#and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

the things you do for love ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

and it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

#satoru ”my girl look so good today im abt to scream and moan and throw up” gojo #he is so husband coded to me. so unbelievably babygirl #he would absolutely wear a maid dress if u asked him to btw. and he would rock that shit so hard. #just……. gojo in a dress………….. breathe if u agree #im a firm believer in flustered satoru also….. #it wouldnt happen often but if u act cute enough i just think smth in his brain stops working #and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks #who said that. #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

[goldenkirstein]

i'd be home with you

or alternatively, jean has a bad day at work, and you pamper him

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

zuzu requested: Modern AU Jean/fem reader where Jean comes home after a really long day at work (his shift ends later than yours does so you always come in a few hours before him) He's in a rly pissy mood but you think it's adorable so you give him a nice tight hug and he relaxes a bit 😭 then you coax him towards the bedroom so you can pamper him, asking him to place his head on your lap so you can rub his temples until he falls asleep...

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 2.2k+

tags: fluff, some angst (?) modern! au, female reader, language, mentions of food.

a/n: this was so much fun to write, I love jean and always wanna take care of him bhsbhsbh, i changed up some things to make it fit, and it kinda got a teeeeensy but angsty but not too much. i hope you enjoy.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You outstretched your arms, eyes glancing over to the clock in the corner of the living room.

Jean should be home soon.

The sound of the ticking clock filled the room as you laid back down on the couch, the side of your face pressed against the cool leather of the armrest, fingers lazily grazing over the pale white stitches, the bumps and ridges comforting you while you waited for your husband to come home.

Not too long after, you heard the familiar noise of the keys jingle against the doorknob, prompting you to shift your body to watch Jean as he walked through the front door; your lips quirked into a gentle smile, and you got up to greet him.

However, you noticed that he wasn’t his usual cheery self today. Weariness was clear as day on his face. He raised his eyebrows at you, the only indication that he acknowledged your presence.

He struggled to slip off his shoes until eventually sighing and reaching down to untie them, hair falling in front of his face, he cursed under his breath. You let out a giggle, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth, suppressing the noise.

“What are you laughing about?” He furrowed his brows, following your eyes until he realized you were staring at the socks peeping out of his shoes.

Tiny fried eggs decorated the navy socks he was wearing. He looked back up at you, an amused expression on your face, still trying to suppress your laughter.

His shoulders drooped, and he scowled at you, “knew I shouldn’t have worn these dumb socks today.”

You frowned and made your way over to him, “aww, baby, I wasn’t laughing at you, and hey, you love those socks! You look so cute with them on! ”

Jean turned his face away from you, “I’m not cute,” your frown deepened, and you brought your hand up to his face, causing him to look at you. Your wedding band was cool contrast against his cheek.

“Sure you are, my love. Did you not have a good day today?” At that, his eyes fluttered shut. He brought his hand up to remove yours; however, his hand lingered, resting on top of yours.

“Gonna take that as a no then.”

He nodded in agreement before opening his eyes and dropping his hand. You traced your fingers on his cheek until moving your arm around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Jean wrapped his arms around your torso, relaxing into your touch. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne, “missed you today, baby.”

You felt him release a deep breath, and you moved your hand to run your fingers through his hair. He hugged you tighter in response to your action, “missed you too.” His voice a low grumble.

Jean let go first, mumbling a quick thank you, and he gave you a slight smile, the first sign of happiness you could see on his face since he walked through the door minutes prior.

He began to bend down to finish taking off his shoes before you stopped him, “Nuh-uh, come with me.”

You gently tugged him up by elbow before clasping his hand in yours, leading the both of you into your bedroom. He opened his mouth in protest, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, hun? Someone requires some T.L.C.” Pronouncing every letter with a slight lilt in your voice, you turned your head to smile at your husband; his eyebrows were still furrowed, shoulders carrying the weight of the day on him. You knew that if you left Jean to his own devices, he would end up bottling his feelings and act like nothing was wrong.

Your feet padded gently into the room; Jean followed suit. He pulled at your hand to let him go, but you weren’t giving up that easy. He was a stubborn man, no doubt about it, but after years of being together, when it came to Jean, you were just as headstrong.

Smoothing your palm over the soft beige bedsheets, you sat down, tapping your clothed thigh, “come lay down; you’ll feel better if you do.” You watched the man in front of you clench his jaw, tired, hazel eyes gazing into yours.

“I haven’t even taken my shoes off yet.” He sighed; your only response was to tug him closer to your seated frame. Pouting your lips up at him, you watched him chew the inside of his cheek before finally obliging.

“See, that wasn’t so hard” You grinned as you saw Jean sit down next to you and lay his head in your lap, ash brown hair splaying across your thighs. He hummed in content when he felt you run your fingers through the hair near his temples. “You wanna talk about what happened?” Jean shook his head, furrowing his brows once again. You swiped your thumb over the creased skin, causing his expression to soften.

He blinked his eyes up at you, “you don’t have to do this; I’m fine.” He tried to get up, but you pressed your palm against his chest, eyes pleading. You tilted your head at him, gazing with tenderness before hunching over to lightly kiss his forehead.

“Let me take care of you, Jeanie? Please?”

He laid back down, allowing you to rub his temples, taking away the pain of the day. It was the least you could do; on days where you felt unloveable, Jean would be there for you, holding you, whispering reassurances in your ear, delicately reminding you of his love and lending his strength to you when you needed it. So, while it pained your heart to watch Jean feel less than, it was second nature to you; you would always be there for him when he needs it.

The repetitive movements of the pads of your fingers against his head were soothing him, Jean’s eyelids were heavy, the time he spent with his eyes shut getting longer and longer with each passing minute.

“Haven’t taken my socks off.” He whispered, sleep overtaking him; his speech was slightly slurred.

“Don’t worry, you just sleep.” You continued massaging his head until his breathing steadied, eyes no longer opening. You smiled at the sight; he looked so peaceful and beautiful when he slept. Pausing your movements, you bent down and gave him another kiss on his forehead, smoothing the hair on his head.

You lifted him off your lap, sliding out from underneath him, and softly placed his head down on a pillow, careful not to disturb him. He shifted, turning to face the window next to the bed. The sun was beginning to set, and the slivers of orange light peeking through the curtains dusted over Jean’s face.

“My beautiful boy.” Warmth spread over your chest as you watched your husband rest, content that at this moment, his worries were not plaguing him.

You slid off his shoes, chuckling at the sight of socks once more. Jean had called the socks dumb, but you knew that he loved them. When you got them for him for his birthday, you remembered how he laughed when he unwrapped the package; the sound rang through the air, causing you to giggle at his reaction, before he reached over to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, murmuring a soft thank you through a wide-toothed smile.

After pulling off his socks, you quietly got him out of his dress shirt and pants and slipped a pair of sweatpants over his legs before drawing the comforter over his body and placing a kiss on his shoulder.

--

Jean awoke to the smell of spices wafting in from the kitchen; he rubbed his eyes. It was dark outside. He wondered how he got into bed; the last thing he remembered was him laying in your lap.

Oh.

The young man felt a wave of guilt wash over his body. He realized that he was wearing sweatpants, his office attire neatly hanging in the closet adjacent to him. Jean groaned and pulled the covers off his body; had he been sleeping all this time? You were working away in the kitchen, you even took off his shoes, and here he was, lazing away like a dog.

It was pathetic, he thought, making you take care of him just because he had a bad day at work. Jean stepped out of the bedroom; stretching out his limbs, he made his way over to the kitchen, the smell of food getting more robust with each step.

You turned when you heard the soft padding of his feet against the kitchen tile, “you’re awake! Did you sleep well?” You beamed at him before turning your attention back to the stovetop.

He padded over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you seriously don’t have to do this; I’m alright.” His voice husky, vibrating against your back.

You shifted your body to look at him, quizzical expression painting your face, “why won’t you let me pamper you? Don’t you deserve that?”

Jean was silent.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Jean.” Your hand left the handle of the pan and held onto the hands around your middle. “Let me carry some of that burden. Let me.”

“It’s not fair.” Jean’s eyes between yours and the food on the stove.

“What’s not fair, baby? You take care of me when I’m sick when I can barely get out of bed. Isn’t that the vow we made to each other?” You paused, watching as Jean’s head fell into the crook of your neck. “I won’t love you any less, and I certainly will not let you act like everything is fine when it’s not. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but just allow me to look after you.”

“You tell me how much you love me every day, so let me show you how much I love you through this, okay?”

Jean wondered what stars aligned for him to find someone like you. He still felt guilty, but he knew that arguing would be futile, so he finally succumbed, “I love you.”

His mouth curled up into a slight smile; he meant it every time he said it, even when the both of you had been arguing or when you left for work, he meant it every single time.

You didn’t think it was possible, but your heart grew in fondness for Jean, “I know.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before returning yours to the handle.

Jean’s stomach grumbled, causing him to groan. You let out a laugh, “See, I knew you hadn’t eaten at work. Go sit; I’ll finish up this Omurice.”

He slipped his arms away from your waist before going to sit on the stool near the kitchen island, head resting on his propped-up palm, watching as you plate up the food.

His eyes twinkled with adoration, the guilt in his chest dissipating as he noticed how much care you’re putting into the meal. There was a time that Jean didn’t think he was worthy of being loved, but having you in his life pieced him back together again.

You made your way over to him, handing him a fork and setting down the plate. Your husband took it from your hands, giving you a questioning look, before taking a bite. His eyes widened, “this is really fucking good, here try some.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, glad that he liked the food; Jean brought the fork to your lips, which you opened, the warm rice and luscious egg filled your mouth, you shut your eyes, savouring the taste, "holy shit."

Jean laughed at your surprise, taking another bite of the food. You went over to a drawer to grab a fork before sitting next to him to eat.

When both of you finished your meal, you stood up to grab the plate to clean it. However, Jean halted you before you could pick it up, "let me."

His voice came out a gentle whisper, but it was sincere; you nodded your head, relaxing back in your seat, watching as the man went around the kitchen island to clean the utensils.

He worked swiftly in silence. After drying the plate and placing it in the cupboard, Jean looked up at you, "thank you for this."

"You don't have to thank me, my love."

He blushed at your words, "still, I'm so lucky to have you; I don't know if I tell you that enough."

You stood up and made your way over to Jean, his hands rested on your hips, and you moved your fingers to brush away the few strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes. He smiled tenderly at you before pulling you closer to him by your hips.

He pressed his lips against yours, and you reciprocated the kiss, soft lips melding against each other. His hands travelled up your sides, eventually cupping your face. You smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"I'll love you always, Jean." Your hands came up to hold his, and you turned your cheek to press a kiss into his palm.

"I know."

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this !! any feedback is appreciated !! i'm really not sure what is going on with tagging, but if anyone knows how to fix the issue of certain people not being able to get tagged that would be super helpful !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu, @clean-soap

click here to join my taglist

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this, I appreciate it lots <33

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot fluff #jean x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirstein imagine #jean kirschtein x you #jean x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk imagines #jean kirstein x you #jean kirschtein x y/n #jean kirstein x y/n #attack on titan x reader #my writing #jean kirstein angst #jean angst #jean fluff #jean kirschtein angst #jean kirschtein fluff #aot angst #snk angst #jean kirschtein

[oikadori]

um could you maybe do a post where their s/o is acting rly shy and wearing a bunch of huge baggy clothes ( they posted on social media and they're getting hate comments about their size since they're overweight and they're insecure ) and then bokuto, terushima and yaku cheer them up.

REACTING TO THEIR S/O GETTING HATE ON SOCIAL MEDIA BECAUSE OF THEIR SIZE

⇢ Includes : bokuto , terushima , yaku 

⇢ Genre//warnings : comfort, f!reader // self-doubt , insecuritiies , body image

⇢ WC~ 0,8K

a/n:  My requests were closed by the time but I liked your idea and my brain decided to make something  so here you go love! Hope you like it!

reblogs are very appreciated ;)

➔ he has always been very protective with you and even though he checks up on you daily he is also very,  blunt

➔ constantly having emotional drops makes bokuto very conscious of how ugly insecurities can be

➔ however, for bokuto to notice those insecurities in you, you must talk about them with him . this means, when you start wearing more oversize hoodies and long sleeve shirts, he doesn’t think it is because of other’s opinions

➔ in fact, the sight of you wearing more of his big t-shirts and sweaters makes his heart warm. but he can’t deny the way your mood switches every time you check your phone. it is the moment you flinch away from him when he is about to tickle your tummy, he realizes there is something wrong.

➔ so he asks you. bokuto usually is not a very good listener but he puts extra effort to listen to each word that slips through your lips, through your whole explanation, his brows remain furrowed and his chest feels heavy. bokuto is someone very empathetic and seeing you on the verge of tears hits him hard

➔“but..w-why would they say that? you are gorgeous” bokuto quickly holds you tight against him, pressing your head into his broad chest. he makes sure to name every single part of and your body that makes his heart flutter, smooching your face to emphasize each word

➔ this will have him awake until his head cracks a solution but as for now, he is gonna throw at you all the praises he can think of. “have i told you how insane it is that i get to call you my girlfriend? no? well i’m a lucky guy”

➔ awooga this cocky mf….sorry . terushima is also super protective with you maybe as much as bokuto, but is much more hotheaded

➔ he loves to show you off so someone degrading you because of  something as your size definitely gets into his nerves. he squints his eyes, opens them wide and squints them again, staring at the disgusting comments. he is pretty impulsive, so he starts tapping angrily the keyboard, throwing swears under his breath as he replies

➔ this is another one who goes straightforward about it. when he sees you walking around the house with those oversize clothes you no longer used, his usual grin curves down. your eyes widen when he pulls you onto his lap, hands firmly on your thighs making soothing motions as your legs straddle him.

➔ “okay, i know what’s bothering you so please talk to me.” he won’t let you go until you tell him how you are feeling and for him there is nothing more important than you knowing how mesmerizing you are. like bokuto, he is not such a great listener and you know it, so watching him looking directly into your eyes and nodding makes your heart soft

➔ so for tersuhima, an immediate solution to cheer your mood is spoiling you rotten, he takes you to the mall, encouraging you to try on almost all the store and with every outfit you try on his eye glisten and a wide smile spread on his lips

➔ you both leave the mall with hands and arms stuffed with bags and he is more than happy. “you are so fucking beautiful, you know that? yeah?”

➔ yaku is calmer and more subtle addressing this situation, unlike the other two, but that doesn’t mean he is less protective with you, don’t get me wrong, he gets into beast mode whenever you are involved.

➔ it is in the small things he notices there is something up . how you start covering up, how you take longer to choose your outfit and then take some good 20 minutes before changing it again. but as i said, he will first observe and give you reassuring words before asking you what is going on

➔ he patiently waits for you to open up with him and tries to ignore the anxious feeling he gets by watching your head down. so when you feel confident enough to tell him, yaku listens attentively immediately clasps his fists, anger boiling in his stomach

➔ “they did what?!” he stares at the comments for 10 solid minutes, fingers holding his chin analyzing them“you know these are nonsenses, right?”

➔ “m-maybe they are right mori” as i said, he will try to keep his composure but nothing makes him more crazy than you doubting about yourself yaku grabs your hand and drags you to your bedroom, standing in front of a mirror with you

➔ “i’m in love with everything i see, okay? everything” then, kinda like bokuto, he enlists all of the things he finds beautiful in you but the difference is that gives you a reason for each of the things he names

➔ remember when i said he goes into beast mode…after you are smiling again he non-chalantly asks you “now, beautiful, any idea where do they live?”

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #hq bokuto #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu x chubby reader #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons #terushima x you #yaku x reader #yaku x you #yaku headcanons #soft headcanons #haikyuu soft

[soulwillower]

babylove • stan uris

(stanley uris x reader smut)

requested: hi bb teasing stan like cuddling w underwear at first fluffy shit and then you shake your ass at him and he is just a sucker for you with smut hehe 🐸    +     can you write a dom stanley smut? where he dirty talks to reader and its like really dirty and ksajlda yeah lol sorry i don't mean to be annoying

warning: smut, unprotected sex, dom stan, fingering, oral (male and fem receiving), stan is rly into dirty talk in this, cumplay SORRY, this escalates kinda quickly oops sorry, unedited

[losers + reader are 20+ in this]

1.8k words

sorry i didn't know what to call this and it got a lot dirtier than its intent but i hope u guys like! sorry to make u guys wait anons :)

♡

it was unlike stanley to nap in the afternoons. in fact, you can't remember the last time he did, but he's sleeping soundly behind you as you take off your necklace.

you sigh, watching his face as he sleeps, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths and his bare skin glowing. you feel so at peace, breathing in the scent of his room and how incredible he is. 

you love him.

turning back, you undo your top and slip into one of stan's shirts, pulling your pants off and combing your fingers through your hair.

"y/n?" a gravelly voice calls to you from behind and you spin with a small smile on your lips. "hi, honey. did you sleep well?" you ask with a giddy smile, watching as he slowly blinks the sleep from his face.

"will you c'mere, love?" stan mumbles, hands forming grabby hands as he tries to beckon you into the warm chasm of sheets and the blue duvet that is his bed. you bite your lip to cover your smile, instantly giving in, your legs pulling you towards him.

stan's grinning up at you with his boyish smile, his cheeks slightly rosy from the warmth of the covers, and his curly hair tousled. as he scoots aside to leave you a spot to slide into, you can't help but feel a rush of need flow through your body. 

you slide up against him and his arm immediately loops over you, his lips tickling your neck softly. you giggle lightly as you feel him smile against your neck and you breathe out slowly, listening as his breathing slows again.

it's quiet for a few minutes, you know he's still awake, and you're getting restless so you slowly move your hips back so your ass presses against his own hips. he lets out a deep breath through his nose as you move and you bite your lip.

you slowly move again, wiggling your hips and grinning as you feel him twitch slightly. he hums lowly, hand reaching around your body to circle your waist. "what're you doing?" he mumbles into your neck. it's a deep noise and his breath hitting your neck makes you shiver. you grin, "nothing. just getting comfortable." you say cheekily, moving your hips again.

his hand holds you against him and pushes forward so he grinds against your ass. you bite back a small moan and grin. he hums and you can imagine his smirk as his hand slips lower, slipping between your thighs and making heat rush to your center. you whimper lightly as he cups you over your already soaked panties and he tuts, echoing your previous words, "jus' getting comfortable, babylove."

you bite back a groan as he moves himself against you, his fingers rubbing your clothed heat slowly. "so pretty." he mutters into your neck, his now hard cock pressing against you and making you weak with lust. you moan and grind back on him, your hand moving to slip over his hips, palming him through his boxers.

he lets out a groan that is so dirty that it makes you whimper and then he slips your panties to the side, fingers circling through your folds and making you moan. "stan," you moan, your hips jutting back as he slips two long fingers inside you.

he groans as he pumps his fingers into you, his lips moving up your neck, "you need my cock, baby?"

his words make you tremble with need as his fingers work you open, "yes, yes, please stan." you whimper, sounding extremely needy. he smirks against you and then you reach around behind yourself and slip your hand into his boxers, thumb swiping over the tip of his cock and collecting the precum. 

he groans into your neck and his fingers pound harder into you, his other hand angling your hips slightly so he can hit a deeper spot in you. you moan into the pillow, eyes shutting in bliss as your wrist flicks over his cock, his hups bucking into you.

he pulls his fingers out of you and you sigh shakily, your own hand stopping as he pulls your underwear down your legs and tugs his own boxers down. you're breathing heavily, sighing in need as you feel his hard cock rubbing between your folds and teaching you as his tip teases you. "please, please, please." you mutter into the pillow, jutting your hips back in need.

"that's right." he mutters into the shell of your ear, slowly easing himself into you and stretching you out. you gasp at the feeling - you and stan had never tried this position before and you're weak at the sensation. he bottoms out and your legs shake slightly as he starts to pull out and ease in, building a pace that has you moaning quietly.

"whose are you, babylove?" he mutters, his hips thrusting into you at a rough pace. you moan loudly at the sinful feeling of his cock stretching you out as his hand strikes down on your ass. you squeal, arching your back and moaning through a gulp, the feeling making your toes curl. his hand slides up your shirt and palms your bare breasts, pinching your nipples as he pounds into you.

"yours, stan, i'm- fuck, i'm all yours." you say desperately, moving your hips to work with him as he fucks you relentlessly, his arm holding you tight against his chest.

"that's right, good girl." he utters, fingers moving to toy with your clit as he thrusts into you. "so desperate for my cock, huh?" he mutters and your eyes are shut, nodding and moaning in a mess.

you feel yourself close, your abdomen clenching in pleasure as your legs shake. he's hitting deep inside you and you let out a long moan.

suddenly he pulls out and his hands grab you, flipping you onto your back as he scoots back. "you close, baby?" he mutters, lifting up the shirt on you as he kisses down your abdomen. "y-yes." you murmur, hips bucking as he licks a stripe up your heat. he groans against you, making your legs shake at the feeling. stan's lips attach to your clit, his hands wrapping around your legs to hold your hips down. you let out a choked gasp, back arching as you clench, his tongue moving expertly to ruin you.

your hands tug his curls and he looks up at you, eyes glinting devilishly from between your shaking thighs. "d-don't stop." you mumble, your hips straining against his arms. he hums lowly and you hit your peak right after, legs shaking and chest heaving, eyebrows pulled together as you moan his name.

he pulls away abruptly and you jump, feeling sensitive as you come down from your high. "think you can take me again, babylove?" he mutters, pumping himself. you gasp, nodding, "please, please. yes, need it so bad."

he smirks, easing himself into you again and making you squeal, arms wrapping around his neck. you sigh shakily as he thrusts into you, the base of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit and making you mewl. he fucks into you, hand palming your tits as you kiss him harshly.

"good. good girl." he mutters against your mouth and you nod, stomach fluttering as you already feel your second high, clenching tightly around his cock.

his cock is hitting so deep inside you that you can't breathe, your nails raking down his back. stan moves his hips against yours and your toes curl again as your high hits you like a brick wall, mouth wide open. you spasm around him, his groans sounding melodic to your ears.

you see stars as you whimper, your pussy clenching in pleasure.

"that feel good, babylove?" he mutters and you whimper, nodding as you lay your forehead on his. he stills inside you and you smile, gently pushing his chest.

"please, stan, lemme taste you. need it." you whimper, staring at him as you lay him back down on the mattress. he smirks, eyes hooded as he gathers your hair back from your face and you move down to grip his cock, glistening with your own slick.

"okay, baby." he mutters and you lick a stripe up his cock, moaning at the taste of yourself on him. you slide him into your mouth, bobbing your head and flattening your tongue on the base of his cock. he groans and praises you as you move deeper on his cock. you take as much in as you can, hand pumping around his base.

"yeah baby, just like that. i'm close." he mutters, his hip jutting upwards lightly. his words spur you on and you take him as deep as you can, his cock filling out your throat. 

your hand moves to steady yourself and his hand pushes you slightly lower, making you gag around him. your nose presses against the skin of his lower abdomen and you swallow around him, making him hiss in pleasure. "shit, y/n."

you pull almost off of him and he thrusts his hips as he cums in your mouth, making you moan as you bob slowly. you let him ride his high, loving the noises he makes and then you pull off with a pop. you look at him and see his kiss-bruised lips and rosy cheeks. his hand falls to your jaw.

"let me see it, babylove." he mutters, thumb opening your mouth as you stick your tongue out. his eyes are hooded and his lips are parted in bliss as his hand grips your mouth, staring at your tongue.

"such a good girl." he mutters with a smile as he lets go of you and you swallow enthusiastically, blossoming under the praise. "c'mere." he mutters, pulling you towards him; your legs are jelly as you snuggle up with him, your head on his shoulder and fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"that was unexpected." stan mutters into your hairline, making you nod with a grin in your exhaustion. "you okay, baby?" he asks, hand palming your ass and smoothing over your skin with his thumb lovingly.

you kiss his neck, breathing in his scent and feeling exhausted. "yes, of course. i love you." you whisper, then kissing his jaw. "i love you too, y/n/n." he whispers, kissing your lips softly and pulling the covers up over the two of you.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @toziershmozier ​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a​ @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​ @beauregard-s @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr \\

#stanley uris smut #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #losers x reader #bill denbrough smut #richie tozier smut #eddie kaspbrak smut #beverly marsh smut #bill denbrough x reader #richie tozier x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom x reader #mike hanlon x reader

[honkhonkrichard]

21 with reddie

 21. Best Friends Sibling AU

This got way longer than I thought and I’m calling it ‘Get it right the First Time’ after the billy joel song okay ‘njoy! (WC: 1600+)

“He’s adopted. We all are.” Stan said out of the blue, after dinner. 

“What?” Richie asked.

“Eddie. He’s adopted. So is Ben. Bill is too.” He said again, louder this time. 

“I-I mean.. I guessed.” Richie shrugged. “Cause they’re white and you’re-” Richie threw a hand over at Stan. “Not.” 

“Israeli.” 

“I forgot the word.” 

“clearly.”

“I-I didn’t have to know, dude, it’s not a big deal.” Richie stammered.

“You were staring at Eddie the entire meal.” Stan said loosely, eyes never leaving his book. 

Richie shifted. He was staring at Eddie. How could he not? He was… gorgeous. Big grey eyes, freckled, tan skin, wavy blond hair and the cutest little face. He had a look of perpetual surprise and annoyance, like someone just stole his parking space. 

He sat a the table quietly nearly the whole meal, watching the conversation with curiosity and every now and then, his eyes shifted over to Richie. 

Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the younger boy. He was so… pretty. The light from the dining room was framing his face this side of perfect, and his sweater was too big and it gave him the sweetest little sweaterpaws- 

“I wasn’t staring at Eddie.” 

Stan’s eyes looked up from his book, sharp and intelligent as usual. “Liar.” 

“So what If I was?” Richie said, probably too defensively. “What’re you gonna do about it?” 

“Give you my blessing.” Stan said from behind his book, light green eyes still locked on Richie. 

“I don’t think I get you, Uris.” Richie lied, because he was quite sure he did. Rich hadn’t been subtle with his idiot grin and enthusiasm with trying to talk to Eddie, who didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.

“I think you do, Tozier.” 

“Stanley?” Someone said from the door. 

Richie looked up to see Eddie clamped around the door frame, sweater paws and cute grumpy surprise in full swing. Turns out he was wearing little shorts too. Richie gulped. 

“Yes Eddie?” Stan said innocently, putting his book down.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked Richie over, the frown in his lips grew. Richie felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” 

“Sure.” Stan blinked, and stood up. He looked considerably older than his siblings, Richie decided, trying not to imagine his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “Rich, you’ll give us a minute?” 

“Course.” 

Stan left the room, and Eddie disappeared with him, leaving Richie alone with himself to think about how much Eddie licking his lips after dinner had drove him crazy. 

I gotta stop. Richie thought, rubbing his face. Gonna go half chub thinking about it too much. He decided to mindlessly fiddle with his bracelets. 

Stan strutted back into the room not longer later, sunk back down into his desk chair, handed Richie a small slip of paper and tucked his hands behind his neck, stretching out like a cat. 

“Get out.” 

Richie’s eyes widened. “Eddie doesn’t like me, does he?” 

Stan shrugged ominously. “It’s me that wants you out.” 

“Rude.” 

“You have a crush on my baby brother.” Stan said simply.

“Baby.” Richie grinned.

“Out please.” 

Richie huffed and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yeah?” Stan nodded in response, and Richie left the room, closing the door behind him (He may be a douche but he wasn’t a barbarian.)

Richie silently gazed into the hallway. All the doors were labeled. Ben’s door was closed, Bill’s was half open (Though loud horror movie noises were coming from behind it.) and what Richie assumed was Eddie’s was wide open; the quiet sound of tapping the only sound from it. 

The horror movie paused and Bill swung his door open, eyeing Richie curiously. 

“Sup man?” Richie waved. 

“W-What’re you doing?” Bill asked, voice lower and more angry than it had been at dinner. 

“Uhhhhh I just left Stan cause he kicked me out and then I got lost in thoughts. What’s up with you?” Richie admitted. 

Bill glared him up to down. Richie wasn’t sure why he was angry. They got along fine at dinner, joked about how they had no idea they both worked at the same place (Charlie’s vinyls, Bill had the day shift, Rich took the night shift) and now he was being judged. 

“If you fuck over my brother, I’ll slaughter you.” Bill promised, and then closed the door. 

“What?” Richie mumbled as the horror movie clicked back on. 

Richie made a face and went down the hall, and couldn’t stop himself from peering into Eddie’s room. 

There were lots of knick knacks everywhere, succulents, a big desk and Eddie curled up in his too big sweater, typing away on a laptop. He noticed Richie, clearly looking at him through the corner of his eye (still surprised and annoyed) and took a deep breath, trying to continue typing. 

Richie gave a him a toothy smile. Eddie did not respond. 

“So… Uh… Do you.. like… Did I- Um.” Richie tried. Words weren’t working. 

Eddie sighed and got up from his chair and then-

closed the door. 

Richie snapped some finger guns at the closed door. “Cool.” He said. “Dope I’ll uhhhhh see you later.” 

- 

That night, Richie nodded along to the music blasting through his headphones, and emptied his pockets. Wallet. Phone. Rings he forgot to put on after he washed his hands for dinner. Piece of paper Stan gave him that he never read. Pop can tab. Wait.

Richie picked up the paper and unfolded it. It had a small message written in red pen on it; it looked like it had been scribbled over relentlessly. It also had a snapchat username.

Snap: KasperEddie youre rly hot attractive and it makes me nervous but i wanna keep talking 2 to you - eddie (the small blonde one of stan’s brothers who gets really nervous around you)

Richie didn’t bother fighting the smile off his face. His day was looking up. Even though it was 11:26 at night. 

He nabbed his phone and collapsed on his bed, adding Eddie’s username, and taking a quick photo of him lying in bed and sent it to the cutie patootie. 

Tozier Boy🤙 (Trashrecords): Heyyyyyyyyy got ur message closing the door on me was rly sex c of u

The response was almost immediate. It was a photo of Eddie’s computer. Looks like he was writing an essay.

Eeeeeeee: Sorry you make me nervous I didn’t know what else to do

Richie grinned wildly and stuck his tongue out at the camera, still lying in bed

Tozier Boy🤙: ill let it slide cause youre cute as hell xox

Then he texted Stan.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:29): you BASTART whyd u kick me out if eddie liked me

And got a snap from Eddie: A photo of his keyboard:

Eeeeeeee: oh!!! 

“Holy fuck.” Richie whispered. “You are fucking adorable.” 

and he sent Eddie a photo of his ceiling saying just that.

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:35): Because Eddie told me to. Said you made him nervous. He also told Bill he liked you and if you started speaking to Eddie Bill would put 30 rounds in your chest.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:35): hot damn 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:36) Also; Ben wants you to come back over and give him “Romance Advice” because you seem “With it” 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:37): u never told me ben was a grandpa

The next image was of Eddie’s face, which was cute enough, except he had drawn blush onto himself. Eeeeeeee: thank you

Immediately following it was a black screen: omg im covered in acne and im sweaty im so sorry

Richie took a photo of him making a desperate face. 

Tozier Boy🤙: can we go out i need to get you comfortable with me holding your cute little face as soon as fucking possible also can u go call Ben a grandpa its very important

A photo of a confused bed tucked into a beanbag chair: Eeeeeeee: he said stan JSUT called him that fjkdhflkjdhfjdkhjkd

Richie smiled against his pillow, trying to breath slowly to calm himself down. Holy fuck this fucking kid. 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:45) We’ve made Ben very sad. 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:45) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:46) He told me Eddie called him a grandpa too and made the “:(” face and then told me you just “Walk with.. uhm.. swagger and stuff. [You] just seem to know what he’s doing..” Little does he know-

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:46) who’s gonna tell him im dumbass

Then Richie went back to Eddie, trying to pull himself together, took a photo of his dog. 

Tozier Boy🤙: so…. did u…… wanna …..hmmmmmmm… go out sometime.?

The next photo was of Eddie’s wide eyes, it was blurry, like he was moving as he took it. 

Eeeeeeee: !!!!!! CAN U BRING UR DOG

“God damn.” 

Tozier Boy🤙: which one I got 2 an old man corgi (Amante/Ames) and this baby (Bellissima/Belle) 

Eeeeeeee: BOTH!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM

Then Eddie sent another black screen. 

Eeeeeeee: Fr though I would like a date. Do you like ice cream?

Tozier Boy🤙: im lack toes and taller ants i love ice cream how about this saturday at noon?

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:53): Eddie’s cackling madly what the fuck did you do

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:53) lack toes and taller ants dude

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:54): Cool. Stop it.

Eeeeeeee: sure!!

Richie dropped his phone to the side and danced against his bed. Waving his hands to The Safety Dance. Dates, dogs and cute boys. Okay. 

He spent the rest of the night talking with Eddie, grinning widely the whole time. 

#honkstory #i think i change styles... 40 different times #anyway #reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanficton #thanks for the request! #mine #richie #eddie #bill #stan #ben #ask #anon #fanfic #get it right the first time #best friends sibling au

[aspirant-writer]

Together: chapter 8

Eva silently cursed Jinwon in her mind. Youngbin’s face was inches away from her own. She noticed the way his hair fell over his eyes and how he had red marks on his lips. A result of his compulsive biting and licking, she supposed. And for a moment, just for a crazy moment, she wondered what would feel like to… Fuck.

Fast as a bolt they pulled away from each other. Why did Jinwon had to tell her that yesterday? She could’ve avoided all this awkwardness if she wasn’t aware that everyone thought he was into her. Wait. Did they think she was into him as well? She turned away from him attempting to hide her flushed face. Silence reigned as she tried to find something to say. Half wishing he would leave the room, half wishing he wouldn’t.

- Uh… I didn’t bring any coffee today. - she risked glancing over her shoulder.

- It’s fine… - he let out a breath - It’s not like a deserve any.

- I agree. - she chuckled softly still embarrassed.

- I’m sorry. - he let out a weak laugh.

- It’s okay. - turning to face him.

- And you’re right… - he lifted his gaze to her.

- About what? - she knitted her brows.

- Taeyang is old enough to know what’s good for him… and I have no right to tell you who you can be with. - he licked his lips nervously.

- There’s nothing between us. - she eagerly clarified, an odd feeling twisted in her stomach.

- Oh… Good. That’s good. - what did he mean by good? Was he glad that they had nothing?

- Good? - she unintentionally blurted out loud.

- Yeah. - he looked away from her - I heard you finished your choreography…

Eva was glad he changed the subject before that conversation went any further. They started talking as she pretended to arrange things for practice, stealing glances at each other and blushing every time their eyes met.

-

Bonding time. Of fucking course. Because their members just had to have to most perfect timing at making things even weirder. And of course it was Inseong’s idea – after he noticed how awkward Eva and Youngbin had been weird around each other – to which Jinwon and Eunhye were more than happy to innocently comply with. That little shit.

- Why do you look like we forced you to watch High School Musical for the fifth time this week? - Jinwon was looking over her shoulder from the front seat with a shit-eating grin on her face.

- What are you talking about? - at this point Eva didn’t even try to hide anymore. She would rather be trapped between the two girls watching HSM than going out tonight.

- C'mon, you’re always the first to hop on the car when we have the opportunity to have fun.

- I’m just tired. - she was indeed, but it wasn’t at all why.

- As if… Just enjoy the night for God’s sake, what the hell happened between you and Youngbin for you to be acting this way?

- What?! - she sputtered in high pitched voice - What makes you think I’m like this because of him?

- Oh… Is it because of Taeyang then? Baby is giving you a hard time? - although she couldn’t see her face, Eva knew she was smiling. She knew there was nothing between her and the younger boy, but she just couldn’t waste the opportunity to tease her.

- Of course not! You know it’s not like that! - if her voice went any pitch higher she would soon be doing a falsetto.

- C'mon, cards on the table… - she suspected Jinwon was enjoying this more than she should - Do you have the hots for him?

- W-What?! - she stuttered glad there was no one to witness her blush spreading from her cheeks to her neck.

Jinwon and Eunhye laughed way too pleased with the reaction.

-

When they arrived at the bar the boys and some of the girls were sat chatting louder than normal people. Let me rephrase that. Louder than sober people. Youngbin was sitting between Jaeyoon and Zuho – which Eva silently thanked.

- Eva! Eunhye! Jinwon! - Rowoon waved his arm.

- Finally! - Jaeyoon howled slapping the table. Yup. Definitely not sober.

- Hey! - Eunhye greeted as she sat down next to Inseong.

- You’re already drunk? - Jinwon said taking a seat at the other side of the table facing the so called desert fox.

Eva didn’t say anything as she sat next to Jimwon.

- Couldn’t wait for you all night, princess. - Inseong teased with a lazy smile playing on his lips.

- Where is Chani and Hwiyoung? - Eva asked taking notice of the absence of the maknaes.

- They’re home, they’re babies! - Rowoon announced from the end of the table.

- Let’s do shots, shall we? - one of the girls suggested earning “hell yeah” yells from the boys.

- I’m not drinking tonight. - Eva stated.

- Why not? I’m driving tonight, don’t worry. - Eunhye kind-hearted said, making Eva want to slap the sweetness of her face off.

- Why not? - Rowoon asked leaning foward on the table to face her - It’ll be fun! - Eva started to list the innocent sweet people she wanted to slap that night.

- Because… I’m a light weight… - in regular situations Eva herself would laugh at that statement, she was no Captain America, but she could keep her consciousness far longer than the other girls. Jinwon bursted in laughing next to her.

- The best joke of the night has been made, not even Dawon can top that. - the other girl patted her shoulder as she pretended to wipe tears from her eyes.

- We’ll see that after two shots of soju… - Zuho blurted out from his seat with a devilish grin on his face.

- Don’t be a party pooper! - Jaeyoon turned to look at Youngbin with an affectionate expression - Even Binnie is drinking tonight!

- I’m what?! - the leader clearly wasn’t aware of that, widening his eyes.

- Waiter! Ten more shots of soju! - Inseong shouted before anyone could protest with one hand held up.

There was no way in hell, in this life and in the next three lives she would drink in the presence of Kim Inseong, Lee Jaeyoon, Kim Youngbin and Yoo Jinwon.

-

Fuck it. Eva thought as she downed the third shot of alcohol that night. She was feeling more relaxed now, but still way too aware of Youngbin’s glances and pink cheeks. Suddenly she had the crazy urge to pinch them.

- Eva! - Rowoon was hovering over her, for some reason he had been standing up for the past half an hour - Why did you look so pissed when you arrived? - he caressed her shoulder in a clumsy way, almost leaning on her to keep him from falling.

Eva wished no one would notice the Rowoon’s drunk yowling, but everyone at the tabled flipped their heads to face her causing her face to flush. This God damn alcohol.

- Yeah, Eva, tell us. - Jaeyoon leaned his elbow on the table resting his face on his hand.

- Uh… I… I was just tired. - she stuttered playing with her cups.

- Bullshit! - Jinwon giggled - This girl never gets tired, she’s tireless! - Eva reminded herself what a bad combination her friend and alcohol was.

Rowoon giggled beside her covering his mouth while blushing. Why was he giggling? Oh my God.

It took her two seconds to realise why. Inseong’s and Jaeyoon’s teasing smirks, Zuho spitting his drink at the end of the table, Taeyang’s wide eyes, the girls’ laughs as they realised themselves the suggestive tone in Rowoon’s giggle. The alcohol in her blood worked his way up as did what it felt like her whole circulation. For some sick twisted reason she glanced at Youngbin who was as red as someone could possibly be with his mouth hanging slightly open and her mind went straight to the gutter.

- Excuse me. - she stood up not knowing how to deal with her own mind and body at the moment.

- I’m sorry! - Rowoon pulled her into his tight grip laughing, he surely had had his fair share of alcohol that night.

- I just need to go to the bathroom. - she had to escape that situation.

Eva sat on the toilet trying to get herself together. Why was her face so hot? Even better, why was her body so hot? Why she had such inappropriate thoughts on her mind? Better, why she had inappropriate thoughts about Youngbin? She was no longer thinking about his cheeks, but how his lips looked especially red after a few drinks. Girl, you need to stop this. She slid her fingers through her hair. The dancer left the bathroom trying her best to look composed.

- Wait… Where’s Youngbin? - Dawon asked as she sat down again.

- What? - she looked around the table to notice that he wasn’t there. Her face flushed again immediately.

- He left to the bathroom too, we thought you were… - one of the girls began.

- What?! No! - she denied blushing even harder.

Eva wondered if something would’ve happened if they bumped into each other, deep down disappointed for missing the opportunity. She imagined what it would feel like to have him shove her on the bathroom counter and press his body against her own. What the hell? she pressed a palm to her face.

—

author’s note: i rly rly rly wanna know what you guys think about it so far! i hope you liked it, reblog/like you did! ♡

#togetherchapter8 #sf9 #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 fanfic #sf9 fanfiction #youngbin #youngbin imagines #youngbin scenarios #youngbin fanfic #youngbin fanfiction #youngbin sf9

[soulwillower]

circle the drain • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader angst)

requested: richie comforting u when ur sad🥺    +     maybe fighting with your parents really bad so richie takes you on a drive and just soothes you and soft fluffy kisses

warnings: fighting with family, swearing i think, angst, comfort n fluff, richie being the best boyfriend!! and as always this is unedited

[title taken from circle the drain by soccer mommy, i listened to it when writing this but it doesn't rly have to do w the fic lol]

i hope everybody is feeling okay and knows that they are loved <3

[losers + reader are aged up 16+ in this.]

1.6k words

♡

your hands are shaking slightly as you send the text, setting your phone down and taking a shuttering breath. your head is swimming and the pit in your stomach makes you feel like you might get sick, the tears that had previously escaped your eyes fall onto your floor or dry up, salty and unforgiving on your cheeks.

he texts back only two minutes later, telling you he's on his way and to hold tight. that makes you huff out a quick sob, sniffling and running a hand through your hair as you try to gather yourself. 

you can still hear your parents' words in your mind, yelling and hissing some of the most hurtful things you've ever heard. the words cut you like tiny knives and before you even take a gasping breath, your chest feels like it's ablaze, torched by the vicious argument you and your parents had just had.

richie’s coming. a weight lifts off your chest and you start to breathe. 

you pull one of his hoodies off a hanger in your closet and sloppily pull it over yourself, immediately breathing in his scent and biting your lip, squeezing your eyes shut and hugging yourself. it smells like him. it smells like aftershave, his musk, three-day-old twizzlers and those life saver mints he always crunches on much to your dismay.

and your phone lights up a few moments later, richie's text telling you he's just outside your window.

you climb out your window and see his tall figure waiting for you on the ground, his face soft as he watches you, eyes brimming full with love and concern.

 you stumble to the ground with a sniffle and he wordlessly pulls you into him, engulfing you and taking you by surprise. he kisses you sweetly, thumb holding your chin lightly to tilt your head back. 

you kiss back softly, hoping he doesn’t taste the saltiness on your lips. if he does, he doesn't care as he pulls away, pecking you once and then twice again softly.  "let's go for a drive, yeah?" he says softly as he wraps you safely under his arm and guides you to his car.

you hold hands the whole drive towards the lake, your feet on his dash and your head propped against his window. he doesn't push you - you could tell it was hurting him to see you so upset but you knew if you spoke now all that would come out would be screams and sobs, neither directed at him. 

you know him; you know that he wants you to let it all out, and he's more than willing to take every single blow and hit if it meant that you could feel even the slightest bit better. 

you could never let him hurt like that, though. he’s too important, he’s too caring. you love him way too much to want him to feel the way you do right now. 

as he pulls up to the lake, only twenty or fifteen feet from the cliff, his hand on yours holding you down to earth. you're so thankful for his hand because you feel your mind trying to defy gravity, your brain longing to scour the universe for the answers to questions you never want to have to ask.

and he turns to you as he shuts off the ignition and you look into his eyes, finding love, concern, and wonder, but not pity. never pity. your heart swells.

he undoes his seatbelt as you do and he turns to reach something in the back so you admire his curls, his milky pale skin sparkling under the bright moonlight. how did you get so lucky?

he turns back and shrugs nervously as you look at him with wide eyes and an interested look.

"here's some gatorade. and flowers that i found on my way out of the house... they’re not very pretty, fuck. and... um, i tried cutting up an apple for you. but i almost cut myself, so..." he mumbles, cheeks slightly pink as he shows you a handful of daffodils, dirt on the bottom of them. you tear up at the sight of him, holding the flowers to you, other hand holding a ziplock with a terribly butchered apple, half of it in slices and half of it a complete nightmare of pulp. 

you smile softly as your heart pangs and goes fuzzy - he's the most incredible person ever. you take the flowers, a tear falling down your cheek. he’s so thoughtful. you then take the bag and set it on your lap, a grin on your face even though your cheeks feel puffy.

"thank you, richie. that's- you don't know how much that means." you say, biting your lip as one tear escapes your eye. nobody else would think to make sure you have something to eat, nobody takes care of you like he does. not like richie. he smiles at you sheepishly, unknowing of how one of a kind he is. "well 's just flowers and an apple, sugar."

you don't say anything, instead cupping his jaw and leaning across the console to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. he kisses back tenderly, hands on you and reminding you of how loved you are.

he leads you out of the car, grabbing two blankets and setting one down for the two of you to lay on, overlooking the beautiful lake, looking onyx and mysterious as it reflects the heavens.

you look at your boyfriend.

richie makes you feel like more than just a fading memory lost in someone's life. he reminds you that life won’t always fade to gray, that there are bright colors.

there are gasps of laughter, fierce kisses, late nights spent running wild with a pack of friends who know you better than you know yourself. there’s belting out songs at the top of your lungs and there’s whispering true secrets and admissions of affection. 

and he reminds you that there are sometimes nights like this - nights that start terribly with screaming and yelling in the halls and rooms of your own home, the place where you were always supposed to feel safe. nights that start like that, but always end with his arms around you and his lips pressing lovingly onto your hairline.

richie reminds you that you are more than your parent's child, you aren't defined by your relationship (or lack thereof) with them, you're more than just a footprint in the snow. 

richie tozier gives you so much, but most importantly, he listens to you.

he's listening now, as he's listened for the last hour, eyes wide and almost unblinking with focus as he absently rubs your shoulder, both of your heads leant against the laid-down blanket that barely levels the rocky ground below you. he's nodding as you express the feelings you have towards your parents and the fight you'd just had. 

you tell him how alone you feel sometimes, almost like a ghost floating through empty halls, and how other times you feel like you can't escape the scrutinizing eyes of those who are supposed to love you unconditionally. you tell him that you feel like sometimes you don't belong in your own family.

he holds you tightly, hands rubbing your back as he breathes your scent in. "y/n, you're never going to be alone. for as long as you'll have me." he says into your hair, "we're almost there, angel. we'll be out of here soon."

you nod, believing him. you'll be wherever richie is, where you belong.

"you are nobody's burden, sugar. you're our family. i love you. bev loves you, eds loves you, stan loves you, ben loves you, mike loves you, bill loves you. to the ends of the earth and forever."

something in his words is so honest, raw, and sudden that you can't help but kiss him. his palm flattens over your waist to hold you tightly as you pull him forwards with your neck, fully embracing each other, not a single part of your bodies left untouched. he tastes like the gatorade you shared, and you suppose you taste like the apple he watched you eat.

as you pull away, you whisper, "thank you, rich. i love you." you caress his cheek and he beams at your words, leaning into your touch.

he looks at you from behind his glasses, "stay the night with me? i'll get you back before they notice." he mumbles, kissing your hairline and knowing immediately what your anxieties were about staying with him. 

"if you'd rather, i can take you back. just wanna make sure you sleep well tonight and get something in that tummy tomorrow morning." he adds, squeezing your side softly.

your body fills with warmth at his words and you're overwhelmed again, this time by the sheer love that he's demonstrating. it makes you whimper, a blushing and grateful smile on your lips as you look up at him, cupping his jaw. 

a slight breeze jostle his curls to and fro and you brush them back lightly. "can i come with you?" you whisper meekly, thumb rubbing over his jaw. he smiles softly, nodding and kissing your forehead softly. it gives you butterflies.

"of course you can, sweetheart." he says it as he pulls away from you, rubbing your shoulder softly. "let's get to bed, hm?" he asks quietly, standing to his full height and pulling you up to him, catching your lips in a sweet kiss as you stand fully.

the cold air outside of richie's room seeps in through the poorly-sealed window panes, but richie's hand in yours and maggie's homemade quilt around your shoulders keep you warm as he pulls out sweats for you to pull on. you give him a grateful smile and he watches with fond eyes as you change, wearing his sweater and sweats. "i love you." he says, apropos of nothing.

even after all this time, his sudden affirmation makes your cheeks heat up and your chest swirl with affection. he pulls you gently into him, tucking both of you under his covers and turning off his lamp. you burrow yourself so your face is in the crook of his neck as his hands circle your torso, holding you impossibly close.

"why don't you go to sleep, sugar?" he says softly, fingers twirling softly through your hair. you nod against his shirt, the fabric feeling surprisingly soft and calming, but you tiredly suppose that it's because it's on richie and anything about him is calming to you.

"i love you, richie." you mumble tiredly, heart aching just a little less now that you're with him. 

"i love you more, y/n." he says into your hair.

#richie tozier x reader #i hope this was ok #losers x reader