head around, but I’m sure as you tell me more, and as you teach me- I’ll come around.” Your heart told you to trust what he was saying. “Please, let’s go back inside, tell Sam to stop packing, and talk.”
“You won’t hate me for taking you from the two things you love? Cooking and working on cars?”
“I’d hate myself for letting you walk away.”
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uptown girl // mickey "fanboy" garcia
soft kisses shared in the bar light after a game of pool
she would do anything for her nerd boy. except maybe meet his friends in a crowded bar with a pool table where she can make a fool of herself in front of all of her boyfriend's friends. it's a good thing that mickey is a good teacher.
pairing: mickey "fanboy" garcia x female! reader
author's note: he had like four lines and i was prepared to go to war for this man.
the hard deck hummed with activity as she parked her car, flicking off the manual headlights before glancing at her phone, which was pinned to it's magnetic holder on the dashboard.
it wasn't too late to text mickey and tell him something had come up, was it?
as she was thinking it, as if mickey could hear her, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text message from her beloved.
mickey: hey sweet girl, are you almost here? everyone is so excited to meet you!
she sighed, switching the music off and cutting the engine, sitting in the dark car and waiting for the heated seat to lose its warmth. her relationship with mickey garcia was still very new.
they had only been together for a few months, having met at an eighties rock-and-glow dance night. she was standing by the stage, dressed in skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that glowed fluorescent in the blacklight, an old-timey glass sprite bottle in her hands as she sang bonnie tyler at the top of her lungs. he was the best dancer there, with a goofy personality that captivated her from the moment he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a slow dance to 'heaven in your eyes'.
deciding to rip the band-aid off, she grabbed her tote bag from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car, sea breeze cutting deep and sending a chill down her spine as she walked up the weathered steps to fightertown's navy bar.
her sweet boy was impossible to miss, his smile lighting up the whole bar as he stood next to the pool table, his short-sleeved button shirt untucked from his crisp blue jeans.
as nervous as she was, it was hard not to smile when she saw him, watching as he leaned over the table to delicately knock a striped ball into one of the pockets in the corner of the table. after the shot, he looked up, and infectious grin breaking out over his face when he saw her.
"hey, pretty girl." he beamed, passing his pool cue to a woman in a black turtleneck and jeans before he sidestepped the table and pulled his lover into an embrace. "i'm glad you came."
"hi, mickey." she smiled, kissing him softly. "i've missed you."
"are you ready to meet everyone? or do you want something to eat first? i can order you a plate of onion rings-"
she laughed softly, taking his hand in hers. she loved how attentive and sweet he was, always trying to dote on her whenever he could. when they were together, he hated letting her pay for things, even if it meant dipping into his not-enormous navy salary "mickey, it's okay. i have time to meet your friends before i order."
with a soft kiss to the side of her head, mickey looped his arm around her shoulders and they headed towards the pool table. "guys, this is y/n. my girlfriend."
she underestimated how much her heart would swell at hearing mickey say those words. hearing someone declare to the world that they had chosen her.
"y/n, this is natasha, jake, robert, bradley, hallie and javy."
"hello!" she squeaked, waving at the group. "nice to finally meet you guys, mickey has told me so much about you guys."
robert laughed, reaching out to shake her hand. "and mickey has told us even more about you. fanboy loves to talk."
she never though she'd meet someone who talked as much as she did until she met mickey. they could talk for hours, about anything and everything. when they were together, she suspected it would drive the people around them insane. except she didn't know how his friends would react, what they would think of her.
they made small talk for a little, while some of the guys and natasha all took their turns at the pool table. it was team game, although the teams seemed to be a little unbalanced in terms of skill level. mickey had pulled her into his lap, gently rubbing circles on the skin underneath her peasant top.
jake leaned over the table, his pool cue hitting the white ball, white harmlessly dusted the side of the ball he was aiming for, plunking down in the basket.
"god damn it, hangman!" javy groaned
natasha laughed, high-fiving bradley. "sucks to suck, bagman!"
mickey shifted in his chair, hands running up her sides. "our turn, pretty girl. do you want to try?"
she turned back to him, a small glint of panic in her eyes as she took his hand in hers. "i'm not very good."
bradley snorted, taking a sip of his budweiser. "we're miles ahead of hangman, you could break the table and we'd still be ahead of them."
"go on." mickey encouraged, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. "i'll guide you."
she stood up, still clutching his hand in hers as she moved towards the pool table. hallie passed her a pool cue, and she stood nervously by the table until mickey came up behind her. his hands were warm through her jeans, his back against hers as he guided her into the correct position.
"you got this, sweet girl." he said quietly, kissing the side of her head gently, his hands over hers on the cue. "it's a straight shot into the basket."
mickey stepped back, his hands still on her waist as she took the shot, hitting with just enough force for the white ball to send the orange solid ball into the basket.
one fell swoop.
mickey's side of the pool table started to cheer, and her cheeks flushed pink as she turned around to wrap her arms around mickey, hiding her face from the crowd.
"great job, my darling girl." mickey laughed, kissing her softly. "are you sure you haven't played pool before."
"my grandfather had a table in his basement." she said sheepishly, leaning the cue against the table to she could slip her hands into mickey's back pockets. "but i haven't played a proper game since I was twelve. he sold the table when they sold the house."
"maybe you'll have to play more often." mickey said, leaning in to kiss her softly. "i love you."
"i love you too."
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @httpiastri
#mickey garcia x reader#mickey fanboy garcia x reader#top gun imagine#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader#fanboy x reader#fools in love! event
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I absolutely LOVE your writing, it's so nice to see eddsworld content especially this good <33 can I request Tord with a very shy partner? No pressure ofc, take your time!
Thank you!!! My neurons were absolutely firing with this piece, for realsies. It may not be exaactly what you envisioned? And I was trying not to make the Reader be the stereotypical "uwu im so shy sowwy" kind of shy? You know what I mean? Either way, I hope you enjoy, and if its not quite what you wanted, PLEASE feel free to send me an inbox message letting me know !!!
Run, Rabbit, Run. | Tord x Shy! Reader
Warnings: Mostly Tord's POV, not the fluffiest? it has a happy ending, but Tord is naturally a kind of fucked-up person.
---
Tord had a problem.
He doesn't have problems often, and certainly not problems he can't solve.
It wasn't every day that he wanted to be around someone - craved it. He acted like he only tolerated his roommates, kept the truth locked away under thick layers of steel.
But you. He sought you out, needed you like it ached. Your presence.
You, however, ran from him. Every time. Fled like a rabbit that had caught a glimpse of the stalking wolf. Scurried back to your burrow, safe and protected by densely packed earth. Where he could not reach you. It grinded at his patience, made him clench his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth. He walked into a room, you found an excuse to walk out. It was a constant among the chaos and unpredictability of their house.
The one thing that he needed like a dying man, and he couldn't have it. You wouldn't give it to him.
A problem.
He was going to fix this problem, if it meant the death of him.
And who was he but a stubborn man?
--
His opportunity came during a lazy Sunday afternoon.
The other three were all out, running errands and such. You were still home. Doing laundry, from the sound of it. He wasn't surprised, you liked to use Sunday as the day to do your household chores, reset for the coming week - not that he had been paying attention to your habits. No. Just coincidence.
From the garage, he could hear you. The wall that his workbench sat against was one that was shared with the laundry room, so it wasn't difficult. If he sat still, focused enough, he could practically imagine it. You, in your crop t-shirt and little sleep shorts that you always wore when you did laundry. Hair pushed out of your face. Dancing along to the music that he could hear playing from your phone - doing those silly, awkward dance moves that you did when you thought nobody was looking.
He wanted to be there. It was selfish, he knew. But that little undamaged piece of him sitting in his chest longed to join you. Insert himself into the little life that you had carved out for yourself in their house. Slot his own being so nicely beside your peace and quiet. You were so… unlike him. You were soft, sweet. Like the skolebrød of his childhood. You were vanilla and sugar. Unmarred by anything horrible in the world. That self-centered part of him wanted to take. To clamp his jaws down around your hind legs and sink his teeth in when you tried to escape.
Tord was moving before he even realized it.
You had moved out of the laundry room. Your music faded as you walked further into the house. If he remembered correctly (That phrase tasted bittersweet on his tongue. As much as he craved you, he didn't want to admit how actively he was chasing you. A wolf that resented the rabbit.) you would set about doing the dishes after depositing your empty laundry basket in your bedroom.
His mouth was dry. So he moved to the kitchen. To get water. (That's what he would tell you. That's what he would tell anybody who asked.)
The switch from the garage to the house was always jarring to the senses. The garage was cold, unprotected from the autumn chill. But the house was warm. Welcoming. Safe. (You were inside.) It was like sitting under a hot shower after catching hypothermia.
He stopped in the doorway.
There you were. In the kitchen. Dishwasher open. Your smartwatch was discarded on the kitchen table alongside your phone and water bottle. Music was still playing from the device's speakers. You were, just as he guessed, wearing your crop tee and shorts. (The collar was hanging low on one of your shoulders, bearing the skin to his vision. His hands itched.) You hadn't noticed him yet. Little rabbit unaware of the danger that lurks in the forest underbrush.
It was something beautiful watching you in your own little world. In public, you were so small. Reserved. Put a cork on your personality so that nobody could truly see who you were. To you, it felt like security. If nobody had access to your identity, then nobody could take it away. Nobody could judge you. Even home, with the boys, you were less than yourself. Not to the same degree, but still limited. They didn't take offense to it, they knew it wasn't you distrusting them. It's just how you were. But here, when you thought you were alone? The cork was removed and he loved to watch the bottle overflow.
You spun on your heel and nearly dropped the bowls in your hand from how hard you flinched at the sight of him. He could see the way that you drew in to yourself, made yourself smaller.
"Oh, um, hey. Tord. I didn't… realize you were home."
There was something tight in his chest at the way you looked so nervous. You shifted in your spot, looked anywhere but at him. He wanted you to look at him.
"I am."
You only answered with a soft 'oh' before turning back to the dishwasher. He remained still, watching. Clearly, you were looking for a way out, a chance to flee. Something he wasn't going to let happen.
"I should probably-"
"You keep avoiding me."
Your head shot up, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes. He dug his fingernails into his palms.
"What? No, no I haven't- I haven't been-"
"Do not lie to me."
It was cruel, yes, but it gave him the desired effect. You clammed up immediately. Shoulders slumped. Gave him just a little inch, but that was all he needed to take a mile. He stepped closer. You stepped back.
A snarling, drooling, hungry wolf, closing in on its prey.
Your back hit the counter. He stepped forward again.
A trembling little rabbit, cornered with nowhere to go.
He stopped a foot away from you.
"I have tolerated this for months. For months I have watched you run from the sight of me alone. As if the very idea of being in the same room as me is too much for you to bear. Do you even have any idea what you do to me? Do you know how it kills me?"
He could feel the way that you tensed up. A spike of anger stuck into his chest, burning hot. You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your shoes again. He forced his words out of his throat in the form of a growl.
"For fuck's sake, look at me. Look at- Look. At. Me."
Frustration boiled over, bubbling and spilling over the sides of the pot and he wasn't able to put the lid on it fast enough. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, holding it firmly between his index and thumb. Forced your eyes to focus on him. Only him.
A sick part of him preened at the little gasp that came out of your throat.
But you kept your eyes on him. Good girl.
"Tell me why you have been avoiding me."
His voice was softer now. He hated how much pain he could hear in it. How it trembled. He had hoped you wouldn't notice. But you did. Your mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed thickly. Then you spoke.
"I thought…. thought you didn't like me."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Him? Not like you? How could you think that? He could only hate you as much as a hunter hates Mother Earth for blessing him with food.
"You just… always seem so.. annoyed at me whenever I try to talk to you. And you never really… really talk back.. Just kinda… give short answers. I thought you found me annoying. I didn't want to keep annoying you. So I just… just backed off…."
He took a moment to process that. Let it all sink in.
He couldn't help it.
Tord began to laugh.
Through his laughter, he noticed you pout, heard a soft whine leave you. A groan ripped through his laugh at the sight. As if his body was working on autopilot, he surged forward. Pressed his lips to yours. He felt your gasp against his lips, then felt your melt into the kiss. You kissed back.
When his oxygen began to run short, he pulled away. Not too far, though. Kept his forehead pressed flush to yours. Took in the sight of you. You, panting softly, lips swollen from the kiss. Looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes.
"I have never hated you, kjære. I am… aloof. I have a resting bitch face. You are not the first person I have unnerved. But.. you are the first that I have wanted to be close to. If you would have me."
Courtesy. Formality. Tord was a stubborn man, and when he managed to get a taste of blood, he clamped his jaws down tight and didn't let go.
And this rabbit laid down in his teeth willingly.
You smiled.
"I'd like that. Yeah."
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a kiss, my panacea
name: a kiss, my panacea pairing: Frankie Morales x gn!Reader word count: 917 summary: frankie has a rough reaction to the flu shot, but you're there to make it all better content/warnings: sickfic, mentions of vaccinations, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, established relationship, no beta author’s note: this is for the roll-a-trope challenge by the wonderful @burntheedges. masterlist here. Somehow I've never written a sickfic, so this was new for me!
“Hurts, baby.” Frankie’s already reaching for you again, drawing you into the broad expanse of his chest as if your proximity is what can heal his ailments. You hum sympathetically, lips pressing soft against the bicep smooshed against your cheek.
“I know, Frankie, that’s why you need to rest.” Your reminder is met with another groan, equal parts pained and stubborn. His skin is burning where it touches you, too hot to be comfortable, but you don’t move away. Instead, you nuzzle closer, a soft sigh of relief falling from his lips as you settle in his arms.
It’s been mere hours since you sweet-talked Frankie down the obnoxious red and white aisles of a CVS pharmacy, promising you’d take care of him so long as he got his flu shot this year. He’d agreed for the reason he always did: He can’t say no to you. But more, he did you one better and got his other boosters too, just to make you smile. That was his downfall.
“I’m gonna get you that other Gatorade out of the fridge, baby.” You say softly, pushing gently against his pectoral to signal that he should let you up. His first response is an incoherent grumble, a tightening of his arms around you, pressing your cheek into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “Not thirsty.” He lies, despite the sticky sheen of sweat across his brow and the dry drag of his tongue through his mouth. In truth, he feels like he can’t remember the last time he had something to drink. He’s spent days in the desert feeling more hydrated than this. More alert, too, for that matter.
You aren’t so easily convinced, those lips he so loves pulling downward into a disapproving frown. You dodge him as he leans in to kiss it away. “Francisco…” He loves the way you say his name, except for when you’re saying it with that expression. That expression means that it’s a warning, an admonishment. He releases you reluctantly, a chill wracking his sore form at the loss of your touch. The blanket you supply him in your absence is a slim comfort. He closes his eyes as you step away, resting his head back against the arm of the couch.
You’re only gone a moment, long enough to grab a bottle from the fridge, but when you return he struggles to open them again. His vision is blurry when it settles on your sympathetic pout – another expression he would like to kiss away. You don’t give him the chance, pressing the cold bottle into his hand with strict instructions.
“Drink.” Your voice is soft, caring but still you leave no room for argument.
“One kiss?” He tries anyway, already cracking the lid off his drink like he knows what your answer will be. And he does. You press your lips together to suppress a smile, shaking your head at his stubborn obsession with your mouth. “I’m not really sick.” He reminds you, in earnest, as if that’s the issue. Just in case.
“Drink.” You repeat, lifting a hand to push his sweat-slick curls back off his forehead. He obeys this time, draining the bottle in six long swallows. It’s too sweet, his body so desperate for the electrolytes that the salt doesn’t even register on his tongue. He’s still thirsty, but would never admit it. It doesn’t matter when you take the empty, leaving to put it in the recycling and returning with a glass of plain water.
This time he reaches for the drink himself, his shoulders relaxing in relief as he swallows. A coaster makes it down beneath the glass just before he sets it down, his eyes already on you again, with no regard for the nice wood of the furniture. He pulls you into his lap, settling you over the soft fabric of the blanket. He should be lying down with his body aches, you both know that, but he doesn’t care right now. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as he wraps his arms around you and inhales your comforting scent.
“One kiss.” You agree finally, lips curling into a soft smile at the way his head immediately shoots up. You shift in his lap, laughing as he crowds you his forehead warm where he rests it against yours. “And then you rest.” He kisses you slowly, reverently, one hand resting heavy on your shoulder as he resists the urge to pull you in and open you up. He wonders if this ache in his bones is from illness or from the strength of wanting, from the way your presence tugs at him, makes him desperate to keep you close. You’re so gentle with him as you pull away, pressing sweet lingering kisses to his cheeks, to his nose, to his eyelids. It makes his heart squeeze painfully in his chest, the way you love him. As if he deserved it. As if he didn’t need to deserve it.
It chokes him up, keeping his protests quiet as you stand and make him lie down. It’s still lodged in his throat as you take up the space next to him, your head cradled against his chest, one hand resting softly on his stomach. He forgets the words when you pull the blanket over the both of you, stretching to make sure his feet are covered. “And then I rest.” He says instead, his arm tightening around your waist.
#Frankie Morales x Reader#Frankie Morales Fluff#Frankie Morales Reader Insert#roll a trope challenge#PPCU fluff#sickfic
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The Lucky One
Chapter One: Stay Stay Stay
Pairings: Feyre/Rhysand
Summary:
Feyre has spent the last two years of her life trying to be the perfect girlfriend for Tamlin. She's pushed away her friends, her sisters, her father… she even quit her job and started going to UCLA on his paycheck. Everyone who used to know her insists that she's losing herself, but Feyre knows better. Tamlin is kind, funny, smart-- even rich and handsome, as if that matters. Feyre is lucky to have him. Sure, she'd like him to respect her interests and loved ones a little more, but no one is perfect. Certainly no one who would go for her. Tamlin is the best she's ever going to have. Right?
TL;DR: Feyre leaves her toxic relationship with Tamlin and immediately lands herself a mega-rich Hollywood prince charming. AKA Rhysand
Read on Ao3 or under the cut:
Feyre blew out an anxious breath, pulling her phone out for the eighth time in the last five minutes. Her breath fogged in front of her face, the chill in the air only heightening her frustration.
Tamlin was supposed to be at the theater twenty minutes ago. It was the first date he’d planned for them in months, and Feyre had been grateful enough for the rare effort that she hadn’t even argued when he shot down her movie suggestion and begged to go see something he liked instead. She was happy to watch whatever war documentary had caught his attention, if only to spend time with him outside of his penthouse. It sounded ungrateful when she thought about it that way, but… was it so much to ask for him to show up on time?
Finally, her phone vibrated.
Tam <3: Sorry. Working late. Can’t make it. Wait up for me at home?
Shame flooded through her. Of course he’d have a reason. Yes, she wished he’d told her before she drove all the way out to the movie theater, but work had been killing him lately. She didn’t blame him for forgetting about their date, not when she apparently couldn’t be bothered to remember the kind of stress he was under. She should drive right back home and prepare something nice for when he got home– dinner, or cookies, or something like that– to apologize for doubting him. Not that she had expressed those doubts, but it was the right thing to do.
“Hey, stranger,” A voice called from behind her. Feyre turned sharply, and came face to face with her sister’s friend. Emerie stood beside a pretty blonde Feyre didn’t recognize. “You look lonely.”
“I was waiting for my boyfriend,” Feyre explained. “But he just cancelled, so I should be going.”
Emerie didn’t hide her look of distaste at the mention of Tamlin. The first time Feyre had brought Tamlin home to meet her family, Emerie and Gwyn had been bundled up in the living room with Nesta, the three of them engrossed in their monthly book club pick. Feyre had asked what manner of romance had struck their fancy this time, and Gwyn had immediately launched into a wonderfully enticing summary of the whole thing. Tamlin had kept quiet at the time, but had made his feelings clear the moment they had a moment alone. He didn’t want Feyre to spend too much time with her sister’s friends anymore. She had resisted at first, but after several lectures about their anti-intellectualist interests and the toxicity of Feyre not respecting his boundary, she relented.
The problem was that avoiding Emerie and Gwyn meant avoiding Nestwo ta as well. The two sisters had been slowly but steadily improving their relationship in the years before Tamlin, so when he came along it was no secret what– or who– had reopened the rift. Feyre knew that when Nesta was hurting, Emerie and Gwyn hurt as well. As such, Feyre was well aware of what they both thought of her boyfriend.
“That’s a shame,” the blonde said. “You’re all dressed up, and you’re already here… What movie were you going to see?”
“Uh, some war documentary, I think? I forget the name. He picked it.”
“You should come see The Night Court with us,” Emerie suggested.
The Night Court had been the movie Feyre wanted to see. Tamlin, who was an avid hater of all things chick flick and leading actors with “punchable” faces, had dismissed it immediately. She understood that romcoms were silly, and she didn’t even really know what the movie was about, but Feyre had always loved romantic movies, despite herself. Some part of her still felt compelled to go home and do something nice for Tamlin, but…
“Sure,” Feyre shrugged, “Why not? As long as you don’t mind me third wheeling your date.”
“It’s not a date,” the blonde corrected her quickly. “I’m straight.”
Feyre winced at her own assumption.
“Oh, my mistake. Sorry, I just thought–”
“Let’s go inside,” Emerie cut her off. She turned on her heel and marched through the glass doors, and Feyre and Mor followed suit.
“I haven’t heard much about this movie,” Feyre said, desperate to change the subject. “Just that it’s a romance.”
“I’ve heard a little too much about this movie,” Mor laughed. “I think the amount of rants I’ve been subjected to about on-set drama broke a few NDA laws.”
“Mor knows the main guy.” Emerie explained to Feyre.
“I don’t just know him,” the blonde– Mor– explained, “He’s my cousin.”
“Is it strange having an actor in the family?” Emerie asked.
“Not until thirst edits of him show up while I’m scrolling.” Mor followed her answer with a gagging sound.
Living in LA, it was common enough to run into people who knew one or two famous people, so Mor’s connection to this actor was anything but strange. Feyre decided not to mention that she had no idea who this man was. It wasn’t even until the movie started rolling that she learned his name.
Starring Rhysand Blackwood.
The film started, and Feyre smiled to herself, the imagery soft and sweet and the music upbeat. She didn’t know Emerie very well, and Mor was a complete stranger, but it had been so long since she had gone out like this. She didn’t have close friends outside of Tamlin and Lucien, so it was nice to just do things with other girls. Things like seeing a cheesy movie her boyfriend would have hated.
The smile disappeared from her face when he appeared on screen. He was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His pitch black hair was styled perfectly, a few loose strands of it falling attractively in front of his deep blue eyes. By the end of the next two hours, after several shirtless scenes and on-screen makeout sessions, Feyre was practically drooling.
As they emerged from the theater, Feyre let Mor and Emerie do most of the talking. Feyre had kept up with the plot decently enough, but all she could think about now was Rhysand. She doubted Mor would appreciate hearing Feyre rant about her unfairly attractive cousin.
“It was so good to see you again,” Feyre managed when they reached Emerie’s car. “I’ve missed you. And Gwyn.”
Emerie was silent for a beat, as if debating her next sentence.
“But not Nesta?” she said finally. Feyre winced.
“Of course I miss Nesta,” Feyre amended. “I just meant that it was nice to catch up. I know things have been weird.”
“Because your boyfriend hates us?”
“No!” Feyre hissed. Mor muttered some excuse and slipped into Emerie’s front seat. “He doesn’t hate you. It’s just– since we’re so committed, he doesn’t find it appropriate for me to be going out with single girls all the time. It’s a boundary of his that I have to respect.”
Feyre decided not to mention that Tamlin also found their hobbies to be degrading and unfit for a future wife. She didn’t agree, but if he wanted a mature and intellectual girlfriend, Feyre could be that for him. Even if most days all she wanted was to go out to brunch with some women her age and talk about things that would make Tamlin pop a blood vessel.
“Y’know, Nesta used to go on and on about her feisty little sister who didn’t take shit from anybody.” Emerie said. “What happened to you, Feyre? I mean, do you even have any friends anymore? Or are you only allowed to hang out with his friends now?”
“That’s none of your business.” And entirely too true. “I’m lucky to have him. He provides so much, and he asks for so little. If I want to be his wife, I have to learn how to compromise.”
“Is that what you want?” Emerie snapped. “To live like this forever? Pushing away your sisters and your friends for some stock bro influencer douchebag?”
Feyre couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m going home. Goodnight, Emerie.” Without another word, Feyre turned on her heel and left. Still, she couldn’t get Emerie’s words out of her head.
What happened to you?
Is that what you want?
To live like this forever?
Do you want to live like this forever?
Forever. Forever. Forever…
Feyre cursed under her breath when she finally got into the taxi and turned her phone back on. Under seventeen missed calls from Tamlin, there was a string of unread messages.
Tam <3: I’m home. Where are you?
Tam <3: Feyre, where the hell are you?
Tam <3: Answer your phone.
Tam <3: If this is because I skipped the movie, you should know that I find that very immature, Feyre.
Tam <3: This is childish, even for you.
Tam <3: ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
Tam <3: Why is your location off?
Tam <3: I swear to God, Feyre, if I find out you’re at a bar right now, we’re done.
Tam <3: Why did Morrigan just tag you in an Instagram story?
Tam <3: Things like this are why I made you give me your password. I don’t ever want to hear that “just trust me” bullshit again.
Tam <3: Just come home so we can work this out.
Shit, shit, shit.
Feyre: I’m so sorry. My phone was off. I’ll call you right now.
Feyre pressed the green call button. The phone rang and rang until she was greeted with his voicemail.
Feyre: Please answer. I’m coming home right now.
Feyre called again, to the same result.
Feyre: I just ran into Emerie and her friend. We decided to see a movie while I was there.
Another call, still no answer. Feyre blew out a shaky breath, desperate to hold in her tears. Everything would be okay. She would go home and talk to him, and he would understand. He had to understand.
#acotar#sarah j. maas#a court of thorns and roses#feyre archeron#rhysand#my first acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#feysand fanfiction
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The Constant (Geto)
CHAPTER ONE
Warnings: angst, derogatory slang (ball gargler), suggestive themes, yandere
Genre: Comfort, Angst
Word count: 2.7k
╭─────────────────.★..─╮
Suguru was different than the rest. At least that’s what you thought, having known him for so many years now. He’d always stood out. While others threw tantrums, he remained stoic, while others ogled, he respected, while others lied, he remained honest, while others judged, he remained understanding.
Suguru was always a safe space for you. That’s what you thought, having spent so many months and so many years by his side after his defect. The defect hardly mattered, nor did his tendency to lash out at the followers, or his distaste for “monkeys” or his switch to psychotic behavior.
You loved Suguru through and through. He was your home, your person, your moral compass, despite his lack thereof, and your ambition.
Now, as you both stood atop a rooftop, gazing out over the city below, his hair brushing past his shoulder and blustering out behind him. For the first time in weeks, and something that really only happened in front of you, he wore clothes that you thought suited him a bit better than those robes he constantly brandished. Something cleaner and more simple, a black t shirt a size too small and a pair of sweatpants with their usual sag near his ankles.
You would never admit it to Suguru, in fear of how he would react, but you’d spent the better part of your afternoon at Jujutsu High, speaking with Satoru. If Suguru found about your meeting behind his back, well… you were sure he wouldn’t take it well. At all. But it wasn’t any attempt to betray him, or break his trust. Rather, Satoru asked to meet, as he did every now and then; maybe once or twice every few months. Because whether Suguru realized it or not, his best friend still cared about him enough to contact his… lover(?) in hopes that you would catch up and tell him how everything’s going. If Geto was okay, if he still held bags under his eyes and if he still walked about brooding and the seeming epitome of depression.
So that’s what he did. Every couple of months, you’d receive a call from “DNI” on your phone, asking you to meet either at his house, the high school you once attended and taught at or at a park in order to simply catch up. It was nice, really. Not just to be able to catch a break from the responsibilities of being Geto Sugurus right hand and… lover(? [Or whatever you were to him]), but also speaking with Gojo calmly, without any qualms after so many years apart.
<<<
“Thanks for coming.” Satoru was always smiling, noting the absence of a smile on your face, and the way your expression had drastically changed. “I know it was a bit of a stretch, asking you to meet up.” He continues. The depressive look that had finally vanished from Sugurus eyes was replaced, perhaps stolen, by the same look you once bore, of brightness and certainty. You’d taken on new burdens and Suguru had released them. Heavy bags ran evento your eyelids, your cheeks carved in tighter and the clothes you once wore confidently becoming a size too big.
If seeing Suguru los himself in the same way only to defect hadn’t hurt Satoru, this surely had. Perhaps because the blame for his other friend losing herself could be placed entirely on Suguru or perhaps because the person you’d become was the plain opposite of who he knew you were. Or maybe because he wish he could help more, because the new version of you was more of a stretch from your true self than it was for Suguru or because he simply couldn’t watch it happen again.
“Satoru.” You try a smile, though it’s a shell of what it once was. The sight sends a chill through Gojo. It was as if you and Geto had entirely traded demeanors. A shame, and almost sickening to see, consider in the way you’d stuck by him following his defect. “It’s been a while.” The words are genuine but speaking alone is like spice on your tongue, a sharp reminder of your sore throat. There were so many potential causes, all being some direct or indirect result of accompanying Suguru. Sickness, his crudity the night prior, or the laughable amount of sobbing you still did every night. Whatever it was, you still held no regrets and told yourself you’d follow him to defect in every timeline and in every universe.
You loved Suguru.
“You look like shit.” Gojo said, the second thing he’d really said to you since the last time you saw him, so many months ago. You huffed a breath of humor. But suddenly, the playful lilt in his voice was gone and so was your attempt at a smile, your eye bags weighing you down. “What’s he done to you?” You didn’t answer when he asked, because really, he hadn’t done anything. You shook your head.
“Satoru. You have to understand how difficult this decision was for me.” You explained, finally able to explain your side. “The way I look now is no one’s fault but mine.” Satoru opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It was my decision to follow him and lead this life. The consequences are just…” you tried to explain but your throat closed up. “We’re more different than I thought we were.” Your tone was guilty, your voice shaking. Gojo shot you a look that was all but pitiful, his fists enclosing at his sides and the air filling with tension. “Don’t look at me like that.” you whispered, sighing. “I’ve second guessed myself enough, I can’t start regretting things now.”
He stepped forward and his hand was in yours, pulling you along to the desk chair. “I don’t pity you.” He explained, though his expression doesn’t waver and you grit your teeth. “You made the decision a lot of us were too scared to make.”
>>>
So every two months, you and Satoru would catch up, him bragging about his new students and you expressing your deepening love for Suguru, despite your differences. It had been nearly 2 years of this trend before you made a mistake. You’d spent just a little too long at Satorus house gaming and playing card games. It came out of no where, one night on the rooftop when Suguru turned to you after a few moments of silence.
A big smile split his face so you reached for his hand, offering a small one in return. “Sugu~ Should we make plans for a date this weekend? We still have a couple of days.” He intertwined your fingers before leaning forward to press a kiss onto your lips, consuming your mind whole like always.
It wasn’t long before his thin eyes were staring you down, a change in mood so sudden you almost flinched, his smile faded. The darkened bags under your eyes had not subsided, only deepened.
“Where have you been?” He asked, the night air chilly and the goosebumps on your skin evident beneath his touch against your neck. He all but ignored your suggestion, his grip tightening and his eyes boring into yours. It was clear to you, though maybe not to anyone else, Suguru was angry. “All day, while I was working with those monkeys to achieve our goals?” His voice deepened as he spoke, still the smooth and entrancing melody it always had been. There was a falling of his features, a darkening in his eyes and a pinch between his eyes.
“W…” you began, voice small and fearful. You’d always been a bit on edge around Suguru. After all he was Geto Suguru, the second most powerful sorcerer and a man who had time and time again shown how far he was willing to go, how much he was capable of changing and how ready he was to abandon everything he once claimed as his, in order to reach his goals and regardless of how unreasonable they seemed. “What?”
Of course while Satoru held the title of the strongest, he was the epitome of bubbles and sunshine.
Suguru was different in that regard, brandishing an aura that told all those around him that he was a dangerous man with a willpower and ability to detach that rivaled even the most stoic of warriors.
So when Sugurus body turned to yours and he stepped forward, you stepped back. Of course this only alerted him more.
“You reek of Satoru.” It was expected that Geto would be angry. His voice filling with a tone of betrayal and distaste. Still, the man was calm in lifting a his nose to a lock of your hair and inhaling the scent of his former best friend. Questions berated at his mind: Why had you done this? How did you hide it from him until now? When did you find the time to visit Gojo? Where had it even happened? But Geto remained silent, a silent expectance between you to know what he was thinking.
“Suguru it’s not-“ you tried for an explanation. No matter what you could say, it was all incriminating and nothing was good enough of an excuse to go behind his back. “I.. I didn’t do it to hurt you.” Suguru wrapped his lithe fingers around your upper arm and yanked you toward him, nearing his face to your neck and pushing your hair away to brush his nose against your skin. His voice was in your ear, a chill reminder of his uncanny control over you. His hand ran from your neck down your sternum and to your waist.
“I’ll kill both of you.” He hushed against your ear, a warning. You knew Satoru was stronger, but you also knew Suguru was being honest, and would die trying. It was that known sense of determination and unfiltered anger that scared you. The threat reverberated in your ear, making your chest pound with nerves. Then, you knew he had the wrong idea because of the way he pulled you against his body and looked down at you.
“Sugur, it wasn’t like that-“ he was quick to interrupt you, pressing his fingers into your back. Instead of coming off as a threat, it only spurred your reeling mind on, his touch a sharp contradiction to his cruel words.
“Going to another man’s house behind my back ‘wasn’t like that’?” You had no explanation really, only guilt and a heart that was easily swayed by your feelings for him. “I mean if you were gonna get with another man, you should have at least done a better job at hiding it-“ he plucked a white strand of hair from your shirt, eyeing it as it floated to the ground.
“-No!! No, Suguru, I promise you it’s not what you’re thinking!” You grabbed his hands in yours and watched as the pinch between his eyes dispersed, bringing up his palms to your face and holding him close. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He still held a look of suspicion, his fingertips then coming to brush against your skin.
“How is he?” Geto briefly changed the subject, gripping and tilting your head to the sides and pulling your shirt down just past each of your shoulders and then your collarbone to view your chest. Checking for any bruises or marks or… lovebites. The thought made him sick. The situation you two were in made him sick.
Your breath hitched in your throat, his touch like fire against your skin and leaving flames of desire in their wake.
“He’s good. He asked about you.” You smiled, his finger releasing your shirt only to grip your elbows and run up to the side of your head, haphazardly pushing away any hairs that followed the wind to obstruct his view of your face. “He misses you so much, so does Shoko.” Your face molded with sentiment, meeting his purple eyes, mulberry coated and sweet as such. “You know that, right?” You reached for his hand and pressed closer, not daring to mention his suspicion of you.
Suguru didn’t answer. Instead, he reached to get your hand in his and looked back into your eyes. “I don’t really want to hear it.” You sighed, but there was hint of emotion in his face you knew he kept well guarded.
Hurt?
A squinting in his eyes, the raise of his brows and pinches at the corners of his lips. “Especially when you went to visit Satoru.” His voice is dangerously low, offering you no comfort or inkling of a moment to explain any further. “At his apartment.” In all fairness, it was hard to question why Geto cared so much, seeing as he’d made it a point to ignore all your desires for a genuine relationship with him for the longest time. Rather than blatantly ignoring you, he’d strung you along for years until indirectly offering you something more.
At some level, it was more than you could hope for that he even allowed you to stick around. Much less that he allowed you in his bed every night. Then at some level, you thought it was the least you deserved to receive a proper relationship from him.
You loved each other, didn’t you?
“Suguru I told you it wasn’t like that-“
“Does it really matter what it was ‘like’ when you went to his apartment alone, to do God knows what?” He paused, the scowl on his features was not leaving room for another word from you, so you glued your lips shut. “What have you been doing all day that you smell like him???” The anger in his face was only growing with every moment. What could you really say? You knew it was wrong to go behind his back. And if it wasn’t, it gnawed at your heart every two months, as though you were doing Suguru a disservice, if not disrespecting him. “Did you fuck him?” He asked with a lilt in his voice that told you he was jumping to conclusions.
“God Suguru do you have to be so crude?” You scoffed and ripped away from his hold. “Of course I didn’t fuck him; we spoke.” Suguru looked out on the city below, and you knew he was not listening, only hearing your words. “Because when I decided to stick by your side for years and when I joined you back then, I left behind everything.” Your throat was closing up and the sting behind your eyes told you it was time to end the conversation. “And everyone I cared for.” The bump in your lovers throat bobbed and he still couldn’t meet your eye. “For you. Because you were worth losing everything for.” And you took a step back because the proximity was making you want to cave in on yourself. “They were my friends, too, Suguru. Except, I wasn’t caught up in my own feelings and I still lived them when we left.” Suguru’s facial muscles relaxed, only to tighten and tense.
“I gave you the option to stay behind. I made sure you knew that you didn’t have to stay. If you’re saying you’re regretting that now, then I guess Satoru is having more of an affect on you than I thought.” Where you stood now, there was no chance to indulge in the cool night air to calm your heated nerves. What you knew was that you needed to be away from Suguru.
You sat at the edge of a nearby dam, the concrete beneath chilling and the view far below just a slight switch from what was normal, a bit of thrill in the otherwise boring maze of a life you’d trapped yourself in. Ever since the night that Suguru cornered you, or maybe before that, things were different. At least for you, the once heavy weight that rested on your shoulders while being at Sugurus side now felt as though it doubled. This wasn’t you, never had been. And when you thought about it, Suguru must have known as well, because when he looked at you, his gaze held a sense of familiarity and recognition he’d not seen in you until recently. That warm sympathy in his eyes that he dared not mention, partially because of his increased workload but also because he recognized it would take you more time to forgive him. Suguru was willing to wait, he knew it’s always lead to him, he hnew you were coming back.
╰─..★.─────────────────╯
#geto#jjk geto#geto x reader#geto angst#geto suguru#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru#Suguru angst#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk angst
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T. Zegras - You And Me
✄————————————
Trevor Zegras x Reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 2.3k
Warning(s): Internet hate, emotional struggle, lack of communication.
Proofread while I was tired and delusional :)
—————————————
We were both young and distracted. Both on top of the world with our new occupations and the luck increasingly coming our way. Jack got drafted and I got my dream job in New York. We shared our excitement with one another simply because of our eventual close proximity.
I grew up going to school with the Hughes boys. I knew them well. I knew Luke the best, mostly because my little brother was friends with him. Which was really how I met Jack and Quinn in the first place. I gravitated toward Jack the most, due to his outgoing attitude and love for most things. We were always best friends. Strictly best friends.
It came as a shock to none when we got together. People were expecting it. Anticipating it. Jack and I dated, and at first we loved that, but eventually we saw through the cracks in our facades. We were playing “glorified friendship.” Jack didn’t love me like that, and I didn’t love him like that either. Sure, the fans and those on social media loved us, but they really only saw what we considered a best friendship. We may have kissed in a few photos and held hands, but Jack and I agreed that it just never felt right.
To say the least, we were both relieved and happy to have it over and done with when we broke up. We went back to fake gagging at each other and often teasing one another with comments about, “oh I can’t believe I ever kissed you,” and “why did we ever do that?”
Those comments though, had to be put on the back burner, when I met Trevor. Luke invited my brother and me out to the lake house one summer for a time. I almost turned down the offer, but my brother insisted, and I knew Jack would be there.
What I didn’t anticipate, was all of his friends being there too.
When Jack was too busy, I usually gravitated toward Trevor. Who always seemed to find me as well. He liked to ask what I was doing, drinking, eating, reading, watching.. god he just always wanted to know what I was up to. I thought it was nice.
I especially liked it when I would slip out on the back deck in the mornings to relax in the chill air, and Trevor would bee-bop out not long after, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pouch and glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He was often the least talkative, and I’d even venture to say shy, in the mornings.
Trevor and I became close after that. I could tell it made Jack nervous, but in the end when I asked him about dating Trevor, the middle Hughes gave his blessing.
The next summer, Trevor and I spent most of our time together at the lake house. And away from it. I took him on midnight drives. Introduced him to the wonders of rolling the windows down and screaming. He took me to his favorite mini-golf places and ice cream shops. We shared our hopes and dreams, and eventually our feelings.
Then I moved back to New York.
Long distance was shit, but Trevor visited whenever he was close enough to do so, and I visited whenever my schedule permitted. Then the second year of our relationship came, and after much discussion with my boyfriend, I made the decision to move to Anaheim.
Which was how we were eventually outed as well. People got photos of Trevor and I moving my things in just down the block from his and Jamie’s place. Which might not have looked overly suspicious, if those photos weren’t accompanied by one of us kissing too.
At first, people were happy. At first meaning maybe two days. Then I started getting comments on my social media. I started seeing people making videos and posts about how I’d dated Jack previously. People compared photos of me kissing Jack, to the one they had of me kissing Trevor.
Each new piece of content made me feel sick. Then it made me angry. Angry at Trevor’s fans, angry at jealous girls, angry at myself. Because in what world did I think this would slide by without having any issues? I was dating my exes best friend.
“Can they just shut up about it?”
I knew it hurt Trevor too, because the crazy fan girls called me a slut, but the other boy obsessed fan girls called Trevor a horrible friend. Everybody was choosing sides online. It was either;
Team Jack; which included shitting on Trevor for breaking bro-code
Team Trevor; which meant tearing Jack down for supposedly, ‘hurting me’ or ‘treating me wrong.’
Then there was simply Team Puck Bunny; where everybody attacked and berated me for jumping from guy to guy.
I wouldn’t consider it a team, more like an angry mob.
I often responded with,
“I’m sick of it too, bud. You’re not the only one.”
We went for days being frustrated, weeks even. Things simmered and simmered, then they came to a boil when I got publicly insulted in a book store.
“This is it?” I could tell the young woman had a tone in her voice, but I’d worked retail before. I knew some days just required a little bit of a hard attitude. It wasn’t until she looked up at me for the second time, that she decided to pop off.
“Did we bring Trevor’s card today?”
I was shocked. My expression spoke volumes, not to mention the way my posture quickly changed.
“What does that mean exactly?” The people behind me grew impatient, and usually I wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this girl wasn’t going to get away with such words.
“Means yours probably ran out of money after you and Jack broke up. Had to hop along to the next hockey player.”
Hop along. What a fucking joke.
I pulled my credit card back into my purse. I’d dealt with the hate for so long that at some point, I began to wonder if I did use Trevor’s money too much.
Did I talk about him too much? Mention his name too much at work? Did I get friends just because of him? How often was I really buying things and not arguing more about him handing his own card over? Was I really using him? Was Jack really upset with me?
I tried my hardest to hold back the tears as I abandoned my books at the counter. I climbed into my car, put on a pair of sunglasses, and finally let it out as I drove back to my place. It felt like I was trapped. Trapped under a microscope I didn’t want to be under. So alone. Put on a pedestal only to be laughed at. I knew Trevor was experiencing the same thing to some degree, but it wasn’t the same. The hate on him had calmed. People got over it. When would they get over me? Why couldn’t they just understand that Jack and I wanted to be friends? That we’d never been in love.
The second I got into my home, I discarded every piece of technology I had on myself. My phone, my watch, I ignored the tv and my iPad- my laptop. I made a straight line for my back deck. And when I got outside, I slammed the sliding door as hard as I could. And I cried.
I was using Trevor. Maybe people were right. Maybe I needed a normal boyfriend, with a nine to five job. Somebody who I couldn’t use and take advantage of. Somebody in my league. I just needed to hop my way out of his life and forget about him. I lowered myself into one of my deck chairs, leaning back and raising a hand to wipe at the tears on my cheeks.
Trevor needed a girl who wouldn’t accept his card. Who wouldn’t let him pay for things or gift give so much. He needed a girl who’d take care of him as much as he took care of her. That couldn’t be me. It wasn’t me. Everybody said so.
I focused in when I heard the sound of a door opening, my thoughts forgotten in a flash as I grew concerned about somebody being in my home. I sat still, and waited patiently, until I heard the glass door open. I whipped around, only to relax at the sight of Trevor. He was supposed to make things better.. did I ever make things better for him?
“Hey! I saw you pull in.. I was waiting for you to get back from the book store.” His bashful smile was one I always loved. He hated admitting that he waited for me sometimes.
Trevor quickly presented me with a small box. My face fell.
“I got you something.”
“Trevor.” I sighed out, my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can’t keep buying me things.”
I turned my gaze up to him, frustrated and exhausted.
“It’s just something small. Open it.” He quickly sat down next to me, and when he held the box out, I pushed it away.
“This is the shit they hate me for, Trevor!” I shouted, I quickly took note of the hurt look on his face. “They can’t stand me-“ my voice broke. “Because they think I use you. I don’t use you!” I couldn’t tell if I was trying to convince myself at this point, or the entirety of his fan base.
Tears quickly fell down my cheeks, my face red as I tried to hold in my sobs.
“Hey, hey-“ Trevor set the box aside and pulled me into his side. “I know you don’t use me.” He cooed, his hand rubbing my back while the other grasped my thigh.
“I do. You always pay for things- and.. and I used Jack to get to you.. and I hurt Jack- I hurt Jack because we’re together,” my hysterical bumbling was nonsense. Lies I began to believe because they’d been preached too much. Trevor let me go. He let me go and get it out for as long as I needed to, listening to any and every insecurity and concern. He listened well after the tears settled and I found my composure.
I eventually turned my body to face his own, and buried my head into his shoulder.
“I don’t wanna use you, Trevor,” I choked out. “I love you so much.” He was careful in pulling me into his lap.
“You don’t, baby.. I promise you don’t use me. I love buying you things. And Jack is always telling me about how much you talk about me when he calls. He always tells me it’s nonstop. He’s happy for us. And my team is happy. Hell.. Gibby loves you.”
“Because I’m with you.”
“No. Because you’re so sweet to everybody. Because you treat them all like family, and they love having you around when we have events.”
I gripped the back of Trevor’s t-shirt with one of my hands.
“Why do you love me?” I sniffled, and lifted my face to wipe my tears on my arm. I was certain I looked like shit, but Trevor still lifted my chin to look at me.
“Because there’s nothing to hate.” It sounded extremely cheesy and cliche, but in the moment it calmed me. Nothing worked better than hearing my boyfriend say such kind things.
“There’s a few things,” I argued softly, sniffing again. Trevor cupped my cheeks and wiped the excess tears away with his thumbs.
“Nothing worth hating. Maybe disliking, but not hating.” Trevor stood his ground with a teasing tone. “I couldn’t hate a single piece of you.”
“What about the money?” I lifted my hands to grip his wrists, prying his hands from my face. Trevor sighed.
“It was never about the money until they made it like that. Why’d you start liking me?”
I paused to think, my gaze flickering around the back yard.
“Because you were easy to talk to. And eccentric.” Trevor chuckled.
“Exactly. You never cared. We’ve never even had a discussion on how much I make. I just offer to buy, and you give me such a hassle about it before I win, and I pay.” Trevor paused and smirked. “Most of the time.” My expression softened.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I released his hands, and Trevor brushed my hair aside with one, while the other went back to wiping away my tears. “We can just ignore all the shit for a while. Try and do one of those social media breaks or something?”
“I think I can do that.” Who was I kidding? I knew I could do that. A social media cleanse with Trevor didn’t sound like such a bad thing. Time to forget about all the stress and focus solely on one another.
“There’s only two of us in this relationship. It’s not me, you, and the world. Yeah?” I never thought of it that way. I quickly nodded.
“When did you get so wise, Zig?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the bridge of my nose.
“Since I started dating a book worm. You learn a lot from books.”
Who would have thought you could learn from books?
“So..” I sighed out. “One big social media cleanse?”
“You betcha.”
“All apps?”
“All apps.”
“Just me and you.” That wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A newfound relief.
“Just you and me.” Trevor responded as he leaned in and kissed me. After a moment, we pulled away.
I nodded, leaned into him once again, and sighed. Just us. Only us.
“This might be a weird time to ask, but what did you get me?”
“Oh.. yeah it was nothin’ big. Just a Ring Pop in a box. I thought it would be funny.” I stared him down. I narrowed my eyes.
“Fuck you. I want the Ring Pop!”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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OKAY. MEETING BACHIRAS MOM FOR THE FIRST TIME. 🤭🤭🤭
(no pressure if you don’t want to do it ofc bbg<3 )
Ofc bb but have patience, I’m a little bit down cause I didn’t like at all my last post so yk 😭✋🏽
Omg I’m so dumb, I answered it without the fic made HAHAJJAJAJA, when I got it I’ll put it here and I’ll tell ya, k love? Have some paciencia 😽💗
Update: k so I already did it so here you go my love, hope you like it <3!
Warnings: fem!reader Words: 656 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings! Taglist: @merlucide
Meeting Bachiras mom for the first time
₊˚ෆ To help me with this, I will pretend it is the second part of the Bachira falling in love hcs.
₊˚ෆ Indeed, his mom liked you.
₊˚ෆ First of all, when Bachira got home and told her mom about you, she was super enthusiastic to meet you!
₊˚ෆ After Bachira made a move and you guys become boyfriend and girlfriend, the next step was meeting each others parents, being Bachira the first.
₊˚ෆ When the time came, you were extremely nervous, Bachira tried everything to make you feel less nervous but obviously it didn't work.
₊˚ෆ You wanted to everything go great. Your friends always says that is like having a second family and that creating a bond with his mom is important bc she's gonna be like a second mom to you.
₊˚ෆ You made yourself a list of 5 rules to follow when you meet his mom (which made Bachira laugh at you because- babe, my mom is super chill you don't need to do those things.)
₊˚ෆ Rule number 1: Do not show empty handed. It doesn't matter if you give her flowers, some dessert or a gift, Bachiras mom will appreciate it and think that you're a very nice and sweet girl. She's the type of person who appreciates the small things so giving smth to her will be perfect.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 2: Dress modestly. Look, Bachiras mom wouldn't care if you go with some jeans and a cute top, in fact, she would compliment you. But if you go dressed like if you're going to some club she would not think bad of you but neither she'll think good of you. I believe that as an artist she's very into the fashion world and if you're meeting her with a cute outfit she'll like you.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 3: Don't try to be somebody that you're not. She want to meet the person her son fall in love with, no one else. She'll like you just the way that you are! As an artist, Bachiras mom know about being judge so don't worry about those things.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 4: Always offer to clean up. Of course, she wouldn't let you, but it would be nice seeing the effort of your actions that his son never stops talking about.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 5: Try having a one on one time with her. Women to women bounds are super special so you have to use the opportunity to grow a very strong relationships. Honestly, she always wanted a daughter so just talked with her about girl things and it would be awesome!
You and Bachiras mom were left alone, she told Bachira to go to the store to buy some dessert (you bought flowers) so now you girls were alone.
"So, how did you knew you wanted to be an artist Mrs.Bachira?" you asked her enthusiastic, the dinner went awesome and you guys were having a great time.
Bachiras mom loved your question, nobody usually ask her about her profession and you were actually interested.
As the night went by, you girls ended up having a girl talk about the latest in fashion, the new tea about celebrities, skincare and make-up.
When Bachira came with the dessert, he was confused. He left you guys silent and when he come back you were sitting next to each other talking passionately about some new viral linase mask that gives a botox effect. Although he wasn't complaining either.
"Word of mouth is that the mask also works to give definition on the curly haired girls." you said showing her the video of a girl trying it.
"Really?" she said leaning to you "Bachiras cousin has curly hair, i'll show it to her."
₊˚ෆ She loved you, like she would call you some days to exchange tips and your calls last hours.
₊˚ෆ Bachira was more than happy when he find out, It seemed perfect to him that the two women in his life got along so well.
nksdhfsbfv idk what I did.
I feel like It was too short, great rules tho
28/04/24
© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.
#sofis loves#bllk bachira#asarajas works#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#asarajas works (bllk)#bachira meguru#bllk x you#bachira x reader#blue lock bachira#bachira fluff#fanfiction
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wanted to start off making a good impression, so here y’all go! 😅😅
::
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。
I’m Ready.
y’all ever feel that chu can’t do something? ever? like your life doesn’t fit with said something. well, that’s how jey (josh) felt towards coco. his party animal life didn’t suit with coco’s dream life. for him, it was too settled.. too rushed. sure, he loved her but was he willing to risk freedom for her expectations? ↴↴
‼️ YALL DONT AND I MEAN DONT EVER USE, COPY, OR STEAL MY STUFF, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, FEEDBACK AND LIKES INCLUDED, AND ALL OCS ARE MINE. i dont own anything else (obviously except fictional events made by me) 😌 ‼️
*Not proof read
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。
(3rd person POV)
𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 (𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐲𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐞)
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。
Jones was getting ready to hop in the shower before she got a WhatsApp notification from her friend, Trinity (or some like to call her Naomi). Coco ignored the message, played her shower playlist and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes and swayed her hips to the music as she felt the hot water comfortably burn down her skin.
She was really getting into it before her music stopped. What the heck? That question lingered in her head, not for long though as she heard her iPhone ringtone coming from her phone. Coco sighed as she looked through the glass mirror cover bit of her shower to see the contact name.
“WhatsApp call incoming: trintwin 💕💚”
The 5’10 woman felt as if to laugh. Is she serious? Coco waited for the ringing to end and her music to play, and it did just that. Around 20 minutes later, she stepped out and grabbed her towel to wrap around her slim, ebony body. Entering her room and drying off, Courtney went on her missed calls list, tapped on her friend’s name and calling her again. After one ring, Naomi picked up.
Here’s how that convo went:
T: GIRL, I BEEN CALLING YOU!
C: Chill, boo, I was in the shower. ‘nyways wassuh?
T: Yuh, uh-huh, anyways Jon’s going out and asked me to accompany him, I do wanna go but not without my girls. I texted and called Jade, Bianca, Nikki and Brie already, telling them to bring their mans but I can’t leave my fav out! So whatchu say?
Coco sucked her teeth and giggled a bit. They had only known each other for a month through mutual friends and with their busy schedule, they never really had the chance to hang out. Despite the fact that it is in a group, it would still be nice to catch up on things with her.
C: Nope, I’ve got no plans for the day and I desire to keep it like that, thanks though!
T: Oh, it wasn’t a question. Be ready by 8 later this night. Before you say anything, I do know that it is currently 11AM but I didn’t want to forget to ask you. Please come, it’s our day off, we both barely get those, and it’s time to let your guard down and relax with the girlies for a bit!
Trinity was a master at persuading people because after that, Coco had reluctantly agreed to her invite. She wasn’t going to lie, she was playing hard to get as she was feeling a tad bit excited to go out and enjoy herself for the night; she did have nothing to do after all.
( 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗣 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝟳𝗣𝗠, 𝗖𝗢𝗖𝗢 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗗𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗨𝗣 )
Coco was listening to her song, ICU, while doing her hair and makeup, until she received a text notification from Trinity. She stopped everything that she was doing to pick up her phone and take a look. Tutting, she picked the iPhone 14 pro up and took a look at what Trin had said.
‘Change of plans, we’re leaving in around 30 minutes, so you should probably start getting ready to leave. Sorry for the inconvenience!’
Coco dropped her phone down and sighed. This just annoyed her. She’s near the end of her makeup and doesn’t know what jewelry she was going to where. What perfume, what bag, shoes..
That was very important to her! Nevertheless, she had to round up what she was doing-so she quickly finished off her making, though making sure not to rush, found a cute purse to match with her CUTE outfit and of course had to finish off the look with some gold accessories and shoes. Adding a bit of her Clive Christian - X Feminine Perfume into the mix before she was set to go.
That must’ve taken around 45 minutes, but if they were to be disappointed it would be their fault for changing plans on such short notice.
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。
— AT THE CLUB —
Coco entered the club, immediately surrounded by the smell of booze and the sound of blasting music coming from the speakers that are seen to be nearly everywhere in the club.
(COCO’s POV)
The club stank of richness. I didn’t consider myself to be rich and famous, just upper-middle class and well-known. Most would disagree. Anyways, I looked around the club, searching for my friends. The bar…nope. I turned my head to the right and couldn’t see anybody. I looked to the left and saw a big group of people. Without thinking twice, I began to walk towards them until I realized they were complete strangers. I took my phone out from my purse and was going to text Trinity until I heard her forever cheerful voice.
“Girrrlll! You came! We all thought you was gon stand us up, come with me” Not giving me a chance to reply, she took me in her arms and lead me upstairs. I figured a bit ago that that kind of annoys me. I ignore it though, because that’s my homegirl! Dang, ian knew this place had an upstairs. I thought, mentally rubbing the back of my neck.
A few minutes later after walking through a closed off hallway, we arrived in front of a door that had two security in front of it and a label on the entry that ‘Door 13: V.I.P Only’. Taking a quick second to myself, I looked around and noticed that there were other VIP rooms around us. We stepped inside and I noticed everybody that was there.
(incoming wrestler’s stage names and real life partner’s names- mind yu, main characs in this story won’t be called by their real names)
Jon, Kofi, Xavier, Bianca, Montez, Jade, Brandon, Liv, Jordynne, Bayley and … JOSHUA?!
He looked up from his phone, staring at my surprised face in shock aswell. Oops, guess I said that out loud. I turned to Trinity and hit her playfully, my jaw still dropped. “Uh, trin! You ain’t never said anything about him being here!”
She shrugged and sat back down next to Jonathan. The others looked uninterested, everybody except from Bayley and Liv, the only females without a partner. Bianca and Jade were going to greet me but obviously I was busy and they were busy too, having deeps with their partners. Josh approached me and suddenly I tensed up.
“You look beautiful.” He complimented. “Thanks” I replied back. “Can we talk over there?” Joshua gestured to an empty space: the bar.
“Um, sure”
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。
OKAY, YALL? WHAT YALL THINK?? Mb, yall im not very good at English and i often get messed up with uk vs us words so yea.. anywayss, lmk what yu think? 💭 🩷‼️
#jimmy uso#fluff#roman reigns#x reader#wwe x reader#jey uso#joshua#roman reigns fanfiction#jey uso fanfiction#solo sikoa#sefa fatu#fanfic#oneshot#wwe#samoan#black girls of tumblr#first post#series
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