#this is just the mitski effect

[catiuskaa]

strawberry blond.

part of the “now playing: mitski!” series

Jisung had been avoiding the truth for the past six months, but now, it’s time to face the storm. even if it hurts.

angst. and I mean it. (still, hope you enjoy it!) TW: mentions of death and one's struggles to accept it. WC: 2.1k

[☆★🌌★☆]

Han Jisung loved many things, but one of his favourites was to lay down on the grass near Han River after a concert.

He could still hear the echo of the cheering and clapping on stage, his ears buzzing in a high-pitched sound that felt almost nostalgic despite it not having been too long since the show had ended.

A small smile lingered on his features as the night breeze grazed him tenderly, eyes focused on the sky full of stars above, hands playing with the strands of grass in between his fingers, pulling at it, playing with it on his hands, tugging the petals of the small dandelions near.

He had always cherished the night after a show or a concert. And it had always been with you, lying down near the river, either sighting softly at the breeze or laughing under the rain.

He turned his head, blinking slowly, staring at the empty space at his side, and his heart skipped a beat, leaving him breathless for an instant.

Your smile beamed, and so did his, but shyly, as if he was afraid of being happy. With a soft grunt, you got up, almost giddily as you pranced around on the grass, barefoot, tugging at his sleeve and softly kicking his legs so he’d get up too, giggling sheepishly.

“C’mon, Hannie!” You shined.

He sighed, ignoring the hand you offered at him, almost as if it wasn’t there, tangible, before him, and instead pushed himself up by his knees.

You snickered, quickly putting your shoes back on and childishly hopped around him, both heading back to the car.

He stared at you, at your strawberry blond hair that reached the small on your back, the silhouette of the tall buildings that surrounded the area getting blurry in his eyes while your figure took over his gaze.

You faltered, turning around.

“I love this river.”

And I love you.

But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he stared at you as you smiled, breathing in, arms outstretched, as if yearning that the breeze would take you with her.

He sighed, again, but it was even more melancholic. Broken. As grey as the clouds that started to cover the sky above, and as grey as the river flowed, not able to reflect the light the stars and moon shined, turning dark.

You frowned. “What’s wrong?” Your eyes softened at him, getting closer. “Why are you crying, Hannie?”

A tearful snicker left his lips. His knuckles threatened to graze your cheeks, your features soft to the eye, but he retracted his hand, shaking his head slightly and grinning at you.

“It’s ok.” He sniffed, heart-shaped smile softly fading away. “I got something in my eye.”

You both got in the car, and he stared at the empty place beside him, eyes in a shy shade of red, holding his tears back.

He heard you giggle when you opened the window, taking your hand out and playing with the wind in your hands, childishly fascinated at the resistance of your palm and the speed of the car, not too fast but enough that the breeze felt much stronger.

The tips of your long strawberry blond hair also were out, flowing rapidly to the air as he stared at the asphalt roadway, fighting the impulse to hold your free hand that rested on your thigh.

But he kept driving, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Driving somewhere he didn’t really want to go. With someone who wasn’t really there.

His heart skipped a beat. Emotional. The happy, nervous feeling that lingered when your body was close to him came back, the feeling that shivered in his body whenever the cute nickname you called him rolled off your tongue. But it ached.

He parked not too long after, and he got out of the car, grinning softly as you played with the dents in the pathway, hopping and skipping around in cutesy, childish giggles.

“Wait!” You whispered-yelled all of a sudden.

And his body stopped in his tracks, almost reluctantly, as if fighting a treacherous battle between his heart and his brain, his stare finally turning to face you fondly, yet his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Can you hear it?”

Your tone was soft, tender, so much that Jisung could almost feel it surround him lovingly, a deep, sweet voice resonated with warmth, like rich honey pouring slowly, a comforting and soothing melody that wrapped around him, a blanket in a cold winter.

The soft buzz of a small, hardworking little bee surprised him, his face displaying raw emotion, a stray tear slowly falling rolling down his cheek.

He was afraid of bugs. But he loved you. And because of it, he had learned to love those fuzzy little bees, who’s buzzing sound you cherished deeply.

The small bee lingered around the two of you, and gently pranced to the small plants and flowers on the side of the street.

“Oh, look! Forget-me-nots!” Your smile shined as you bent down to get a closer look at the small bluish flowers. “It means remembrance, but also true love and devotion,” you muttered happily. “It’s my favourite flower.”

His heart ached as he bent down next to you and picked a small branch, keeping it close to him, twirling it nervously in his hand as you both wandered, walking down the empty street.

“Hannie?” Your voice pondered. “You haven’t said anything in a while.” He smiled softly at your statement, nodding.

He froze in front of a large metal door, its paint thin and torn into small pieces that remained on the floor, the dents left from it falling, now rusty.

“Hannie?” Your voice faltered.

He tried to smile.

“I haven’t been too cheerful tonight, haven’t I?”

His eyes couldn’t hold yours for long, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

He held your hands in a sudden motion, and his touch crashed through your body like a storm.

Jisung gasped, his cries growing in intensity. “It’s… it’s been… what, six months?” He let out a gentle laugh, yet it was painful to hear. “Six months since… you’ve been gone.”

Your eyes widened, as if you remembered everything all of a sudden.

“I…” he nodded, his hands roaming through your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, your body feeling weak by his touch. “The… accident…”

He cried, hugging your now translucent body.

“I m-miss you s-so much.” He trembled, hugging you tightly despite how cold your body felt. “I… I wanted to do so much with you. I… I love-”

“No! D-don’t say it.”

You cradled his face in your hands.

“I… I’ll wait for you. Up there. Next to the stars. Don’t even dare rush to me. I have all my life. Or. Well, you. Y-you have all your life in front of you.” You cried, yet you still were smiling at him. Broken.

He bit his lip. Hard. God, this wasn’t fair. He wanted to scream it to you. To put into words how his heart was beating for you, for the memories of you he held so dearly, and to fail miserably, because no words could ever do justice to what he was feeling. To whisper to the whole world how he loved you.

But he couldn’t whisper anything, because his whole world wasn’t right before him, but six feet under, behind that metal door fence he hadn’t dared to cross.

In the fading twilight, beneath a blur of somber clouds that mirrored the heaviness in his heart, Jisung stayed put, staring at you, someone who wasn't actually there, in front of the cemetery, as if at the crossroads of farewell. The air, thick with unspoken words hung between you like a shroud.

Han traced the outline of your face with trembling fingertips, as if committing each pore in your skin to memory, etching the details of her existence onto his soul, heart, or mind. His eyes, once vibrant with shared laughter and secret glances, now reflected the inevitable sorrow of parting.

In the end, he had to accept it, right?

A silent understanding passed between you, an acknowledgment that this kiss held the weight of a thousand unspoken goodbyes.

As your lips met, the taste of salt lingered—a mix of tears, both shed and unshed. The kiss carried the bittersweet essence of nostalgia, a blend of the moments you had shared and the ones that would forever remain unfulfilled wishes of sorrowed hearts. It was a dance of desperation and tenderness, an attempt to catch a universe of emotions in a touch.

The world seemed to slow as you clung to each other, as if time itself was reluctant to let go, apologizing for separating those in love.

But an apology wouldn't bring you back, would it?

As he reluctantly pulled away, your eyes locked for an eternity, each gaze a silent plea to remember. He clenched the flowers in his hand. He would remember. He wouldn't—couldn't—forget. The space where his hands once found solace in the warmth of your own grasp now laid vacant, a stark reminder of the impending truth that hurt to accept.

The echo of that parting kiss lingered in the air, a taste of salt on their lips, a bitter reminder that sometimes, love is not enough to defy the cruel hands of fate.

And just as mysteriously as you had appeared in front of him, staying close to him since you had died, he hugged you for what felt like the first time in months, yet the hint of your warmth disappeared, just like your figure in his eyes.

Now, you weren’t there.

Now, your death was real.

And he froze, looking around in that tombstone filled garden.

Until he found it.

“Look at you, Miss Strawberry Blond.” He muttered. He felt his eyes itch as he cried.

He wanted to laugh, to smile for you, using that silly colour you chanted when he called your redhead, just to pick on you, but he started to hiccup, crying to his heart's content and even more as he stared up to the stars, just to find the moon beaming right above.

His heart skipped a beat again.

You were gone.

“N-no… wait…”

But your memory would—will—always stay.

“No… please…”

He clung to the recently-carved stone, sitting on his knees, a crying mess.

Jisung didn’t want any memories back. He didn’t care at all about anything he had lived with you if he couldn’t spend another day with you.

He wanted you back.

“Hannie.”

He stopped breathing.

“Hannie, you need to stop.”

Your voice sounded in his head, almost like a chant in his ears, as if you were talking to him from really far away.

He stared at your name in the tombstone, shaking his head.

How could he stop?

His sadness bubbled inside of him, turning mad.

“Why are you here?” He muttered, tone filled with something that didn’t feel like him.

He sounded destroyed, eyes heavy with grief, shoulders slumped as uncontrollable sobs racked his body, his attempts to speak choked by the overwhelming feelings consuming him.

But your voice couldn’t answer or help.

“You know what?” He sniffed, frowning. “I need to say it. I fucking love you.” The silence that followed almost froze his heart, because now he could say it, but there was no one to say it back.

Still, he continued with a hiccup. “I love you so fucking much I can’t grasp that you’re gone— hell, I’ve been hallucinating about you for months because it’s so fucking painful to face that you’re not here. And I could never even say it. I could never even say how much I’ve loved you and how I’ll keep loving you even now, and it’s n-not—.”

And suddenly, amidst the confession, he felt like instead of breathing heavily, Jisung ran out of air. As if he had been hit without warnings of any kind.

His throat blocked and his chest hurt, and it was as if something had grabbed his heart, until it felt heavy, and an overwhelming feeling ran through him from head to toe as he whimpered and cried. It was a similar feeling to fear, only that it seemed that Han’s heart had been filled with stones, now heavy, confused by emotion. Feeling like it was going to escape and burst out of his chest.

And for a moment, Jisung thought he was going to die. That whatever this was was going to kill him.

“W-why ca-an’t you le-eave?” He cried, ugly, deeply, choking in between sobs as his head started hurting.

“God, H-hannie..”

But he couldn’t hear you anymore.

“It… it hu-urts t-too mu-ch…”

You stared at him from above, tears falling down as he tightly gripped his chest.

“Ple-eas-se…” he whispered “…m-ma-ake it s-sto-op…”

He felt droplets of rain starting to fall down on him.

“J-just… g-get o-ut of my-y head…”

Unlike the one he felt under your touch, a real storm was approaching.

And no one was going to hold an umbrella over his head.

~kats, who is trying really hard not to cry because she has homework to do and she can't read past her tears.

P.S: TYSM TO MY ABSOLUTE STUNNING GORGEOUS BABIES AND LIKE GOD I COULD MAKE THEM A STATUE @binsito @hiddlestandom @evermourning and @ire67 TY FOR PROOF READING THIS AND HELPING ME OUT I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU GUYS TYSSSM<3333!!!!!

[nebulaeyedfish]

I always wanted to die clean and pretty, but I'd be too busy on working days.

So I am relieved that the turbulence wasn't forecasted-

I couldn't have changed anyway.

See pinned for commissions

[vincentaureliuslin]

my moms dog reeeally likes music his favorite artists are mitski, chappell roan, and kimya dawson and he DOESN'T like adamandi or the art of pleasing princes does anybody have any recommendations for him :3

[devilsskettle]

whenever i hear a song that i would like if it weren’t for the fact that it was too long, i think about this:

like you can afford to write tangentially if you/your music is already popular and you know that people are going to listen to you no matter what and in fact laud your longer pieces as being genius etc but can you really be releasing 5+ minute long songs without a built-in audience?

[applciuux]

it might have seemed better, and maybe it was, but you're still going to be you and hurt.

Crack Baby - Mitski / Kids In The Hall - "Daddy Drank" (1990) / Succession (2018-) / Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) / The Piano Teacher (2001) / Persona (1966) / Sink or Swim (1990) / various vintage pictures i found from google (oops)

(taken from my ig where i used to post edits)

[starved-vyka]

I just downloaded 3 different dating apps, filled out profiles for each of them, then set my profile to invisible. I don’t intend on meeting people atm. I just wanted to use the profile creation to get a better grasp of myself (my sense of self is slipping).

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Right now I want to inject I Don't Smoke directly into my veins I think

[aingeal98]

I feel like when things are quiet in Gotham and the only threat is normal criminals, Cass would have no issue blasting music on patrol just for fun. No one knows what to make of it, Bruce isn't sure if it's an effective crime fighting tactic or not but it sure is Something.

You are random Gotham mugger 745 trying to steal from a woman on her way home from work and you suddenly hear Chappell Roan's Good Luck Babe growing ominously louder until you're suddenly knocked out too fast to recognise who it is. You end up at the police station with five other guys who've experienced something similar. One says they heard Mitski's My Love Mine All Mine playing. Another heard wish you were gay by Billie Eilish. Is there a lesbian ghost haunting Gotham? What the hell is going on?

Elsewhere on a completely unrelated note Barbara is having a long discussion with Cass on first loves and realising you're gay. Chappell Roan and girl in red will be haunting Gotham criminals for a solid month before she finally works up the courage to actually Talk to Steph about how she's feeling, at which point the lesbian ghost who knocks criminals unconscious will have developed into a Gotham meme and become an urban legend. Believers will say it's a new god here to protect sapphic women. Skeptics will tell you it's probably just Poison Ivy.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #32

My baby, you’re my baby.

Imagine dis…

You know, I have the songs Mitski - I Bet on Losing Dogs and Reba McEntire - I'm A Survivor.

So in memory of the ever ending loop finally dissappearing and now replaced with Wake up by Llunr… Here it goes…

…

In the heart of Gotham, The Teen Titans who are being led by Tim Drake (Robin), along with Conner Kent (Superboy), and Bart Allen (Kid Flash) are fighting a powerful magician. They had managed to hold their ground, but they were unable to pass the unending minions summoned by the magician, nor could they land a decent hit on the magician, who was fighting fire with fire. Knowing they needed magical ability, they asked Zatanna to handle the caster while they focused on the minions.

The air crackled with electricity as spells collided and blended in a frantic dance of light and power. Just as they were ready to gain the upper hand, two opposing spells from Zatanna and their opponent collided in what appeared to be a last-ditch attempt. A flood of raw, uncontrolled power surged toward them, wiping out the majority of the minions and now heading towards them, and before they could react, they were bathed in blinding light.

…

When the light went off, they found themselves in a completely dark room. Their senses heightened, and they stood alert, as all three of them wondered what the magic's effects would be. Light gradually appeared around them, presenting a scene that perplexed and concerned them.

A teenage male with dark hair stood in the center of the room, carrying a baby swaddled in a blue and star-printed blanket. The boy's eyes were sad and shiny, and his cheeks were swollen with unshed tears. He rocked the baby softly and sang a sweet tune. Surrounding him were walls and a small window that was too high and narrow for him to escape, but just right for a newborn baby.

On the other side of the window, another teen came this time with dirty blonde hair and freckles and bright green eyes. Crouching to look at the teen mentioned above, who is still humming as if in his little universe. He looked at the first teen, full of sadness and grief, and said, as no sound came from the scene, that it was time.

The dark-haired kid took a deep breath before pulling out a little necklace covered with snowflake decorations. He wrapped it around the baby's neck, his hands quivering. Tim automatically stroked the similar necklace that hung around his neck, disguised by the layers of clothes he wore.

Tim knew he was adopted; he had always known. He had always resembled his adoptive parents, Janet and Jack, making him the ideal heir to the Drakes. He had attempted to locate his biological parents but had only encountered dead ends. Now he understood he was seeing a long-forgotten memory.

The dark-haired teen gave the baby to the other kid, who cautiously reached through the window. As he did, Tim noticed the thick chains that shackled the dark-haired teen's body, blocking his escape. The boy stared at the infant one more time and mumbled something Tim couldn't hear.

The blonde teenager appears to convince the other teenager that he will find a suitable home for the baby he is currently carrying.

The dark-haired teen flashed a sorrowful smile and looked longingly at the baby, who was now struggling to wake up as if realizing that the person holding him was not his mom.

The blonde teen nodded and prepared his motorcycle, placing the baby who is now trying to have a crying feast in a sidecar alongside what appeared to be his dog with red eyes for further protection and sped off.

All three of them looked at the chained teen as he held his gaze to the vehicle up until it went smaller and smaller and until it vanished from his sight.

Just as they thought the scene was over they were immediately shattered as a large metal door that seemed to materialize behind them opened wide and out came walking someone they knew as they were already in the middle of investigating.

Vlad Masters

Someone who gained his wealth through mysterious ways that warrant an investigation as most of the deals are more favorable to Masters than to his so-called partners.

They saw Masters grab the teen roughly and began hissing through gritted teeth something, leaving bruises wherever he handled the chained teen.

The teen, on the other hand, seemed so detached, as if he completely removed himself from the present as he let Masters rough handle him.

…

Tim wanted to scream, to rage as both of his teammates were already holding him back from running towards something they know is something of the past.

That is his parent GODDAMMIT!, Tim raged in his mind, usually he would have been calm and collected, logical, and gathered the facts. But a single memory made all of his restraints snap.

All Tim ever wanted was to be loved, something he never received during his stay with the Drakes. Both Janet and Jack kept on mentioning how Tim should be grateful that he is the one chosen to stay under their roof with thousands of dollars at his fingertips.

But here he was watching something he was too young to remember, something that his head kept flashing.

The soft hum of a melody that he would sometimes hear deep within his mind as he tried to cry himself to sleep.

A single necklace is a connection between him and his biological parents.

Watching how helplessly his father was? Mother? Be abused, be chained down.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t find a lead, Masters sent someone to handle the blonde teen who brought him to a nice orphanage before the Drake couple adopted him.

…

The scene faded as Tim, Conner, and Bart were brought back to reality. They awoke to find Zatanna watching over them, her expression filled with concern.

Zatanna said that they had been bound in a deep memory spell, which the magician had created to capture them in a recurrent memory, rendering them unable to discern between the memory and the real world. However, because she also sent out her counter, it only displayed a fleeting memory to stop them from ending up like Sleeping Beauty.

She chuckled as she glanced at them questioningly, hoping for the best, and thought they witnessed a memory that reminded them of a dark time during their hero times.

Tim sat up, still holding the necklace. He had observed a memory from his past that he had never known existed. It wasn't just a last-ditch attempt at a spell; it was a look into a long-held secret that he had forgotten.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”

— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.

A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.

Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.

You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.

Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”

And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.

However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.

An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.

Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.

It was only a matter of time.

So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.

"Goddamn it."

"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"

The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.

You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.

It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.

Small blessings and all that. Very small.

You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.

Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.

"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."

You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."

The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.

You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.

-------

"I didn't know there were so many pirates."

You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—

"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.

WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000

"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."

The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.

You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.

"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.

Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.

Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.

While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.

"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"

"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.

For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.

"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."

Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.

His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it

You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"

------

It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.

Why him?

Fuuuuuu—

"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."

"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.

A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.

You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.

Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.

As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.

After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."

With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.

Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?

A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.

"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.

The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.

You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?

In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.

"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"

And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.

"No, stop! This is all wrong!"

You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.

And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.

Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.

Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.

This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.

Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).

You can't tell if that's a relief yet.

You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"

The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.

"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"

Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--

"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"

... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.

"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"

Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!

In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.

"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."

No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.

"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."

Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.

"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."

A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.

Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.

You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.

"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.

Way too calmly for your liking.

Oh, no.

Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"

You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.

In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.

Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.

At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.

Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.

"Leave him be."

You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.

Then, Buggy begins to laugh.

It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.

He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.

When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"

Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.

"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."

It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.

The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.

"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"

Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:

("You're the one who left me, remember?")

Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby… pt.2!

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. smut. mentions of alcohol. unprotected sex. praise. fem receiving. gentle sex. CONSENTED. angst with happy ending?

a/n: I just ate buldak ramen and my asshole is so clenched rn. oh god wtf ts is not for the weak

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You’re my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

Days have passed since that kiss you shared with Leon. And it’s been hell. All you could think about was his touch, his cologne, his eyes… you fell hard for a man who could be your dad. And so here you were, drinking in your studio flat. You walked towards the nearest convenience store to buy the cheapest thing you could afford. Alcohol is alcohol, you thought. It all has the same effect in the end.

You were lying on your couch, drunk out of your mind. Crying and sobbing as you listened to Mitski and some other depressing artist you were so sure your neighbors could hear you but you didn’t care. What you assumed was the love of your life turned cold towards you. And you loathed that feeling. All you wanted was to be in his arms again. To feel those muscly arms hug around you as his soft voice whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You really shouldn’t be trusted with alcohol and a cellphone because you made the mistake of texting Leon.

Leon was confused when he received a spam of messages at 2 in the morning. Who is their goddamn mind is still awake at this hour. Lo and behold, your name popped up on his screen. He let out a sigh as he clicked on the chat and began to read.

“I miiiiiissss uuuuu”

“pls, I need u :(“

“y r u ignoring me?”

“I thinkI committer tax wvasion”

Okay the last text made him worried. He knew something was up so he straight up just called you.

The phone rang in your hand and your eyes bulged out of their sockets, not literally. Your breathing quickened and you felt nervous. But you still answered, you put the phone on your ear and you swore you almost died from how hot and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Y/n…?” He spoke through the phone, his voice laced with sleepiness as he just woke up. If you weren’t wet, now you were.

“Leooooon, hi” you slurred. You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid.

Leon sighed heavily as he heard your voice, “Y/n, you’re drunk. Where are you?” You could hear the sounds of rustling in the back as he got dressed and got his keys ready.

“Huh? Oh- uh… I’m at home,” you mumbled as your face grew hot.

“Text me your address,” he demanded in a serious but gentle tone as he hung up. And you couldn’t help but oblige. You sent him your address and waited patiently for him to come knocking at your door.

You fixed your hair and tried to look presentable even after crying all day. Your face was swollen and your eyes were red. So you went to your bathroom and washed your face, hoping the hyperpigmentation would disappear.

You rushed to your front door as you heard knocking. When you opened the door, Leon stood there looking godly. He was wearing grey joggers and a loose shirt. His hair was neat, given that his hair is straight as a door.

“Can I come in?” Leon asked after you stood there, staring at him in silence for a good two minutes. You mumbled a quiet sorry and stepped to the side to let him in.

When he stepped inside, he immediately spotted the bottles lying about on the coffee table. He let out a deep sigh through his nose and began to clean up your place. You quickly followed behind him and tried to stop him.

“Wait, Leon- I can do it,” you said as you took hold of Leon’s arm. He turned around and gave you a stern look. “Sit,” he commanded as he nodded his head towards the couch.

You wanted to argue, you really did but the way his voice seemed to have reached your head and pussy made you unconsciously walk over to your couch. You sat on it and watched as Leon cleaned your apartment, because that’s what coworkers do, right?

Once Leon was done with getting rid of the bottles, he turned to you and began to check your temperature. To be honest, you felt sober now that he was here.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a soft tone as he put his hand on your forehead. “Checking to see if you have a fever, do you feel drunk?”

You shook your head no, “No, I feel fine.”

Leon sighed and took his hand away from your forehead before settling down next to you. “Why did you text me?” He asked softly. You shifted in your seat as you tried to come up with a good excuse, “I was drunk,” you muttered.

He gave you a skeptical look, he wasn’t easy to fool, “Y/n, I know when you’re lying. Let me ask you again, why did you text me?”

You swallowed hard and focused your gaze in your hands in your lap, “I miss you…” you began slowly and quietly, almost scared to start crying, “I wanted to hear from you again. I wanted you.”

His eyes softened but he maintained his face composed. “Y/n…”

“I know what you’re going to say-“ you began, “That I’m too young and naive for you. But I really cannot help these feelings I have for you…”

Leon sat there looking at you in silence as your words settled in his head. He didn’t know how to tell you he felt the same. He inhaled sharply brought his hand to your chin and gently turned your head to look at him,

“My heart aches for you, my mind yearns for you all the time…”

He whispered softly, “I tried so hard to ignore you, to forget you. But you always manage to make me feel these things for you.”

You sat there, shocked at him. Is that how he felt? Did he actually feel the same way as you?

Leon noticed your shocked face and leaned down to kiss you softly. His lips tender against yours, a kiss so sweet yet full of love. When he parted his lips from yours, he stared down into your eyes with a gentle look.

“Leon, I…” Your voice was just above a whisper, “is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Leon nodded at your words. He’s been avoiding you because he also loved you, the only difference is that he was scared.

You kissed him back, a little bit harder than when he kissed you but he didn’t mind. He moved his hand to the back of your head and pressed you against him, his tongue glossed over your lips and forced his way inside your mouth. His tongue swirled around against your tongue and moaned at the sensation of your hands moving towards his chiseled chest.

He gently laid your back down against the couch, your head resting on the armrest as he parted your legs with his knee and settled himself between your legs, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He continued kissing you, moving from the ends of your lips to your jaw as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” His lips settled down to your neck and began to suck at each spot, leaving hickeys where he wanted. You wrapped your hands around his hair and intertwined your fingers with his hair. You moaned as you felt him find your sweet spot. He smiled against your skin and began to sink his teeth a little bit, not too much so it wouldn’t hurt you. He continued sucking, lewd sounds being heard in the living room.

He moved on to the other side of your neck and repeated the same pattern.

Hickey, hickey, bite. Hickey, hickey, bite.

Your hand tugged at his hair as you moaned and squirmed under him. He pulled back from your neck and you whined in response. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he admired the masterpiece under him, “so perfect…” he muttered under his breath as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so perfect, dear,” he whispered as he kissed you once again and let his hands travel under your shirt and caressed your waist and stomach. You let out a breathy moan as your hands explored his chest and shoulders.

He parted from the kiss and laid his forehead against yours as his hands held your waist gently. You stared up at his eyes and admired his features.

“Y/n…do you want this?” He whispered as he looked down at your eyes, trying to read your answer. You nodded, “I do.”

He smiled softly, “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he slowly sat you up to take off your shirt. He pulled the fabric over your head and threw it on the floor. His eyes immediately went to your chest and he gently pushed you down the couch again. His mouth kissed to clavicle and collarbone before kissing the top of your left breast while his hands worked their behind your back and unclasped your bra with ease. He pulled your bra down your shoulders and torso slowly and threw it towards somewhere on the floor.

He pulled back and stared at your breasts, his hands sliding up to hold and massage your breasts in his hands. He leaned to kiss and suck one while his hand groped the other. His thumb and index finger tugging and playing with your hardened nipple as he swirled his tongue in the breasts he was sucking and kissing on. You arched your back and moaned softly. Rolling your head back against the armrest as his mouth worked wonders on your chest. God you tasted so sweet, your skin was soft and sugary. But he wouldn’t say that out loud, he’d hate for you to think he’s a cannibal. He just loved the way your skin tasted and loved the way your body smelled. It only aroused him more.

The bulge in his pants growing bigger against the constraints of the fabric pressed against your inner thigh. You felt his crotch rub against you and it only made you water down at your folds. “Leon…” you moaned out.

He pulled back from your breast, the cold air from the absence of his warm mouth hitting your nipple, causing you to shiver slightly.

“What is it, princess?” He mumbled softly as he caressed his hands down your waist.

“I need more…” you breathed out as you tried to move against his bulge. He held you down by your hips and whispered in your ear, “Patience, I want to treat you right.”

He kissed your lips, your neck, your check and down your stomach before kissing the hem of your shorts. His fingers hooking on them as he slowly pulled them down your legs. He stared down at your panties and saw the wet spot in between your legs, he couldn’t help but smirk as he knew you wanted him too.

He removed your panties gently, watching as the slick of your cunt reluctantly let go of the fabric that separated him and your pussy. He pushed himself between your legs, slowly blowing cold air at your clit and watched as you gripped on the cushions of the couch. He brought his fingers down your folds and slowly dragged them up and down, not entering your eager entrance yet. With one hand, he held your hips down and the other began to gently roll your clit among his rough fingers. He leaned down to kiss your inner thighs, sucking at them just how he sucked on your neck. He made sure you were left marked with his hickeys. Moans and whimpers escaped your mouth as he kept circling your clit until he finally dragged his tongue down your folds. You shuddered in pure delight and closed your eyes in bliss. He moaned as he tasted you, god you tasted even better. He couldn’t help but eat you out like he’s been starving for days.

His tongue delved deep inside your pink walls, swirling his tongue and sucking as much as he could, he pulled his hand away from your clit and held your thighs down so you wouldn’t squish his head. The squelching sounds of him eating your pussy were enough to keep you turned on, it didn’t help that his nose would occasionally bump against your lip and his stubble would crash against your skin, ignoring a fire within your stomach.

Your breathing became more jagged as your walls pulsated around his tongue, he groaned against your cunt. You arched your back and gripped on his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt as he fucked his tongue inside you. He knew you were close to release and he let you cum all over his face. Your moan came out in a high pitched breath as you bucked your hips against his face, riding it as he lapped his tongue to capture your juices. Making sure no drop fell to waste.

He pulled back from your cunt as you panted, your body sweaty and glistening under the shitty lights of your apartment. He slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He pulled down his underwear and let his hardened lengths bounce to his stomach, hitting it with a smack ‘thwack.’

Your eyes widened at his size. The tip was pink and leaned towards the right by a little bit. A being visibly protruding slightly as pre-cum slid down to his base. You were salivating at the sight. He chuckled and caressed your cheek, “Say yellow to stop,” he whispered before his kissed you softly on the lips. You nodded and allowed him to spread your legs just a little bit for a part. He didn’t want to hurt you so he slowly aligned the tip on your entrance and very gently pushed himself inside you. You shifted uncomfortably but also in pleasure. His thick size slowly got swallowed by your walls and his eyes shimmered as he saw you taking him in fully. He was impressed but also felt like he had to be more gentle so you’d grow used to his size.

He pushed until he connected his pelvis against your hip, he looked down at you to make sure you were still on board. He saw the way your mouth was slightly parted as your eyes were tightly shut. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You opened your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He took that to his heart and slowly began to thrust in and out of you. Not fully pulling out as he still wanted to be gentle with you.

Once he saw that you were enjoying his thrusts, he began to go faster. His hips clashing against yours, the sound of his balls clashing against your ass echoing through your living room. He brought his hands up to your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. A gesture that meant he was here for you and only you. He grunted and groaned as he squeezed your hands from how crazy your pussy was driving him.

You moaned and whimpered as you felt your second orgasm was on its way. The fire in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter as your walls clenched around his cock. He shuddered softly as the feeling and cursed under his breath at how well your body felt against him. He whispered sweet praises to help you reach your orgasm, knowing that you may be feeling a little overstimulated. “That’s it, baby, come down on me” “You’re doing so well” “You feel so good, princess”

And it worked. You arched your back, your chest coming into contact with his chest as your cunts gripped and clenched on his cock. Milking him until he felt his orgasm coming as well. But he wouldn’t cum inside of you. He knew better for his princess.

He pulled out and shot his cum on your stomach, his moaned coming out in a husky and low tone. He panted as he stayed there for a moment, while you tried to catch your breath. He got off you and grabbed a tissue from nearby and cleaned your stomach. He then moved down to your legs and cleaned there as well. His touch so gentle, knowing you were still sensitive from him. Once he discarded the dirty tissue, he turned his head up to look at you. You looked so beautiful. He leaned up to kiss you on the lips and smiled softly.

“Let’s run you a bathe, okay?” He whispered and swiftly picked you up bridal style. He walked towards the bathroom and closed the door.

Needless to say, this man is the king of aftercare. After he bathed you, he walked you to your bed and laid you down. Oh and the grown man also loves cuddles, so the two of cuddled to sleep.

[cher-rei]

helloo helloo:) can you do nr. 4 from your prompt list with gavi? that‘d be so cute💞

kisses— pablo gavi [ P.G ]

kisses like pink cotton candy [a loving feeling- mitski]

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

summary: just a little wholesome tiktok trend

genre(s): nothing but fluffff

[wc: 1.2k] masterlist

notes: anon, you really picked this one out in my favour because I wanted to write something with this prompt so badddd. so thank youuu xxx (screaming, kicking ny feet rn)

it was one of those lazy saturdays— the most cherished time for you and gavi. sure he was at home more often anyway because he was recovering from the injury but he still went to practice on most days so the two of you loved the days that you got to do nothing but lounge around.

you were both sitting on the couch, your legs resting on gavi's lap while his eyes stayed on the tv and his fingers meticulously pushed his controller buttons. no words were exchanged but there wasn't a need for that, being in each other's pretense was more than enough.

so you continued to scroll through tiktok, letting out a laugh every so often which indicated to gavi that another tiktok was sent his way to pile up with the hundred others he would watch later and reply to respectively.

then something came up, a trend that you found utterly adorable. your eyes lit up at the idea of recreating it with your boyfriend. the opportunity was too perfect to miss and just the thought of smothering him in kisses had you jumping from the couch.

normally gavi wouldn't mind, but by the eagerness in your step and the lack of explanation or "I'll be right back baby" it raised some suspicion. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched you dash upstairs, counting down the seconds until you came back.

he noticed something in your hand, something you didn't wear often because you preferred lip gloss.

"are you going somewhere?" he asked softly and you shook your head with a smile before taking a seat beside him, your body turned so you could face him in all of his confusion.

you looked at your phone camera as you applied the lipstick, the most flattering shade of red you could find. "do you want to film a tiktok with me?"

gavi put his controller to the side and stifled a laugh. "what do you need me to do, amor?"

your lips tugged up at the term of endearment, a blush flushing your cheeks even though it was normal. no matter how long you'd been with gavi, he still had such a smitten effect on you by doing the most mundane things. but his agreement made you giddy and you urged him to face you.

"just sit here and look cute." you cupped his cheeks lightly and gave him the first peck on his cheek where a perfect lipstick stain had been left. when you pulled away gavi was in slight shock, not quite sure what was happening but he happily took every single kiss you gave him.

they were littered all over his face and he drank it all in, no questions asked. a small giggle could be heard every so often and it made your heart swell at just how cute he was. a shiver ran down your spine with every touch to your bare skin, his fingers lazily drew under your shirt as it usually did.

your kisses travelled down to his neck which only prompted even more laughter from your boyfriend. he found his neck to be the most ticklish and you knew that all too well. it was unarguably one of your favourite places to plaster him with kisses just to hear the sweet sound of his laughter.

"are you sure you're not just doing this because you want to kiss me?" he asked teasingly when you pulled away.

just to make matters a little worse, you leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips which he wasn't too happy about. he tried to pull you back but you were too adamant on finalising the tktok first, saying that he could kiss you for however long he wanted afterwards.

talk about motivation.

you got the camera ready and explained to gavi that all he had to do was wipe the excess lipstick away when you messed up. he understood promptly and urged you to start recording— his mind set on the kisses he was going to get afterwards.

you hit record and reapplied your lipstick for the nth time in the last 10 minutes and staged the slip of your hand perfectly, and then came your boyfriends finger to wipe it away and he rested his fingers beneath your chin.

you couldn't stop the smile on your face as you looked at him with some much love and adoration, your heart was practically overflowing. just to tease you before the video ended tipped your head upwards to kiss him, the two of you bursting into a fit of giggles until the video stopped recording.

you couldn't even watch it back properly before your phone was taken from you and placed on the coffee table in front.

"pablo I need to save it," you said through your laughter but your boyfriend already had you on your back, his arms promptly on each side of your head with a light hum escaping from his lips that were grinning from ear to ear.

his kisses started slow, just as you had done to him. he trailed from your temple, go your cheek, to your nose until he stopped inches away from your lips where you were eagerly waiting for him.

a pout settled on your lips and you gave him a deapanned look. "are you serious right now?"

his nose scrunched cheekily. "what? are you waiting for something, amor?"

you looked up at him in shock, unable to believe how difficult he was being right now. but it was in his teasing nature, the same one that had your heart racing no matter the circumstance. a sigh of defeat left your lips and he smiled.

"can you please kiss me already?" you asked with an eye roll but he didn't budge, asking you who you were talking to.

he was being difficult today, and you didn't know how long you could play along for. was kissing your boyfriend supposed to be this difficult?

your arms snaked around his neck, your fingers lightly playing with his hair. "pablo, baby, amor, the absolute love of my life," you cocked your head to the side, "can I please get a kiss."

"that wasn't so difficult now was it?" he asked and before you could quip back at him his lips met yours tenderly, the butterflies in your stomach swarming enough to make you light headed.

you felt gavi smile into the kiss and you melted right then and there under the featherlight touch of his hand on your hip. he broke it off with a few more pecks on your face and laid down beside you.

he cuddled up closer to you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "when you upload the tiktok send it to me so I can send it to pedri and abuse my bragging rights."

you scoffed at his comment. "bragging rights? for what?"

he looked up at you with a knowing look, one that showed his confusion to your question. it was blatantly obvious which bragging rights he had. "my bragging rights for having the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend known to man duh."

[drykoolaid]

We’re Just two slow dancers 💫

Last ones out….

Lil uhhh sketch of ur into that stuff ahahah

Also no yall can’t stop my associating nuzi with mitski grind bcuz it ain’t never gonna cease 😣

ALSO PLS PLAY THE SONG AND IMAGINE THE SCENARIO IN UR HEAD 4 FULL EFFECT 😡

[tiramissyoucake]

Trying my hand at angst, I don't like this but here you go fjsjfdj

Gojo misses reader and is a mitski fan here, sfw, 1.6k words

Satoru knew he was clingy, he knows he can be overbearing with you at times and you've constantly reassured him that it's one of the many qualities you like about him; you even called it cute and compared him to a lost kitten. However, the longer you're gone, the more stressed he gets, thoughts of worry plague his head if they go unanswered for too long—how you are doing? Is everything going smoothly? Did you eat a full proper meal? Are you sleeping well? He never had to worry for long because he would get an answer the next time he sees you, which would usually be the next few hours or the next day.

When you told him about a trip you had to take out of town to visit family and stay with them for a while, he only smiled and helped you pack as anxiety rattled in his chest— as if trying to bring your attention to it. he chooses to remain silent about his worries even after you tell him you'll be gone for over a week, even if every bone in his body is telling him to trap you in his arms and beg you to stay.

Clingliness be damned, he loved you too much to remain separated from you for over a week, let alone a day.

Dread crept at the back of his mind as you explained your trip, why you were going and when will you leave and return, the entire time Satoru tried to listen his mind would wander and begin to memorise your features as you spoke— the shape of your lips, the crinkle in your eyelids, the structure of your nose, god, did he tell you look beautiful? He couldn't recall if he did today.

".. so don't expect fast replies, okay?"

The dumbfounded expression quickly took over Satoru's features as he sat up, he remembered he mentioned he would call or text you if he gets lonely but after that his brain tuned out his surroundings as if preparing itself for a week of loneliness.

".. repeat that for me, Baby? Please?"

"I said the service is pretty bad at my grandparent's place, so don't expect fast replies."

Ah. He was in hell. He had to watch and help you pack, pretend as if this didn't bother him so you wouldn't cancel for his sake, he even saw you off and kept his goodbye short; a simple kiss, hug and a promise for you to stay safe and call him if anything happens. He would have been proud of himself had he not known how lonely the house would be without you.

For the first three days, the phrase "its just under two weeks" became a mantra Satoru would mutter to himself— from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning feeling the empty space next to him, the phrase is echoed in his head. He made the mistake of preparing two cups of coffee in the beginning forgetting you were off with family, that simple mistake triggers a domino effect; it causes him to remember to contact you, he checks his phone and finds messages sent from you in the wrong order, courtesy of terrible service.

Leaving the house did nothing to alleviate the anxieties floating in his mind about you, whenever he passes by a cafe he has to purchase your favorite item off the menu, this time he had to stop himself and double back from the door remembering the meal would rot away in the fridge before your return. Spotting anything remotely related to your interests activates a knee-jerk reaction where he turns to gesture and mention it to you, looking for the spark that would light up your features in excitement— but alas, you were not here.

The days were longer, the nights were colder, Satoru's love blooms whenever he's near you, and yet now that he's alone, his heart is heavy; an overgrown garden.

The week was over. It was finally over, and yet the torture continued. You specifically told him you'd be gone for over a week— he once again repeats to himself "just under two weeks.." Satoru feels tired, and he doesn't know why. Through his meals and activities throughout the days, he would usually share them with you. He wonders if you felt the same exhaustion.

Just as his eyelids began to weigh down from the exhaustion, his phone released melodious chimes. Satoru grunted in annoyance and sat up in the cold bed, tempted to crush the phone in his hand— was he not even allowed to dream of you?

'LOML💘 Calling...'

His heart soared to his throat, everything he wanted to say to you, threatening to spill out before he even tapped the green button. He hurriedly answered and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello? Satoru?"

"... Baby? Can you hear me?" He immediately wanted to make sure of the call's quality. He won't be swindled by fate.

"Oh, thank god- I've been trying to get a hold of you all week! How are you? Is everything okay? I'm so sorry I couldn't contact you." He could hear chatter in the back. "I'm with my cousin. We drove out to this convenience store, and the service is pretty good!— I mean, yeah, it's a little far, but..." You took a breath, speaking too quickly for your lungs to handle."I'm so happy I get to hear your voice, Satoru..!"

everything he wanted to say, you were saying it for him, Satoru knows he's clingy but when you return his clingliness it makes him believe that he was made for you— that he was truly loved by you.

Suddenly, the stress he felt from worrying about you, the overbearing silence of loneliness, your affections pouring to him through the phone, all of these factors shattered him; a sob choked him.

".. yeah - me too..!" Satoru hiccuped as he tried to wipe away forming tears. He can't be upset now. He has to be tough for you.

You didn't miss the sniffle that followed, setting your soda down in the cup holder of the car. You sat up briefly. "Honey? What's wrong?" Your cousin silently signalled they'll return into the store, not wanting to overhear a lover's quarrel. "Did something happen?"

Satoru shook his head, forgetting you couldn't see him. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "No - no, I'm fine.. I'm just really happy to hear from you."

Silence filled the call, a moment ago he was preparing himself to yell at you, cry to you, beg you to come home— now he didn't know what to do with himself as he had everything he wanted listening to him on the other end.

"... Hon? I'm really sorry." He hated how you knew just what to say when he began to crack. "I love you, I promise I'll be home soon, okay?"

You love him. You love him. He felt guily; he finally had a chance to speak with you, and he cried and made you feel like the bad guy, made you apologize for wanting to spend quality time with family, does he even deserve you at this point?

"... okay." Is all he can muster, Satoru always sounds so full of life— but now he just sounds defeated, as if faced with a foe that he couldn't damage or evade whatsoever. It broke your heart.

Satoru traced shapes into the covers that he practically kicked off him when he saw your nickname flash on his phone screen, he began. "Baby?"

"Hm? Yeah?"

".. when you get home, I'm gonna be more selfish with you." His tone was serious. He couldn't help but smile when he heard you laugh. "You're already selfish with me!"

"Hey, I've been very emotionally vulnerable recently, okay?" Satoru felt like the usual dynamic of your conversations is slowly seeping back. It felt right, like finding something he thought he misplaced.

"I'm not complaining, hon. I actually love it." He heard you shuffle a bit. "I think you deserve to be a little selfish. You've been so good for me lately, haven't you?"

Of course, he should've expected this from you; you're his smart girl. Of course you would notice how strained he seemed before you went on your trip.

"I thought I hid it pretty well.."

"Satoru."

".. what?" He grew wary of your unimpressed tone. He didn't slip up, did he?

"You were listening to Mitski all week." Ah, your shared music subscription gave him away.

"She perfectly puts my emotions into words, okay? So sue me!"

"I know, hon! But you were listening to First Love / Late Spring. What was I supposed to think?"

The conversation continues, from Lyricism to current routines to favourite cafe desserts. For the first time in a week, Satoru felt safe and comfortable enough to sleep.

Your conversation lulled him to a sleepy state, he could hear you shuffle and move about, he could hear the car start, your family commenting on your dynamic with him, even if the sound was minimised as the phone speaker was only moderately audible, as long as he could hear your voice then he was happy.

"So, either Wednesday or Tuesday..?" Satoru asked groggily after you explained your situation.

"Yeah - I'm hoping Tuesday, but we don't know yet, I'll drive back to the convenience store and tell you once I know." It sounded like a joke, but he knows you would do it.

"Baby- no, I can wait, I swear—"

"Can you, though?" He could hear the smile in your voice, Satoru let out a breathless laugh.

"... nah, I don't think I can."

[betonlosingfrogs]

⍟ 3am [geto x reader] ⍟

academic rival!geto suguru x reader (college au) synopsis: your arrogant over-achieving classmate who never has to study finally starts getting bad grades. the only person he can ask for tutoring sessions is you, because although he hates to admit it, you're terribly smart. of course, you would never want to be caught seen with him...so of course, the answer is late night tutoring sessions! word count: 3,294 words warnings: 18+ under the cut! mdni! gn!reader till the cut, fem reader below the cut, explicit language warning, slight academic angst, smoking, making out, hair pulling, mitski lyrics about yearning, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, oral sex (m! receiving) slight-sub!reader, slight-dom!geto, size kink if you squint

the rules of your college dorms were pretty strict, but the people who were supposed to enforce them were quite the opposite. it wasn't unusual to find students in rooms they weren't meant to enter at night. if a student was caught doing something, they'd tighten security for about a week, and then go back to the same old routine. it had been the highlight of your month when you had found out that suguru geto had been caught smoking at 2am near the supply closet window.

but it had been a few weeks to that incident, and he was getting cocky in class again, flirting and arguing with you during discussions, waving his test sheet in front of you when his grade was higher than yours. he would make witty, yet relevant little quips in class, easily charming the professors. it was frustrating to see him excel so effortlessly. he was always goofing off, you had never seen him actually read a textbook. granted, you weren't his friend either, you just had a lot of the same classes. but you toiled and struggled, putting in hours of study, just to be outdone by someone who really couldn't care less about his academic standing, other than the fact that he could use it to lord over you.

you sat in the lecture hall, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. just as class began, someone threw their bag down near your feet, flopping into the empty chair next to you. you looked up to the side, a frown decorating your features, only to see the one face you'd rather not. suguru flipped his bangs out of his face, and smirked at you. "mad that i got a higher grade again?"

you scoffed. "bullshit." you slid your answer sheet over to him, pointing at the score. it was an a+. suguru's eyes widened ever so slightly before narrowing. "well," he paused, "not bad for an idiot, i guess." you scowled, snatching the sheet back away, neatly putting it into your bag. "oh? who's the idiot who got a c?" you taunted him. the smirk disappeared from his face as he frowned. "fuck off." he said, and looked away from you. conversations between the two of you usually went this way; throwing insults and challenges at each other. he was so smooth while talking to other people. he just had to ruin your mood, and you had to ruin his. it was petty, but spite was an effective motivator.

class went by without him saying anything more to you. little did you know, he watched you as you took meticulous notes, how you squinted your eyes to read the presentation on the board, how your tongue poked out the side of your lips when you concentrated, how your hair fell into your eyes. god, how he wanted to be the one to push it behind your ears.

he was irritated with himself for falling for you. but there was something about your anger, your pettiness that made him gravitate towards you. he tried to stay away, but he could see your confused glare from across the room when test results were announced. if he had to choose one moment when his perception of you changed from classmate to cute classmate, it was that one time you had been carrying some papers for a professor and you had tripped in the hallway. he had caught you before you fell, his large hand on your back, your hand gripping the front of his shirt, papers flying everywhere. you had been so flustered, your gaze frantic, face flushed and all embarrassed; it was like a shot to the heart for him.

before you could exit the lecture hall, suguru's arm blocked your path. "i need to talk to you." he tilted his head down slightly to meet your eyes, although his gaze looked nothing but condescending through his lower lashes. "yeah yeah, you want to gloat about your grade in another subject, i'm sure," you said, pushing past him. "[name]." his voice was hoarse, pained almost. you turned to face him. his eyes were rimmed with red, dark circles extending to his normally chiseled cheekbones which now seemed slightly sunken.

it felt oddly good to see him like that, defeated. but it felt infinitely worse to see him like that as well, like the moon had suddenly disappeared from the night sky. "what do you want to talk about, geto?" you asked him, my voice less harsh than usual. "not here," he said, grabbing my arm and dragging me to a quiet corner.

he leaned against the wall, his tall figure shrinking slightly as his eyebrows furrowed together. "i'll be honest about this. i've never really needed to put in hours of studies for college. i'm a natural scholar." you frowned. was he, in fact, just gloating? "but," he continued, "recently i, i haven't been able to pay attention in class. i've been stressed, and i," he paused again, "i need tutoring..." he mumbled the last part. my eyes widened. "say that again?" you pinched yourself. he grimaced. "i need tutoring. from you."

you couldn't believe it. this was basically the equivalent of him announcing to the entire college that you were better. "say please." you might have been pushing it, but he gave in any way; you did feel a little guilty for taking advantage of his desperation, but you also felt powerful. so powerful. "please tutor me, [name]." he said through gritted teeth. you pulled a post-it note out of your bag and wrote something on it before neatly smacking it onto his chest and walking away.

suguru's heart skipped a beat when you touched his chest, the sensation of your hand lingered there. he read the post-it. it said: "thursday, 3am, room 682" along with a phone number, in the neatest handwriting he had seen.

neither of you wanted to be seen 'fraternising' with each other, so the obvious solution would be to meet when no one else could see you, that is, past curfew. but unlike suguru geto, you weren't a repeat rule-breaker. you had second thoughts. and third and fourth thoughts, but part of you was determined to follow through with this plan.

phone on silent, you creeped out of your room, quickly tiptoeing through the halls to get to the abandoned room 682. things were going well, even though your heart was still hammering in your chest. you heard footsteps from the turn behind you. you had jinxed it. you looked around frantically, trying to find a place to hide. a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into a small supply closet. you were surrounded by cigarette smoke and suguru's cologne. he had been smoking in the same place he had been caught. "geto-" you began. he pressed his hand onto your mouth, shutting you up. "shh." you were caged between his arms and the shelf. one move would've toppled something over. but it was hard to not squirm when he was this close to you.

you could feel his heartbeat, equally as frantic as yours. the footsteps got closer. you looked up to find his face in the dark, only to see him looking down at you. your heart skipped a beat, you tried to get over the feeling by blinking a few times. the sound of the footsteps receded into the distance. "idiot. who starts talking when they're trying to hide?" he scolded me in a whisper. he moved his hand away from my mouth, gently opening the door of the closet. you had no response. you snuck out.

when you had made it to the classroom, you finally relaxed. you set your textbook and notes down on a table. "geto, what do you want to start-?" you saw him lighting a cigarette. "seriously?" you were annoyed. "yeah, sweetheart, seriously. helps with the stress. especially when i'm with the source of my fucking stress." he retorted. you clicked your tongue. "oh i'm the source of your stress, geto? i could leave." you snapped back. "wait- shit. sorry, i'm just on edge." he apologised. he took a drag of his cig, letting smoke billow out of his mouth. "at least crack open a window." you walked up to the window and opened it just a little bit, enough to get the smoke out. you looked back at him. he was gazing at you, bangs in his eyes, the cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

you cleared your throat. "so, what do you want to start with?" "psychology." he muttered through puffs of smoke, ashing his cigarette on the window sill. he moved to sit on the bench near the table. you coughed before following him. you switched on your torch and pointed it at the book and began to explain the lesson to him. he took scratchy notes in the torchlight, his eyebrows furrowing as his hair fell into his eyes again. you set the torch down. you shifted closer to him. his eyes widened as your arms circled his neck. you tied up his hair and clipped his bangs back without a word. "what?" you asked when you saw his flustered expression. "just focus so i can go sleep," you sighed.

and he did focus. for a good hour. it was irritating how quickly he understood things. he expertly answered each question you asked. "correct, geto." you spoke in a low voice.

"why don't you ever call me by my first name?" his question caught you off guard. "i- i don't see how that's relevant right now." you stuttered back. "say my name," he said. "no. you need to focus on the lesson." he closed the textbook, leaning towards you, too close for comfort. "say it. once." you got up from the bench, moving towards to window. he followed you, "why won't you say it?" "we aren't close enough!" he frowned.

"you're the only one i thought of when i couldn't understand stuff in class. i thought we had some weird academic respect for each other. guess not." a muscle in his jaw twitched. he picked up his notebook agitatedly, and stuffed it into his bag. He strode towards the door.

"you're acting like a baby! you're the one who called me here, and you're leaving because i won't say your damn first name?!" you were getting so frustrated with his lingering looks and with your own confused feelings. but he didn't show any signs of stopping.

"suguru!"

he froze. his breath caught in his throat. his chest tightened. he hadn't expected one word from your mouth to have so much sway over him. he turned around. "suguru," you said again, "just, i can't see you like this anymore." "like what?" he asked, taking a few steps back into the room. "like you're not yourself. you've stopped arguing with me in class. stopped flirting."

he let out a chuckle. "you miss my flirting?" "n-no, that- ugh, you've lost your spirit. you're burnt out. i don't find it fun to have a guaranteed win. i might stop working for it." you looked into his eyes. you cared for him more than you realised. and he for you, except he was fully aware. he moved closer still. "can't let that happen, can we?" he whispered. "do you pity me?" he asked. "no, are you stupid? you, you're the reason i push myself. you-" you sighed, "i study for hours to keep up with you, so you don't think i'm stupid."

"i've never thought you were stupid." he replied.

"but you're always so irritating, so condescending-" my mind was reeling. it was hard to force yourself to dislike him when he looked at you so genuinely. "i just like to see you riled up," he admitted, chuckling to himself. "you're doing it again, and i'll never be good enough to-" "who the fuck is telling you that you're not good enough?" he grabbed your face in his hands. "you're- you're way more than enough, [name]." he looked into your eyes.

his eyes flitted to your lips, and back to your eyes, almost begging for silent permission. butterflies fluttered in your stomach. you stretched up to meet his lips, leaving a soft peck on his lips. his eyes widened. "fuck." he whispered. his lips crashed into yours. his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into his body, closer, as close as possible. he moved his lips against yours, pulling your lower lip between his teeth, softly sucking on it. one of his hands cradled the back of your neck, supporting it as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. soft hums left your mouth, your hands grabbed the front of his shirt. you broke the kiss to breathe, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, glimmering silver in the moonlight from the window. sounds of heavy breathing filled the room.

I don’t need the world to see That I’ve been the best I can be But I don’t think I could stand to be Where you don’t see me

"maybe you tutor me for class, and i can teach you other things~" suguru spoke low, suggestively. you whacked his chest lightly. "shut up." he grinned. "make me."

you kissed him again, pulling him down to your height. your hand wandered from the back of his neck to his hair, pulling the scrunchie out, letting the dark waves of his hair fall over his shoulders. your fingers tangled themselves with his tresses. you felt like if you let go of him, this would all disappear. he held you with just as much fervour, grasping at the flesh of your waist, your thighs. his touch was hungry, possessive. he was almost overwhelmed by the relief that came with returned feelings.

but kissing didn't feel like enough. both of you wanted, no, needed more. as the kiss broke, your eyes met. he grabbed your arm, pulling you out of room 682, down the hallway. "s-suguru! we need our stuff!" you whispered frantically. "hell no, i need you, we can get that shit tomorrow," he replied, heaving. he opened the door to his room, pulling you inside.

he shut the door and pushed you against it. his lips found yours again, passionate, voracious. his tongue pushed into your mouth again, harder this time. you mewled a little, trying to keep up with his movements to no avail. he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up into his arms, your back still firmly pressed against the wall. your arms were placed around his neck, gripping his lean shoulders, pulling at his hair. he groaned, rutting his hips into yours for friction. he kissed your neck, licking a long stripe down to your collarbone. you sighed, your fingers still playing with his hair.

he turned with you still in his arms, and brought you to his bed, laying you down. he backed away and tugged off his t-shirt. your eyes scanned his torso. he smirked when he noticed you staring. "take a picture, princess, it'll last longer." you looked away. he crawled onto the bed, hovering over you. he tugged at your shirt. "strip."

he couldn't help but wonder what you looked like under your clothes. you gingerly pulled your t-shirt up. his breath hitched. his hand touched your stomach and it set your skin ablaze. you moaned softly when he began to caress your waist. "suguru," his name left your lips in a sensual whisper. his eyes raked over your naked upper body. "beautiful..." he murmured. he couldn't wait any more. he pulled your shorts down to your ankles, swallowing as he saw a growing wet patch on your panties. you pressed your thighs to together in an attempt to hide your arousal. he pried your legs wide open, pushing them into your chest, smooshing against your breasts, practically folding you in half. he prodded at the wet patch with his long fingers, gaining mewls and a twitch from you. he wanted more. he wanted to see your reactions, he wanted to hear your voice scream out his name.

he pushed his fingers against your underwear again, rubbing with more force. you cried out. your legs shook, but he held them open and in place. he lowered his face to your clothed cunt. "stop- suguru, it isn't clean-" you began. he shut you up by sucking your clit over your panties. "mnngh~!!" you moaned. "don't care, it tastes too good to stop," he pushed your underwear to the side and licked you again. and again. harder, faster. he sucked on your clit, giving you a break only by stuffing long fingers inside you, curling them to push against your gummy walls. and then he went back to kitten licking your clit at an insane speed. you were losing yourself under him, you thrashed around, unable to move freely because his hand held your legs firmly in place. "suguru~! nghh~ hah~!" you moaned his name, head thrown back, eyebrows furrowed. your hips twitched and bucked up to meet his lips.

he looked up to meet your eyes. his chin was covered in slick that shined in the low light. he smirked and immediately went back to eating you out. the knot that had been tightening in your stomach, snapped. lewd sounds of liquid sloshing against skin, of suguru's licks and your strangled moans filled the room. your eyes widened as you saw the spray, coating suguru's chin, lips and your thighs. what had you done? "i'm sorry, i-" "again. squirt again for me, princess." it wasn't a request. he was going to make you do it again.

he thumbed your clit, you shivered. you were still sensitive. "w-wait." you grabbed his hand. he tilted his head at you. "i..." you took a breath, "...i want to taste you too." he blushed.

"fuck. you're going to be the death of me." he let go of your legs. he unzipped his pants, pulling them off. you sat up, kneeling on the bed. he sat down beside you and you touched him over the fabric of his underwear. it looked tight enough to tear. you gently hooked your fingers under his briefs, tugging them off to let his dick slap against his abdomen. it wasn't going to be easy to fit him, well, anywhere. you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. suguru did the same on the other side. you touched his hand, smiling a bit, before placing your lips around his angry red tip.

you sucked him off, trying not to let your teeth touch him. but your teeth did graze past his sensitive shaft, he shuddered, gripping your hair. "no teeth, baby, please," he grunted. you nodded, and realised it felt good for him. satisfied sighs and moans escaped his mouth. "doing so well, princess," he praised. you alternated between licking and sucking, and then used your hands to pump the length which you couldn't reach with your mouth. "good fucking girl," he rutted into your mouth, chasing his pleasure. his dick was twitching near your throat, and his salty precum was smeared on your lips. his hand found your cunt again, drawing quick circles around your clit. you moaned and gagged around his length, tears stinging at your eyes. he was groaning, panting, hips rutting into your face. your hips shook with pleasure as he flicked your clit just right, making you release again, and he fingered you through your orgasm. "fuck~!" he shot his cum into your throat, with a loud moan. you slid your lips off his dick, swallowing. he kissed you. you could taste both him and yourself. he pulled you into his arms. "if this is how all our tutoring sessions are going to end, i think i should let my grades drop further," he panted suggestively. "you're insufferable," you sighed, and you kissed him again.

hello! this was my first time writing smut (T^T) i hope you liked my style of writing, and i hope i haven't messed up any of the warnings. anyways, this was fully a guilty pleasure piece of writing because suguru is literally my husband <3 my requests are open, i would love to write for more characters, so please send in your ideas!

(p.s. if you noticed the action of geto finally getting to tuck reader's hair behind their ear, ur a real one <3)

love, BetOnLosingFrogs

[cryptictongues]

Lonely Punity

pairing: Rufus Shinra x AFAB!Reader rating: Mature word count: 1.6k summary: "You believe me like a god. I betray you like a man."

warnings: angst, hurt, smut (references female anatomy)

Author's Notes: I was heavily inspired by "I'm Your Man" by Mitski for this short fic. Something about it just SCREAMS Rufus to me.

Spoilers involve mentions of the events at Junon and Rufus' plans towards the end of the game, so be wary!

[AO3 link]

Rufus doesn’t deserve you, that he knows for certain. The constant battle between his wants and his reality raging inside of him, desperate to resolve itself. But he knows it’s not that easy. It never is. 

Which is why he is here once again, completely bare and vulnerable with your legs wrapped around his hips. His fingers work you open, working to ring out gasps and hums of approval as he gets you ready for him.

The minute Rufus saw you, he was intrigued. From your prowess to your intellect, you became one of the best in the Turks ranks. He has watched you train through blood, sweat and tears, and in the end you had managed to prove that you were up to the challenge to serve. 

To serve him.

He never expected you to stick by his side, and he truly never expected to become enamored with you. He has had many lovers, none of them ever serious. But after he got sent away to Junon, he was surprised to see that it was you who were sent to be there with him. He thought his exile would be the time for him to plan his next steps, to plan for the right time to make his return. However, it wasn’t the only thing he got in his solitude.

Loneliness has never been anything new to him. It’s a birthright; something he was born with. As a child, his dad was never around, either doing business or fucking other women. He would belittle him, like he was nothing. His mom had passed early into his years of life. It’s as if he was being punished, but to what effect? He never could grasp. All he knew was loneliness was a curse, and maybe it’s what he deserves.

But you, you alleviated him. His time with you was never dull, never cold. You’d listen to him. You made him laugh. You even made him forget. It was as if his life was normal with you around. He didn’t feel lonely in your presence, and that was new for him. 

You are perfect. In every sense of the word, that is what you are to Rufus. Your perfection is not something he feels deserving of. 

But at the end of the day, he is a man and man takes and takes. And he wonders if that alone is why you, someone of your caliber, submit to him so easily.

“Fuck, Rufus! I need you please!”

Need . He has needed you from the start.

He takes his fingers away from your dripping cunt, his soaked fingers running along his cock. He slaps it across your heat a few times, savoring the way it clenches on nothing. He lets the head linger on your clit a second more, before dragging it down your folds to where you need him and where he is craving to be. 

He slides home, moans leaving his and your lips in unison, before he presses his body down on yours with his elbows laying to rest on either side of your shoulders. His hands hold your cheeks, his blue eyes looking into yours. The way you are looking at him, awe in your expression, makes Rufus shiver. He pulls his hips away slowly, a soft gasp coming from you, before slamming back in. All he can think is how perfect you feel around him.

“I got you, my angel. Now sing for me.”

Your eyes don’t falter with the rest of your expression. They stay on his, looking at him like he is a God, and that makes Rufus want to spiral.

You are not deserving of her. 

You are bad for her.

You deserve loneliness.

He has made love to you multiple times, but he knew this time was different, for it would be the last. 

You had been by his side for so long, protecting him throughout everything. While all the Turks had laid down their lives for him, it was you he always wanted by his side. But there was always that nagging feeling in his chest that he would cause you trouble, for he had enemies everywhere. He knew things would amp up once his dad passed, and he felt it even more now that the past is haunting him. However, he ignored it. How selfish of him. 

It wasn’t until the day he was almost assassinated that he knew he would be your ruin. All he could recall was one second, he was standing, and the next he was on the ground. He remembers being pulled up, only to see you on the ground clutching the back of your neck with blood seeping in between your fingers.

Rufus never gets scared, but that day will forever terrify him. If you had pushed him just that much sooner, you would be dead. Your blood would’ve been on his hands.

Thoughts of that day rummage his head, making him thrust harder into you. His hands travel to the back of your neck, the scar evident as they pass, and grasp onto your hair. A choked moan left your mouth, and Rufus went to swallow whatever follows. His lips are on yours messily, grunting into your mouth every time he is fully inside you. He feels you clench on him, trying to pull him in more like it was possible.

“Tell me,” he gasps into your mouth, refusing to let up. “Tell me you love me.”

What a selfish thing to ask. 

“I love you,” you choked out at a particularly hard thrust he delivers. 

He grips your hair tighter, craving you. “Tell me again.”

“Oh God! Rufus, I love you!”

In the earlier days, he would have relished in your devotion. Now, he feels distraught. Out of everyone on the planet, why did you have to love him? And why were you the only one to ever give him an ounce of it? 

You are a drug he takes and takes with greed, wanting to quit but unable. He begs for you to tell him that you love him, praying that it���ll sway him, but he knows it won’t work. With everything on the horizon, the utmost dangerous plans he was about to engage everyone in, he can’t fathom putting you in it. He will not relive the trauma of the thought of losing you again. He will do what he must to keep you safe and if that means making an enemy out of himself, he will.

He knows you all too well. He knows you will do anything to protect him and to help advance him. He knows you will sacrifice everything to get what information is needed when they travel to what they hope is the Promised Land. And because of that courage, he will hold you back. 

He can feel his orgasm coming, his hips moving with vigor as you shake beneath him from your own. His body starts tensing, preparing itself for release and it isn’t until your nails dig into his back, scratching up to behind his neck to keep his head leveled with yours that he starts to tip downward. 

“Cum for me, my love. For me.”

For you.

He cries out for you, slowing his hips down as he rides it out. Your eyes stayed on him, mirroring his expressions as you pulsed around his cock. He moves slower until he stops all together, sighing as he closes his eyes tightly, holding the tears in. 

He feels your hands caress his face, bringing him down for a languid kiss. He wants to stay like this forever. He wants it to be you and him against everything and everyone. 

But what he wants isn’t in the cards for him.

He rolls over you, panting in recovery, before he turns to look at you once more. You are looking at him, deep affection stirring in your eyes. It makes him want to weep at what could be, but he holds it together.

“Come here,” he murmurs, patting his chest.

You crawled over to him, curling up into his side and laying your head over his heart. You are warm against him, the post-coital glow radiating into his side. He’s going to miss this.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Yes, but it’s not what you think.

“No, I’m not.”

He hears you breathe out, a slight quiver like you know something you shouldn’t but you don’t mention it. You just snuggle into him closer. 

“That’s good. Everything will go according to plan. I’ll make sure of it.”

Rufus lays in silence for a while, you having long passed out. He studies your face, and it looks as peaceful as ever; like nothing is wrong and everything is as it should be.

Rufus’ chest tightens up. You won’t forgive him after tomorrow. He is already picturing how you will scream at him for taking you off the mission. Yell at how you will be moved somewhere far away from what will transpire. Plead to stay by his side with the others. 

Maybe you will figure him out, maybe not. Maybe you will resent him forever and see this as a betrayal, but he doesn’t care. He can stand to be lonely, for that has been his whole life. He wouldn’t survive knowing that your life was taken for nothing.

Taken by nothing except a pigheaded, pathetic, daddy-hating child.

So, Rufus will stay like this for the time being. He will allow this one last act of indulgence before he cuts the cord. If he must stay alone forever to keep you safe, then he will do what he must. 

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