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#He kinda looks like a loser How did he get someone like her
mayabread · 5 months
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You're not going to believe who I Found at the bus
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joontroverted · 1 month
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of course other women want your boyfriend
pairing: nanami kento x reader
tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.
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"your dad's kinda hot."
the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.
you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.
no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.
and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.
"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.
her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"
you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.
"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"
"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.
"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.
that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.
"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"
"there you are, sweetheart."
kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.
nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.
almost.
"ken!" you breathe.
"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"
"hey!"
his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"
"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.
"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"
"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.
"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.
"sweetheart, i think- "
you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.
"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"
"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.
"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."
she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.
kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.
"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"
aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.
you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.
"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."
his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.
deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.
kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.
"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."
warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.
"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.
aiko!
you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"
aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.
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DO NOT REPOST
yay first fic!!!
likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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Grill the Grid
Guys, I'm sorry this is so short. I've had a bout of writers block but still wanted to get another chapter out. I will be going back to working on the regular chapters soon! But enjoy this take on Grill the Grid!
Like always - comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love :D
Key for this chapter: regular text - just normal speaking bold - words on the flip boards italics - scene change bold italics - the narrator lady
Episode One: Radio Show 
A quick snapshot of each driver shows up before the opening title of “Grill the Grid” crosses the screen. 
You quickly showed up and clapped your hands. 
“Welcome ladies and gents to another season of Drive to Survive.” You showed a cheeky smile as you winked to the camera. 
“Can you please state your name and what team you drive for?” 
You sighed as you thought. “Christian is going to kill me if I can't remember all of it.” You looked back at the camera. “My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula One Team.” 
“That is correct.” 
Your eyes widened as you started to laugh. “I didn’t think I’d get that.” 
The lady behind the camera smiled. “Max didn’t get the entire thing.” 
You stared at the camera like you were on the office before turning to someone off camera to the side. “Do I get a point for that?” 
The video now cut to Max. 
Max had his hands on his side, head down before he looked back up. 
He had a nervous smile as he tried to think. “Yeah, I don’t know. Red Bull Racing?” He shrugged as multiple people around him laughed. 
“It’s actual Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “How is anyone supposed to remember that?” 
“Y/n did.” 
“Of course.” 
Words flashed on the screen signaling to viewers the actual start of the episode. Multiple familiar faces showed as they all stood next to a board with multiple flaps of paper. 
Lando smugly looked at the title and then to the camera. “I got this in the bag.” 
“How do you think you’ll do?” 
Oscar was now on screen. “Uhhhhh.” He didn’t have time to answer.
“I think I’ll do ok. I’m not too familiar with other team’s radios, but I can try?” A red-clad Monegasque questioned himself. 
The drivers all flipped the first page.
--He better get me more stroopwaffles after that. Asshole--  
You flipped the first page and barely glanced at it before answering. “Lando.” 
“Lando.” Max also flipped.
Oscar, Daniel, Charles, and Carlos at once, “Lando.” 
Lando just stared into the camera. “Me?” 
You smiled back at the camera. “This was at Zandvoort right? After Max kinda bumped him.” 
“He pushed me off the track! Bumped is an understatement.” Lando now flipped the next page and leaned back to laugh. “Y/n.” 
--Speed. I am Speed. One winner, 19 losers. I eat losers for breakfast--
Max, once again, barely glanced before answering, “Y/n.” 
Lance looked around trying to get a hint. He couldn’t find one. “Logan? I know he’s watched the Cars movies.” 
Logan laughed as well before shaking his head. “Y/n.” 
“Me.” Your face flushed red. “Truthfully, I didn’t know the radio was on.” 
Oscar made a noise as he thought. “I want to say Logan because he recently watched that. But my heart wants to say Y/n.” 
“Is that your final answer.” 
“Yes.” 
“That’s correct.” 
Fernando, Carlos, Daniel, and Alex flipped the page. “Y/n.” 
--This is what she gets for telling me to use my mirrors. AHA! Does she even have her driver’s license?-- 
“Aha! This is Daniel.” You stood looking at the next page. “So in quali, he almost hit me in turn four during my flying lap and I told him to use his mirrors in the race. Well, he overtook me in the first lap and I fell behind.” Your smile disappeared as you looked right into the camera. “And yes, I have my driver’s license.” 
Daniel almost fell to his knees as he read the next one. His gummy smile almost took over his face. “This is me to Y/n.” 
Max just looked lost. “Who said this?” 
“Daniel.”
“Oh.”  
 
Episode Two: Champions Part 2
“So do you know what’s next?” 
You looked confused as you looked around the empty space. “Well there’s no board here?” 
Charles shrugged. “It could be anything. I certainly hope that this season we won’t have to list the champions in some order again.” 
Max looked around with a confused look. “Again?” 
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Man I knew I should have gone back and actually memorized them.” 
“There’s no way someone is getting all of them. Sebastian is gone.” Lando shrugged. 
It was now back to Charles who looked a bit more pale. A loud beep sounded on a views screen as he looked down. 
You once again clapped. “I knew all those Wikipedia pages would come in handy. Are we starting from newest to oldest or oldest to newest.” 
“Any way you want.” 
You looked up in thought as you started to list. “Ok. Max was in 2023, 2022, 2021. Then Lewis in 2020, 2019, 1028, 2017. Nico won in 2016 then it was back to Lewis in ’15 and ’14. Seb won from 2013 to 2010…” 
Max sighed before he started. “Uh, me in 2023 to 2021. Then Lewis until 2014.” 
“Incorrect. Nico won in 2016.” 
Max hummed. “Uh, Nico in ’16. Then Lewis to ’14. I know Seb won in 2013.” 
It was back to you. “And then Michael Schumacher again in 2010, which was his first with Ferrari. Then it was Hakkinen in ’99 and ’98. Uh, Villeneuve in 1997 who was preceded by Hill in 1996. Then it was back to Schumi in ’95 and ’94.”
Lando looked lost. 
Charles was still pale but he tried. “It was Max, Lewis, Nico, Lewis again. Then Seb then Lewis again?” 
“You’re forgetting another Mercedes Driver.” 
Charles looked even more confused. “Uh.” 
“Jensen Button in 2009.” 
“He was in Mercedes?” Charles just ended up walking off. 
Back to you. “Mario Andretti was the last American in 1978. Niki and Hunt danced around from 1977 to 1976. Then it was Fittipaldi, Stewart, Fittpaldi, Stewart, Rindt, Stewart respectfully in 1975, 1974, 1973, 1972, 1971, and 1970.” 
Oscar looked as if he was having a stroke. 
Logan ran a hand down his face. “I only know Andretti in 1978 and then Phil Hill in 1961. You know. Go America!” 
Fernando tried but couldn’t get past the nineties. Yet he had a smile on his face. “Y/n got all of these right, correct?” 
“She was the only one.”  
“Shut up, no she wasn’t.” Lando didn’t believe it. 
“Of course she did.” Max could only chuckle. “She would brag and brag about this in the plane.” 
“And then Ascari in 1952, then Fangio in 1951, and finally Farina in 1950!” You had a proud look on your face. “I knew I could do it. Did I miss any?” 
“Nope.”  
Episode Three: Guess These Headlights 
Charles, who had now recovered from his bout of PTSD, suddenly looked excited. “Now here is something I can do.” 
“Are you a car guy?” 
“Definitely.” Carlos responded with a smug look. “I grew up around cars.” 
“I mean. I know my McLarens?” Oscar questioned. “This is going to be hard.” 
Lando looked ready. “Let’s get this going.” 
You looked determined. “Bring it on.” You flipped the first page. “Ah. That’s a classic. A Ferrari F40.” You turned back to the camera. “If I didn’t have my Porsches, I would have bought an F40.” A far away thoughtful look crossed your face. “Maybe I’ll still get one. I’ll ask Charles. He can get me one.”  
Charles quickly answered “F40” and then flipped. “Ah. This is McLaren P1.” 
“McLaren P1,” Oscar answered. “The logo is in the headlights. Pretty helpful.” 
Daniel flipped the next one and stood back, hands on his hips. “I know Max has this car. But I can’t remember the name.” 
Lance finally looked as though he knew what it was. “This is the Aston Valkyrie.” 
Fernando also guessed it correctly. “Aston Valkyrie.” 
Next, Carlos easily got the next one. “La Ferrari. I wanted one.” 
“Did you get one.” 
Carlos nodded his head before answering. “No.” 
Max flipped through the pages very quickly. “Ah! I know this one. Y/n has two of these. It’s the Porsche 9-11’s.” 
“Y/n’s Porsche. The 9-11 model,” Alex responded. 
“I see these in my garage since Y/n’s apartment didn’t come with one, so she puts her’s in mine. It’s the Porsche 9-11,” Logan had a happy smile as he knew one. The next one, he didn’t know. 
“Not a clue.” Charles, Oscar, and Daniel all said as they flipped. 
Max took a minute to look at the X looking headlights. He hummed. “Y/n was just showing me a TikTok with this car. Says she wants one someday.” 
You had a giant grin on your face as you looked at the headlights. 
“Do you know what this car is?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Of course I know. It’s the 3 million dollar Ferrari V12 Engine Apollo Project Evo. There are currently 10 of them only in the world, and they are all owned.” 
“Do you have one of them?” 
You only smirked as you looked into the camera.
Max still stood next to his board, eyes to the sky as he really thought. His eyebrows raised as he remembered the answer. “This is like...the Apollo E car?” 
“That is correct. Now, does Y/n own one of these? She didn’t give us an answer.” 
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh. No comment?”   
  
Episode Four: Random Skills
“Ok. For this challenge you have to guess what driver has this skill.” 
“Easy.” Came from Lando. 
You looked around confused. “I don’t think I have any skills.” 
“Do I even have a skill for them to use?” Lewis questioned himself. 
“First skill. Which driver is known for playing the piano.” 
“Sharl,” you smirked. “Easy.” 
“Charles.” Lance, Fernando, and Daniel all answered. 
“Me.” The Monegasque had a smile on his face. 
Oscar looked up. “Is it Y/n? She looks like she can play the piano.” 
“He said that? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” You shrugged. 
“Which drivers claims to be able to hit a hole in one at the Monte Carlo Golf Course.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “I know Lando has claimed, but I’m going to say Carlos.” 
Carlos looked lost. “Me? I don’t know if I’ve said that though. Maybe Lando?” 
Logan answered, “Lando?” 
Lando also looked lost. “Me?” 
“No.” 
“Who is it then?” You questioned. Lando and Carlos had been your guess. 
“It is Pierre Gasly.” 
Lando huffed. “Get out of here.” 
The man in question had a guilty smile. “I forgot I said that. Let’s say it’s still true.”
You looked eager to get on with the game. You wanted to win that trophy. 
“Which driver has set a drive time around the Daytona International Speedway at 1 minute and 40 seconds. Which is only 8 seconds slower than the lap record.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know I would get on here for this category. It’s me right?” 
“Correct, Logan.”  
You took a little while to guess. “I’m gonna say Logan. Sounds like a very American thing to do at Daytona. And his brother drove for NASCAR right?” 
“Correct.”
Your fist pumped the air. 
Oscar looked elated at this question. “It’s Logan. I was there when he did it.” A big smile crossed his face. 
Lance looked around in thought. “Uhhhhh. Lando? I don’t know.” 
Lando also looked happy, as he seemed to know the answer. “It’s Logan right? Yeah, Logan. Final answer.” 
“Are there any geography questions this season, or…” Max drew out the last syllable as he laughed with the others. He suddenly went cold stare. “I’m being serious.” 
“Which driver knows how to moon walk?” 
Fernando squinted his eyes as he thought before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of the young ones right? Yuki?” 
Yuki was also as lost as Fernando. “I wish it was me. Maybe Lando? He DJ’s right?” 
“It’s not Lando. But it is a younger driver.” 
“I should know this after she made me play Just Dance for three hours one time. It’s Y/n.” Logan looked put off at his mention of the dance off. 
Oscar also looked bored as he also brought it up. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. I threw Just Dance out after she left. No more.” 
Max rubbed his face. “She plays it with P whenever she comes over. They play the same one over and over again. Y/n.” 
Charles had a far off look, like one of an older man who suddenly was hit with PTSD from war. He whispered, “We don’t mention moonwalk. Not after her and Arthur…” He never finished as he walked off again. 
You had a shit-eating grin on your face. “Me! And I tried to teach it to Oscar, Lando, Logan, Max, Charles, Arthur…” You just seemed to keep going and going. They finally had to stop you before you kept going on about the Just Dance discography. 
Bloopers
You stood in front of the camera with one of the que things that snap. “And action! Do you even say that anymore? And I thought this was an actual set. I might have cried when I saw the green screen.” 
Beep 
The camera showed Max creeping in as you continued listing all of the champions in order. He looked over at the camera like was on the office. “Is she still going?” 
Beep
Logan kept touching his hair and the makeup lady would slap his hands away to fix it. “NASCAR drivers don’t have to go through this. I bet they don’t have to list all the freaking Formula 1 champions in order.” He leaned in and made a gesture. “See. All they have to do is kiss a brick and they get one when they win.” 
Beep 
Oscar smiled as he looked around, honestly excited to get this over with. “I think I’m finally ready for redemption. This should be easy.” 
The camera cut to him after ever he finished filming. “I take it back. That was not easy. You guys really need to find better questions.” 
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ddejavvu · 8 days
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MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed
"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"
Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.
"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"
Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.
"Actually, she's-"
"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.
"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.
"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.
Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.
"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."
"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.
"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"
Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.
"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."
Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.
"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.
"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."
Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.
Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"
Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.
"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"
"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."
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l13 · 9 months
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I just saw someone ask if you write for MHA. And girlie. Holy fuck. All Might, like the man is built as fuck but also kind of a loser. If you get my drift? Like yeah he’s this awesome hero, but the man is old, alone and kinda a dork.
I wanna be the young thing that saunters into his life and rides him until he’s begging me to stop. Wanna take lunch to him at work, all cute and lovey and wifey, then lean in to let him know I’m not wearing panties but I do have a vibrator. That man would explode, in more ways than one, and be a constant blushing awkward mess.
Thoughts?
this is exactly how i picture all might as well! we can share him and then he could have 2 controversial young gfs<33
so sorry that this doesn't contain any actual smut tho:(
CW: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!!, f!reader, age gap, lazy ass writing, not proofread
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He's a dilf but he's the touch-starved kind, the 'i haven't fucked someone in a long time' type, the one that you'll make a pussy enthusiast in just a couple of weeks, type<3
'cause at first he'd be reluctant y'know. Not only were you younger, but you were soooo out of his league (or so he thought). The prettiest thing he'd ever seen, really. And when you bluntly told him that you're interested in getting to know him better, he'd frowned a bit. He wanted to outright laugh at your words, but he didn't want to seem rude.
Poor man thought you were making fun of him so he tried to let you down gently, saying smth like “If it weren't for the age gap..” “You'll find someone younger, someone better, I'm sure.” and you'd faltered, apologizing for bothering him and scurrying off, embarrassed that you'd misjudged the situation
but then you kept running into him at your favorite coffee shop, politely engaging in small talk every time, and one day you didn't fail to notice how his gaze on you, lingered. How his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, down to your cleavage, and back up again. It was so quick that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you but then he cleared his throat hurriedly, his adam's apple bobbing with the movement, and you knew.
“Say.. y'wanna sit with me for a bit?" second time's the charm right?
You watched as his eyes widened slightly, “Well, I was- I'm actually busy right now-”
“Just twenty minutes, I promise,”
And Yagi quickly realized that he couldn't say no to you. So he gave a small nod, his eyes crinkling as he smiled softly, “Twenty minutes,”
He never in his life thought he was going to be put in this situation, and looking back at it, he'd never be able to prevent it anyway. Because just after 10 minutes of you sitting and laughing at his stupid jokes, he'd felt a nudge just under his knee, and he'd pulled his leg back instinctively, not being able to drag his gaze from the way your eyebrows furrowed prettily, “What's wrong?”
He shook his head, chuckling at his pathetic behavior “It's-” but then as he glanced under the table he saw your bare foot, save for the white stockings you wore, inching closer to his shin, and he snapped his eyes to yours, a shiver running down his back when he saw the look in your eyes- the mock concern masking the devilish glint quite well. “..nothing. Nothing's wrong I-” he trailed off as he felt your foot trailing up higher and Jesus Christ- when did you even take off your shoes?
Yagi let out another strained chuckle, looking around the small cafe, when he felt your foot on his plush thigh, making him jump. His hand shot down to grasp your foot reflexively, his jaw clenching as he locked eyes with you again. “What do you think you're doing?” he'd leaned a bit over the table to whisper to you, and you did the same, your head lazily resting on the palm of your hand as you pouted, “Let go of me, Yagi.”
He did as he was told immediately, and a part of him felt guilty, even when he'd done nothing wrong. “I'm sorry- but I just-”
Of course you shouldn't have let her go, you idiot. Did you think she was just gonna stop? He chides himself in his head because he can't do anything else. Because the foot that's pressing against his hard cock is clouding his judgement and he can't think of something to do.
A grunt escapes him when you rub him slightly over his dress pants, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, eyes still locked on yours. “You planned this didn't you?” you smile at that, your pretty lips closing around the straw of your drink as you take a sip, your foot pressing against his bulge harder.
Your gaze was trained on his hand, the one that was clutching the table with all its might (haha, get it), and you followed along the veins of his hand, up his forearms, to the point where they got lost under his shirt, the sleeves rolled up at his elbows. You licked your lips as you ran your eyes over his arms next, eyes hooded at the way the material of his shirt hugged his taut muscles. Finally, you looked up at him, enjoying the droplet of sweat falling down his temple, “I don't know what you mean,”
And Yagi knew he was fucked.
 ‹𝟹
Months later, you saunter over to Yagi’s office, pretty summer dress swirling as you walk, Yagi's lunch packed with a cute little bow on top, in hand. You knock on his door, not waiting for him to answer before you’re pulling the door open, walking in and pushing it closed behind you. Yagi’s eyes snap to your figure, one eyebrow raised, his gaze immediately softening once he realizes who you are, “Princess? What are you doing here?” 
You grin at him giddily, walking closer to his desk as he takes off his glasses running a hand down his face before he’s looking up at you with tired eyes- the corner of his lips quirking up despite his exhaustion.
“Brought you lunch-” his heart swells in his chest, pushing his chair back as he stands and walks around the table to stand in front of you, bending down to give your lips the softest kiss, his hand caressing your cheek. “You didn’t have to, pretty.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I missed you so much Toshi,” he coos down at your words and plants another kiss on your forehead, “I know sweetie, ‘m gonna be home in a few hours, yeah? Then I’ll be all yours,”
“But I need you, now.” you pout, hands coming up to rest on his pecs, fingers sliding under the collar of his shirt to play with his blond chest hairs, and you bite back a smile at the tiniest shiver he gives. “Sweetheart..” before he can say anything else you’re clutching his hand and pulling him with you, pushing him back to sit on his office chair again, and he’s looking up at you, bewildered.
Then you’re trailing a hand from your thigh up to your belly, only you’re slowly lifting your dress as you go. His jaw goes slack once his eyes are met with your bare, glistening pussy, his neck turning red. You whimper, circling your hips around nothing, dropping your other hand to rub two fingers aaall over your folds, gathering up your slick on your fingers. “See? Told you I need you,”
And Yagi can't complain when you push your wet fingers in his mouth, his moan getting muffled as he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his already hard cock twitching at the sight of you, all pretty and ready for him<3
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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eldritch-thrumming · 1 month
Text
is it casual now?, pt. two
pt. one
my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.
he both loves and hates that she does.
steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.
so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.
“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.
“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.
“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.
steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”
“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”
her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”
“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”
robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”
~*~
robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.
but eddie still isn’t there.
~*~
it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.
steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.
he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.
so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.
but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.
“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.
“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“
steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.
steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.
“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.
they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.
“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.
“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.
“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.
eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.
“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”
eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.
“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”
steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.
“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.
eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.
steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.
~*~
it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.
he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.
“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.
“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.
“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”
steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.
eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”
“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.
eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”
“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.
“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”
somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.
“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.
eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”
“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?
“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.
“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.
“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”
and all steve can do is nod.
~*~
the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.
“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”
“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.
“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.
“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”
“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.
“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”
“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”
steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.
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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months
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hiihihi can i request prompt 55 for megumi?? maybe reader texted him late at night and wanted him to sneak into her dorm after curfew? (maybeee gojo caught them a lil while later 👀 only doing rounds cause he was nosy and wanted to snoop lmaoo)
I’m an absolute sucker for Megumi, thank you for this request! It’s a little goofy, kinda got inspired by my dress up darling xD Hope you like it though, please let me know :) 55. "I'm tired. Don't make me angry."
Caught
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Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Megumi knows it isn't allowed to visit you after curfew late at night, but the temptation is just too great. However, it is percisely this night that Gojo noticed the both of you and finds you in a rather unfavorable situation.
Warnings: language, mentions of smut, it's getting a little heated
Yo loser, you still awake? 🖤
Stop calling me that, yes I am (y/n).
Wanna come over? I’m bored as hell :(
Not my problem, remember curfew? I don’t want to get into trouble because of you.
You sign at your screen and roll your eyes in annoyance. God, Megumi is such a pain in the ass when it comes to following these stupid rules. You are mature enough to decide on your own when and who you want to visit. And how would they know? All the teachers are sound asleep anyway. Not even Gojo has the nerve to stay alert all night just to make sure that Megumi won’t visit you, right?
You just have to be silent. Shouldn’t be hard for you.
I’m tired. Don’t make me angry (y/n).
Pleeeaaaassseee Megumi, I’m begging on my knees :(
Megumi throws his phone to the side in irritation. Why do you always have to bother him this late at night? Of course his heart beats out of his chest just thinking about seeing you alone, but why does meeting you always bond with getting into trouble?
Still…maybe he is even able to hold you in his arms until the sun begins to rise. He’d ditch sleep a hundred times if it meant that you are by his side. As noiselessly as possible he sits up in bed and glances at Yuji who is breathing peacefully and is keeping his eyes closed. Megumi stands up, puts on his slippers and walks to the door. The girl’s corridor is down the hall, quite a stretch that cannot be explained if someone catches him there.  Why does he keep doing things like this for you?
It doesn’t matter. As if in trance his feet carry him to your door. His knuckles brush gently against the hard wood, eyes swaying around in alert.
Your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of him in the dim moonlight. He really came! With a wide grin on your face you grab his hand and pull him into your room.
“Megumi!”, you cry out in excitement.
“Shh, you want everyone to know that I’m here? Maki is next door”, he hisses.
A glimpse of you is enough to make Megumi blush in an instant. You are covered by nothing but an oversized Shirt, your butt just barely covered by it. Are you only wearing underwear underneath this? He always knew and appreciated that you are comfortable around him, but the sight of your naked thighs does thinks to him and lets his mind wander. Why do you have to be so ridiculously attractive anyway?
“Come on, Maki sleeps like a rock and who cares about you being here anyway? Except for me, of course. You can’t even imagine how happy it makes me that you really came”, you shyly admit.
He looks as breathtaking as usual, maybe even better with his loose black sweater that shows off his tight muscles underneath so perfectly. Nothing ever happened between Megumi and you. You’re just friends that meet up late at night and lay in your bed until the sun rises, talking about everything and everyone. Megumi never touched you, never cuddled you, never intertwined his hand with yours. But oh how much you wished he did. Since you joined Jujutsu High alongside him, your feelings for the black-haired boy grew day by day. Now you can’t imagine life without him, your heart starts to dance whenever you see him.
“You know, I just really like your company”, he responses, scratching his head awkwardly and avoiding your gaze.
Your heart skips a beat, face lighting up by the sound of his sweet words. It is rare that he says such things to you, Megumi isn’t the vocal one anyway. Actually you are, but not when it comes to him. He is the only person that lets your outspoken and confident self get soft and all flustered, not even brave enough to give him a hug.
“Wanna lay in bed? You said you were tired.”
Not anymore. Your sight alone is better than the best sleep and wakes him up every time.     
“Sure.”
His gaze brushes over your moonlit features as you climb into bed, sliding against the wall and invitingly padding the sheets next to you. It makes him nervous to lay this close to you, knowing that you wear nothing but a shirt and that you are absolutely breathtaking beautiful. His heart almost beats out of his chest when the mattress gives in under his weight and your bare arm brushes against his skin while he lays down. Everything smells so good. He can immediately scent your sweet shampoo on the cushion under his head as well as the delicious fragrance of your body spray that hangs in the air and tingles in his nose. But the sight of your glistering eyes is what sends him over the edge.
“God, you are so beautiful.”
The words escape his mouth faster than he can react, hands covering his mouth in shock. Did he really just say that? Fuck, you must think he is really awkward, that all he thinks about are your good looks.
“I-I mean…You’re pretty smart as well…”, he stutters, face flushing immediately.
A cute little giggle escapes your mouth, cheeks heating up at his sudden outburst. Here and there a few compliments slipped out of Megumi’s mouth and left him all flustered. You adored the blush creeping up his face and the way he always scratched his head awkwardly in silence.
“(y/n), you need to be a little quieter. I don’t want Gojo-sensei to find us here”, he whispers, gaze creeping to the door.
“Don’t worry, he never did!”
Little did you know that Satoru just woke up from his light sleep and your giggling that echoed through the otherwise quiet halls of the dorms. He straightens himself and puts on a pair of sweatpants, a yawn escaping his lips. Why the hell is someone awake this late at night? Putting on his slippers, he leaves his room and roams around.
Another giggle. His eyes narrow. This sounds like you. Why are you giggling? Maybe someone is with you. Gojo doesn’t waste any more time and traces into the girl’s corridor. The ruffling, giggles and muffled voices grow louder as he moves towards your door. That other voice, it sounds so familiar…His eyes widen in surprise. Is that Megumi? What are you doing in there, after curfew alone in your room late at night? Fuck, he didn’t prepare Megumi for any for this. Does he know how this works? Is he using protection? Gojo’s pace picks up in an instant, panic mode completely activated.
“(y/n) and Megumi-chan, I know you’re in there. Get dressed within the next ten seconds”, he announces.
Your eyes widen in pure horror. Fuck, Gojo is here. Why the hell is Gojo here? He never caught you over the span of many months. Why today? Why when Megumi’s arms are this close to you, ready to hug you tightly?
“I told you!”, Megumi hisses through gritted teeth, panic written on his face.
“I’ll lock the door”, you proclaim with determination and lift yourself up.
This will give Megumi enough time to hide somewhere. You frantically swing your leg over his body, almost losing balance on the soft mattress underneath and your body tangled within the blanket in your rush.
“Fuck”, you mutter and search for hold, hands landing on his chest.
Instinctively, his hands grab your hips tightly just in time before you fall onto the ground.
Time stands still, your eyes stare right into Megumi’s ones. You’re sitting on top of him, thighs pressed against his with his big hands resting against your hips, squeezing them. You can feel something twitching underneath you, Megumi’s heartbeat bangs against your hands. Oh god. Is this really happening? All you can do is hold your breath and stare at him, every cell of your body refusing to move.
You sit on top of Megumi Fushiguro.
His hands grab your hips.
You know exactly what is moving beneath you.
“We didn’t even talk about this Megumi-chan, get back into yo- OH MY GODNESS.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gojo entered the room, gaping at the both of you with his mouth wide open and completely frozen in his tracks.
“I-It’s not what it l-looks like…I-I promise!”, you stutter, full panic mode activated.
You stumble off him, body swaying back and forth. Did you really just sit on Megumi? With Gojo catching you mid-action?
Megumi hectically covers his lower body with a blanket, face dripping in sweat, embarrassment and heat. You just sat on him. He got hard and you probably noticed. Gojo saw all of this. He doesn’t know what to think or say anymore, mind completely occupied by what just happened. Did you really sit on him?
“Listen kids, I don’t care about curfew or anything, but please make sure to use protection and be…y’know…quiet.”
Even Gojo stumbles over his words at this point, avoiding gazing at your poorly dressed figure.
“We didn’t do anything. It just looked strange”, Megumi finally speaks out.
You want to be swallowed by the ground and hide in a tiny hole for the rest of your life. Your sensei thinks that you two got intimate. But not only that, it looked like he caught you mid-action. But more important than that…You sat on Megumi and he was very excited about that. Does that mean that he…likes you?
“Sure. Listen, let’s talk about this tomorrow or even better, never again. Just make sure to be quiet…Ehm, have a nice night I guess.”
And with that, Gojo closes the door behind him, leaving the both of you with his fast steps echoing down the hall.
Silence fills the room, you don’t dare to look at Megumi.
“Maybe…You wanna cuddle for a bit? Doesn’t make any difference anymore I guess.”
Your heart skips a beat. Did this words really just left his mouth, the mouth of Megumi Fushiguro, the boy who never even tried to put an arm around you? This night truly just keeps getting crazier.
“Aren’t you worried about what Gojo-sensei thinks?”, you question, face still hot in embarrassment.
“I’ll talk to him in the morning. We don’t have to if yo-“
“No”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I would love to lay in your arms.”
And that’s what you did. His warm arms welcomed and held you tight through the rest of this eventful night, heart still racing uncontrollably.
“I think I like you more than a friend”, you admit into silence, face buried against his chest.
“Me too.”
“Yeah, I noticed that”, you remark before you can stop yourself.
Megumi pushes you off his chest, face red as a tomato almost instantly.
“Can we please just stop talking about that, (y/n)?”
1K notes · View notes
etherealstar-writes · 4 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: seven
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the REAL karate kid
good afternoon losers
and y/n <3
the imposter
hey
willybum
good afternoon you dumbass
and hello to you too y/n
the REAL karate kid
rude
how are you y/n?
the imposter
eh i'm doing fine i guess
stairway
is everything alright
the imposter
i got fired from work today 😔
lotte
what happened?
if you don't mind me asking
the imposter
so i told ya what i do for work yeah?
well i've worked for this company for the past
whole year as their main solo media manager
and then my boss found out that his good old
friend's son was looking for a job and he's also
a photographer and social media manager so he
decided to fire me and hire him instead to
keep his relationship strong with his old friend
the REAL karate kid
that really sucks
your boss sounds like a terrible person
the imposter
yeah he was a really difficult person
i am kinda glad tho ngl
i don't have to see his annoying face ever again
but back to job hunting again 😔
neev
if it makes you feel better
leah got head-shotted in the head
by lessi during training
the imposter
i really hope someone got proof of it
stairway
i gotcha
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maya
HELP
lotte
got K.O-ed lol
willybum
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this isn't funny
i got a full on concussion
i'll get you back russo
the REAL karate kid
not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️
willybum
EXCUSE ME?!
the imposter
dam
them calves 😮‍💨
has anyone ever asked you
to step on them?
neev
um y/n is there something you'd
like to share with the group ...
willybum
weirdly enough yeah
i have been asked that
elton
it was actually just y/n asking
on a secret account
the imposter
don't expose me like that 😩
meado
every time i open this group chat
i get deeply concerned for you all again
i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like
i should be concerned about her as well
the imposter
woah
meado
i thought we were getting along well 😔
stairway
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well if meado is concerned then
i guess she's offering to pay for
our therapy so let's go gang
the imposter
also
why do guys always train and
play football together?
elton
oh you know
we just like to play football together at times
stairway
yeah
it's fun
the imposter
okay ....
who am i to judge
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE LION KING SQUAD
russo
uh
so guys
i have done something
toone
oh no
that is never a good sign
le tissier
okay i'm intrigued
this is gonna be bad
wubben-moy
the fact that she's using the group chat
without y/n is not a good sign
stanway
is she about to introduce her new wife
to us or something? did you like run away
and get married in vegas or something?
charles
we literally saw her yesterday georgia
so if she had then that would be
insanely impressive
toone
is that why you weren't at training today?
greenwood
ella looked very lost today
it was worrying
russo
yeah
i ran away with y/n and we got married
toone
HUH
stanway
WHAT
charles
EXCUSE ME
russo
OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS
not yet anyway 😏
but back to the point
leah was also in on this
bright
oh like that's any better
williamson
excuse me??
wubben-moy
here we go
russo
okay
so
you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?
well leah and i thought we'd put in a
good word for her in our media admin so
that you know .... maybe she can get
offered a job here and you know we can
actually meet her and get to know her irl ....
stanway
that is actually ....
the most decent idea i've heard from ya
charles
yeah fr
hemp
oh my god y'all are such simps
stanway
shut up
toone
i do wonder when y/n will find out about
who we are or if she ever will
charles
nah she's got to find out soon with
the euros starting next week?
williamson
i reckon we tell her after the euros
wubben-moy
well that shall be eventful
part eight here
572 notes · View notes
todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 10 months
Text
"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."
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"want to impress you"
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synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.
pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count// 3.8k
contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses
notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !
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Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.
“Why did you guys drag me in here?”
Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”
“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”
“…Yes.” 
“Then you took part in it.”
Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”
Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”
“A presentation!”
“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.
She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?” 
“Yes!” 
“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.
“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”
“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”
Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”
Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”
“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”
He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”
“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”
Geto adds, “That's what I said!”
“Do you know if Y/N is going?”
“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”
“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”
“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.
Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”
“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”
“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”
Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.
She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”
“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”
Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”
He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?” 
“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”
“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.
She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.
“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”
She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”
“No.”
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“I like Geto more than I like you.”
He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”
Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.
Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”
Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.
“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”
You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”
“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”
“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”
You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”
Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.
“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.
You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”
“Shoko.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.
She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”
You freeze.
“What?”
“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.
The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.
“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?” 
Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.
Holy shit.
Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:
Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.
Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.
There’s still time.
He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.
“Nothing?” 
Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.
Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.
“Shoko!”
She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”
Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”
Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.
“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”
Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.
Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”
Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.
“What?”
“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.
“Uh, getting ready?”
“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.
“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”
You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.
You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.
“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.
Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.
“What the fuck?”
“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”
You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.
“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.
“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.
“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.
Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”
“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”
Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.
Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.
“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”
“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.
Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”
You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”
“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”
Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”
“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!” 
Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.
“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”
You scoff. “Shut up!”
Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.
“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”
All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.
“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”
Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.
“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”
The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.
Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”
“Oh, I fucking mean it.”
“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”
Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.
“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”
You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”
Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”
“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.
Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”
You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”
She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”
You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.
“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”
Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.
“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…
And he misses.
Horribly.
And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.
“What-“
Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”
Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”
You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.
“Oh, why are you still here?”
“Huh?” 
"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.
“Am… Am I supposed to be?”
“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”
“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”
You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.
“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.
You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.” 
“You are.” 
“What was that Gojo?”
He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”
You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”
He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”
You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?
“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”
He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"
“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.
Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.
You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!” 
“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”
“Gojo, don’t you dare.”
You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.
"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.
“I hate you.”
“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.
“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.
“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
2K notes · View notes
cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months
Text
m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)
fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)
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the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.
eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.
"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"
" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"
eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-
"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.
"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.
bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.
"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.
kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.
"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.
all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.
yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.
only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.
the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.
"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"
bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.
bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.
3..
bakugou huffs out a sigh.
2...
he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?
"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."
the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.
" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.
"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.
"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.
"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.
"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.
"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.
"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"
"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"
at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.
"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"
bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.
"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"
bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.
"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.
"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"
the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.
"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.
"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.
kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.
"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.
"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.
a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.
" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.
"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.
"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.
“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.
"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.
"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."
"fuck off !"
"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"
" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth
"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.
"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.
all four boys share a shiver.
afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.
"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it
"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.
it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.
"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.
" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.
bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.
it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.
"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.
"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.
"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"
"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.
"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.
" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "
afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.
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pupcuck · 4 months
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STAY SOFT, GET EATEN !
ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader
tags. p in v, incest, dub-con that is basically non-con idk
note. unedited cuz i got lazy omg. umm ignore typos :3 sorry my writing is so jolty lately im finding it hard to write so it’s all coming off very clunky but :3 rbs n feedback appreciated !! this is like not actually that smutty I’m sorry 💔 if u see me reusing bits from other old fics pretend it’s new
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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Your dad is hot, an indisputable fact. He’s a total babe, kinda looks like he should’ve been in Baywatch during his prime, got a rack that rivals C. J. Parker’s. Ever since you hit twelve, and the girls in your class suddenly got all boy crazy, you’ve been hearing nonstop about how cute dad is.
Sleepovers were held at yours so they could get a glimpse of him, and your dad might be friendly, but he’s clumsy with conversation, not much of a talker, so he made himself scarce. Then came the slew of questions, you think it was Ashley Graham, the one that didn’t know how to quit it. Airheaded with eyes like chipped peridot.
Hey, where’s your mom? Is she still around, I’ve never heard about her? What kinda girl does your dad like?
My dad doesn’t like kids, freak.
He might, and I’m not a kid! I mean, I turn thirteen in January. I bought a bra at PINK the other day, I even got measured, the lady said I’m an A cup.
Even my dad's are bigger than that, loser.
I’m, like, so not a loser! My mom said I could get a boob job when I turn sixteen, and by then your dad will be, like, what? Thirty?
He’ll be forty-three, dumbass.
Yeah, forty-three, that’s perfect. We can date then as long as you don’t have a mom. I did see a picture on your desk, but that’s your sister right? ‘Cause if that’s your mom, she never picks you up from school, so she’s either dead or they broke up or she hates you, right? I’m so right, aren’t I?
You’re wrong, stupid. My mom just works a lot.
Boo, I totally thought she was dead, well, whatever, if they break up by the time I hit sixteen, I’ll totally be your new step-mom.
For a lack of better words, you wanted that bitch dead. She meant well, you’ve just never met someone so out of touch, the type of girl that hands out Chanel handbags at the food bank.
A few years later, when you turned eighteen, it was Ada Wong, you had this co-dependent, whirlwind friendship that had you by the throat. She was cool, a few years older, and everyone thought she was hot. You were lame, and wanted everyone to think you were hot. What you don’t understand is how on earth it ended with her hand down the front of your dad’s pants at your graduation party. He was totally out of it too, she took advantage of a poor, drunk old man, and the worst part about it? That wasn’t what made you mad. Not that she touched him when he was slurring, tripping over his own feet, you were mad ‘cause she got to touch him in the first place.
When you tell your counsellor, I have a crush on my dad, she falters. She’s this older lady that reminds you of your Auntie Claire, they have the same button nose, and that makes it harder to talk to her. She presents herself professionally, and takes herself a little too seriously, also in the way Auntie Claire does at times. Bitch thinks she’s a psychologist. She has an office tucked right into the corner of your university’s humanities department.
“Well, is your dad absent?” She starts, chews on the lid of her ballpoint pen, the type you get in a pack of two hundred. See, if she were a real psychologist, she’d have a fancy one, with runny ink, and a metallic barrel.
“No, my dad raised me.” Your lips twitch upwards, wanting to scowl at her. ‘Cause this is your thirteenth session, and she knows how close you are to dad.
“Well, then, has your dad ever hit you?” She blinks real slow like it hurts to blink.
“What? No, never.” You’ve asked me these questions before, you stuck-up cow.
“Well, then,” Her eye twitches, you think she might report you to the authorities for being a freak, “Has he ever behaved inappropriately with you?”
The worst your dad has done is ask if you’re on birth control, only once, and he was rightfully worried. “Never, he would never do that.” I don’t know if you’ve been listening, I’m the one that wants to sit on his dick.
She taps her nail on the oak desk, popping open a button on her blouse. Some counsellor she is, mouth drying up ‘cause you have a crush on your dad. “Listen, if it’s not me overstepping boundaries, or being impolite, I’d like to refer you to a therapist.”
No fucking way. Jackpot. You’ve been waiting three months for this, all it took for her to cut the crap was an incestual confession? Although, you really do need to get that fixed, there’s this part of your brain, the cerebellum you believe, that’s been cut out and replaced by a hunk of meat that resembles your father. Whoever did it made a shoddy malpractical mess that you’re left to clean up with scarce supplies and medical knowledge.
“I'd really appreciate that.” You tell her, mustering your toothiest of grins as you pack up your shit and pass through the doorway, never to turn back to advice that consists solely of ‘talk it out’ and ‘use daily affirmations’ and other baseline shit they cover in Cosmopolitan articles you could read for free.
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Therapy turns out to be no help. Not ‘cause of the content of the session, this is your first one actually, more ‘cause your therapist resembles dad. A little more on the polished side than your father, with salt and pepper hair that would look so good on him. Leon refuses though, to grow old, that is, to look anything more than thirty - he’s far past that, you think he’s looked old ever since you were born.
It’s going to be a distraction, you might leap out of your seat and fuck this man half to death if he scoots his chair any closer, if he keeps scratching his chin in the way dad does. There’s a copy of Nineteen-Eighteen-Four on the desk behind him, the one with the fabric cover to be specific, embellished by tiny labouring hands to sit pretty on the best-seller shelf in some overpriced independent bookstore. More importantly, it’s the copy that collects dust on your dad’s bedside, the one he insists to have read, but the pages still have that fresh scent to them, and not a single one is dog-eared.
There’s a ring on his ring finger, just like dad’s, and that might be a stretch, ‘cause every married man has a ring on their ring finger. Still reminds you of dad though. His is gold, and dad’s is silver ‘cause mom likes silver. You like silver ‘cause it looks pretty on dad.
He introduces himself, his way of speech is refined, and you can tell he thinks before he speaks unlike dad. Leon is clunky with words, oftentimes crude without realising. Cancellation and no-show fees, your rights, confidentiality, he runs you through all of it - the whole time you’re focused on his lips, the prominent curve of his Cupid’s bow, the double lip line that makes them appear fuller from afar. Just like dad’s lips.
The receptionist frowns when you request to see another therapist, then she begins to click, click, click away at her keyboard. She stops midway to file her nails, then she pops her gum and gives a very simple shake of the head, ponytail moving with her. You doubt the slow bitch even tried, so you make your way home, a heat in your stomach that refuses to fizzle out, an ache so deep only dad could reach it. With his dick, obviously.
Dad’s keys jingle and you hear wedding bells. You check the time, he’s home early, he toes off his shoes and tucks them into the cubby hole shelf mom placed by the door. She’d be down his throat if he left them scattered for her to trip over again.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Leon smiles kindly, the same smile that’s seen you throughout your life. The one he gave you when he first held you, the one he gave you when you fell off your bike, and he brushed the crumbly gravel off your knees and kissed the tender scrapes on both. When you graduated, and he held back tears but acted all tough about it, he smiled all the same.
“Hi, dad.” The one you give in return is meek, the apples of your cheeks refusing to raise upwards into your eye-line.
“Oh,” Dad is perceptive, he throws his jacket over the bannister, keys tucked into one of it’s unzipped pocket - they dangle haphazardly, and you’re sure he’ll forget about them and toss that jacket in the washing machine, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You shrug Leon’s hand off of your shoulder when he takes the seat adjacent to you. It’s cruel, the expression on his face sours, your heart lurches. Making him upset is your farthest intention, you just don’t know how much skin to skin contact you can handle with him.
Nonetheless, it was the wrong move, ‘cause he shuffles closer, “Hey now, don’t push me out, what’s wrong?”
“Dad, I promise, nothing's up.” You aim to soothe him with your words, but his agitation grows, your discomfort is palpable - he tastes it on his tongue, it’s the blood in the back of his throat. There’s no getting past him. “Therapy was bad.” No harm in telling a lie or two.
“Therapy,” Leon waves his hand through a nonexistent cloud of smoke, “You don’t need that.”
Here we go. All you need is a hug from dad! A kiss from dad. And you’ll be all better, sweetheart.
“I do, dad.” You glare at him, he smooths his thumb over your wrinkled brow and your heart drops to your ass. Dad needs to stop touching you before you touch him back, that’s a silent threat, your fingers twitch to grab him, mould his soft flesh into the shape of your fingertips.
“I did a good job with you,” Leon states, “My dad—“
My dad hit me, my dad threw me through a glass table once, busted my ass and made me crawl through the shattered glass and then he set wild dogs on me - your grandma just watched - I been through all that and I don’t need to go to therapy. He says something along those lines, albeit less cinematically thrilling.
“You did a very good job with me,” You nod, reassure him in a maternal tone almost ‘cause all dads are children that need to be praised, “It’s not your fault, dad, I love you lots.” Well, it is, for raising you so well, maybe he raised you too well. Or maybe you’re just a bit sick in the head, or maybe it’s his fault for looking how he looks.
“Then you don’t need therapy,” He sinks back into his dent in the leather couch, “You just need a hug, bring it in, kid.”
No, no, no. You do your best to fend him off, all for his own sake, but he draws you close to his chest, smothers you by pushing your face right into the dip. He smells good, cologne gradually having worn off as the day progressed, the slightly tangy undertone of his sweat coming through.
“And a kiss.” He coos at you, pinches your cheek, clicks his tongue in an attempt to coax you.
God, no. Don’t kiss me. Don’t do that— Mwah! Smack bang on your forehead as he tips your chin upwards, blinking down at you with sticky toffee lashes. And you, stupidly, in your lovestruck haze, pull him in to place the most disgusting, sloppy kiss on his lips - one that does little to hide your ardour for dad.
Leon’s neck almost snaps with how fast he pulls back, then he stares at you open-mouthed, and you hate to say it, but you’d kiss his lips swollen again. A man of his age, especially your father, should not be pretty or doll-lipped, but he is and you hate it. He’s your hamartia of sorts.
“Sweetheart…” Dad shambles aimlessly through his words, umming and ahing.
“Oh, god, you totally think I’m a freak, right?” You take your hands off of his chest, where they had been firmly planted, giving him a real good squeeze without even realising. “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it just came out, you were just really close to me and I got nervous.” Now you sound like him, a lack of conversational tact is exactly what you got from dad.
“No, it’s alright, it’s okay, sweetheart, just give dad a minute.” He pats your shoulder, then he stands up, about to march on forward to grab his keys and leave. You know your dad, so you take his wrist in your hand, beg him to face you.
“Dad… I’m sorry, can you look at me?” You add a ‘please’ in the most desperate tone you can manage, brows slanting downwards as your bottom lip trembles.
Leon struggles to do so, his arm flexes when he tenses, stiffening in your grip. He sits back down when you begin to sniffle, too lamb-hearted to sit through your fit of tears. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Dad rubs your back, but he avoids moving his face close like he usually would, this is his cue to kiss the tears from your cheeks, but he doesn’t.
“It’s not, dad,” You hiccup, choking on an ugly sob that manifests into an even uglier yelp, “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just really lonely.”
“Baby,” Leon’s voice is sweet like a glacé cherry, “I didn’t know you were feeling like that, I didn’t know you were lonely.”
You are, but that’s not why you kissed dad. You kissed dad out of your own free will, ‘cause you’re in love with him. “I am really lonely, dad, I don’t know what to do.” The snot and tears don’t bother him, he wipes it away with the back of his hand. You’re his baby, you know that. So if he can do that, why can’t he fuck you? It’s ugly in the same way, he’ll wipe his load off your stomach instead, or your ass if he wants to take you from the back.
“Hey, it’s okay, we can— we can fix that, I promise.” The only thing you need him to fix is the leak you’ve sprung, plug it up or whatever. “There’s no use cryin’ about it, alright? Dad doesn’t like seeing you cry.”
His guard drops, and you’re kissing him again, harder, till he’s breathless and confused and yet unable to push you off. ‘Cause dad is so weak-willed when it comes to you. If only you’d had the guts to get to him sooner. “I won’t cry… I won’t cry if you kiss me, dad, I promise.” It’s a shitty tactic, threats, making dad’s heart jump like that - gonna send him into cardiac arrest.
Leon hesitates, softens like butter when your hands come to fist the fabric of his shirt, “Okay, just, just a kiss, alright? And mom can’t find out ‘bout this.” He stammers, cupping your face in his big hands, his fingers trembling. “And… And just one, yeah?” His flimsy assertion of dominance has your lips curving into the slightest of smiles, dad’s cute.
“Just one.” You agree, his spiky lashes cast shadows on his face, he shuts his eyes tight as your lips ghost over his for a moment, then you take his face in your hands and press them together. Lip to lip. Heart to heart. You swing a leg over his, situating yourself in his lap. Leon’s eyes open, no longer bracing as he glances down at your spread thighs, then up at your face.
“What’s up?” Leon tries, it’s hard to miss the apprehensive edge to his tone, how he burrows backwards into the couch pillows, shoulders shrinking to get away from you. His kid.
He’s not moving. Not pushing you off, which he could easily do, not calling mom and telling her you need to be checked into a ward of some kind - with others akin to you. Would be like a slumber party really, getting to indulge in fantasies that haven’t left the confines of your sick little head. Dad is looking on ahead, glassy-eyed and sad. And you kind of get it now, what you’ve heard about dad being easy back when he was younger. Not easy, but soft. Pliant against his own will, even when he has the capacity to say no, you’ve given him plenty of chances to say no.
“Dad, I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.” That’s a promise, you’re worked up from therapy with the cleaner version of dad. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this ever again.” Unless you want too is left unsaid. You hope the implications are clear enough, that he’s picking up what you’re putting down, but dad is slow in that sense. He’s a hands-on type of guy.
You give him a minute, dad blinks, and there’s no explicit refusal, so you lift up to wriggle out of your jeans. Dad’s come undone a little easier, he raises his hips when you ask him to do so, and he flinches when you unzip them - fingers coming into contact with the softness of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. Leon’s not hard. It’s a blow to your already crippled ego, then again you’ve heard mom talk about Viagra to him before - so maybe it’s not a ‘my kid is groping my dick’ issue, but more of an old age issue.
The tip is velvety on your skin when you tuck your fingers beneath the waistband to tug them down, with the way he’s reclined back in his seat, his dick flops onto his stomach. Heavy and stagnant, much like dad himself. Doesn’t spring up and whack you in the face like dicks tend to do in porn, doesn’t have a mind of its own, it just sits there awkwardly.
Leon closes his eyes, you notice how ragged his breathing is and wonder if he’s getting any enjoyment out of this, or if he’s two minutes away from flatlining. To comfort him, you stroke a hand over his cheek, fingers curling beneath his square jaw as your other hand curls around his flaccid cock. He flinches, and for the first time in your life, you see dad cry. And it turns you on. The last time was when you were born, you don’t remember it, for obvious reasons, but he reiterates it every birthday.
“Oh, dad,” Your brows knit together, “I didn’t… Please don’t cry, I really didn’t mean to upset you, dad. Gosh, I’m just, I just needed to do this dad— Can you speak to me, please? I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon’s voice wavers, his body is wracked with shivers, chills prickling his spine, “I want to make you happy.” You’re all he's got, you and mom are the only speck of normalcy in dad’s life and you’ve gone and ruined it. For reasons even your counsellor couldn’t process, reasons that are unfathomable to you. A prion disease so severe that even your therapist likely fears there’s no chance. “I’m sorry.” He says finally, and your stomach hurts.
“Dad, don’t say sorry, that’s stupid.” You lift your hips once more, spitting on your palm and smearing it over his dick has done little for lube, but he’s not all that big - and you’re dripping down your thighs, it’ll be an easy fit, ‘cause dad made you. Half of you is him, and that means he’ll be just right. “It’s not your fault.” You tell him, but you doubt it lifts the guilt from his shoulders, it weighs down his tender heart instead.
Dad doesn’t think that way. He blames everything on himself. Leon’s the one that raised you, he's the one that went wrong. You don’t know how else to tell him there’s something sick inside your head, and it’s infected every single part of you.
It’s hard to guide him into your hole, the tip bumps over your twitching clit a couple of times, up and down your slippery folds as you try to line him up. Leon’s face twists when you take him in, walls breached by the tip alone, you wonder if he’s relieved to find out you’re a virgin. You’ve been saving it for dad, didn’t know the opportunity would come so soon. Your cunt squelches when you take him to the hilt, squeezing around his shaft till he hardens inside of you. There we go, so dad does like you after all? Or is this a natural response? Or is he thinking of someone else, his eyes have been closed for an awfully long time.
“Dad, will you look at me, please?” That’s the second time you’ve asked so nicely and he obeys all the same, cracking open his eyes, foggy like stained glass, just as bright too.
Two hands come to rest on your torso, Leon’s keeping you at arms length. You want dad to let you in. The rocking off your hips elicits the slightest groan from his parted lips, you grind yourself into his lap, fat head leaking and jabbing at that spongy spot deep inside. See? Dad’s made for you. Dad knows you.
“Dad,” You whimper, clammy forehead sticking to his, the tip of your nose bumping his broad one, it’s romantic you think. In the same way A View from the Bridge is romantic - to you and you only. “I love you… I love you so much.” His hips jolt upwards, dad’s sensitive you suppose, he didn’t mean to do it ‘cause his face contorts with pure, unadulterated disgust.
Shakily, you take his bigger hand in yours, he’s limp in your grip. You jam his hand between your sweaty bodies, force him to rub them against your thrumming clit. Dad does it. ‘Cause he loves you, if you didn’t get that by now. His thumb rubs figure eights into your bud, the nimble touch, along with dad’s dick right where you want it, lodged deep inside your pussy - it tips you right over the edge.
Your thighs tremble, snapping shut around his hand, and his cock slips out. He’s only got a semi, or maybe he came earlier, but you don’t know much about dick specifics so you curl into his chest, and dad holds you tight even after you totally violated the poor guy.
“Should clean up ‘fore mom gets home.” Leon’s voice is unsteady, lilting up and down, all over the place. God, did you make dad cry again, you stupid bitch?
“Yeah,” You agree, scratching the back of your head ‘cause what do you even say after fucking your dad? Couldn’t even ask google that. “Dad, do you still like me?”
“I love you,” He answers instinctively, “I’ll love you no matter what you do to me, kid.”
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writersblg · 4 months
Text
how the cod characters would answer their partners unwanted direct messages
You sat on the couch next to your partner when you scrolled through your DMs. After looking up the posts your friends sent you, you looked at the messages from profiles you weren’t following. You wouldn’t respond but nevertheless loved reading through them. It ranged from innocent compliments to downright filthy requests to send theses strangers pictures of yourself. When you laughed at these texts your partner looked over to you “What’s so funny?” - “Look.” You say, hand over your phone and let them answer your DMs.
Simon
Rates the profiles of the people that hit on you
“He’s too short for you, anyway.”
Reads a lot of your DM’s aloud because he knows it makes you cringe
Also tries to remember some of the pick up lines you get send to use it later on you
“I don’t know which is prettier today—the weather, or your eyes.” “Are you a light switch? Because you turn me on.” “I’d say, ‘God bless you,’ but it looks like he already did.” WITH THE SMUGGEST SMILE ON HIS FACE
Also answers profiles that keep texting you “she’s not interested.”
If the guy still keeps pressing Simon would offer to solve it like men and sends him an address and time, he fully knows the guy won’t show up
Soap
Someone sent you a dick pic
Johnny laughs at the picture
“Cute” he says and excuses himself to the bathroom if he’s feeling generous (if not he’ll pull his pants down right in front of you to snap a pic)
Sends a snap back without any text
Ends up traumatising the guy and you get blocked in a matter of seconds
Saves the picture in your gallery in case another guy pulls the same stunt
Gaz
Kinda feels insulted when the people who DM‘d you are ugly
“Smash.”
“He’s a good looking fella, right?” He says and it’s not even a trap
Starts flirting with them on your behalf to make you seem like a lunatic
Asks them a lot of astrological questions and very ridiculous ones at that and sees how far they are willing to go
Very disgusted at some requests you get and sometimes answers with “that’s not a way to speak to a woman”
Price
Sees all of them as losers
In his mind dating should never start online
Just deletes all DMs you get send before you even see them
Every time though he sees a 10/10 he deletes the message from that person and gets you flowers the next day
Has a hard time not policing your instagram posts but just from a safety standpoint
Alex
Might send a selfie back with an additional “sorry bud”
Somehow becomes friends with that stranger over your DMs
Might get invited to the wedding because he’d find that funny and makes him hold a unofficial speech
Farah
Gets so worked up over this
You literally try to get your phone back to calm her down but she won’t give it back
Kinda starts an argument about it and a pretty big one unfortunately
Makes you turn your profile to private
Valeria
Just texts them “stay away”
If they keep texting she’ll find their addresses 😭
Literally sends death threats via mail
While you’re just happily saying “they stopped harassing me! :) how did you do that?” - “they won’t bother you again :)” - 😟
Otherwise your biggest cheerleader on your social medias
Alejandro
Gets overly protective
Close to start a fight over text
Is blocking people left and right
Accidentally also blocks a few of your friends out of impulsiveness and they end up hating him
Rudy
“Sorry she’s in a relationship but I’ll let her know :)” after you got a compliment
Very respectful about rejecting dudes no matter how ridiculous they were
Keegan
You got a “Are you looking for a sugar daddy?” DM
Has watched these scammer videos and now wants to try it for himself
Gets into a whole relationship with this scammer
Lowkey becomes his new hobby to message that guy over the next weeks
He talks to you what to say next
Uses a ridiculously high pitched voice while typing
Starts stealing your phone for that
One day comes running to you announcing that you’re he’s getting married
A/N: since this post is still popping off do any of you have travel tips for Scotland? 🫶
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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months
Note
this has been on my mind for a while, how would König react to a reader who was around when he was being bullied, not one of the bullies since I doubt he would forgive that even tho the sex would be nasty but like a girl who was on the side lines doing nothing and just hanging out with the bullies coming to him apologetically and wanting to make amends??
Oh what a delicious idea!
I meant to answer this with a quick reply but alas 🙄 this turned into a short drabble almost
She wasn’t one of the bullies, which means she’s not someone who König would want to actively terminate (I hc him in some of my darker fics as someone who may or may not have killed his childhood bullies... and/or his father, which means König can’t go back to Austria bc MEMORIES and also bc he has like a raging criminal record there). But she’s an onlooker, practically an enabler, and used to hang out with his bullies, oh dear. König wouldn’t be all too welcoming with her.
Chances are she was someone who König crushed on during school. Unattainable, he daydreamed about having her as his first girlfriend, but naturally that never happened... Now he’s suspicious to the point of being a little paranoid: he built a tough shell because of his past, so doe eyes and apologies won’t get you very far, even if König is intrigued. To be honest, his interest is piqued, but he won't let you see that in a million years.
Perhaps you reach out after a class meeting, some get together he never attended. You always wondered what happened to the cute, awkward nerd who sat behind you in class, the clumsy boy who talked of Rome, chivalry and knights while other boys wanted to be F1 drivers... Maybe you fantasized about asking him to help you with your history or math test, maybe you even blew him a kiss one time on dare to see if he'd walk straight into a wall (he did).
Maybe you dolled yourself up, just for him, excited to see König after over 10 years. To see if the awkward boy would still blush, to see what kind of man he has become... Chirp your regrets after a few blunts and some booze and see if he still fancied you.
But König never came. And of course he didn’t, that’s hardly a surprise. The regret within you builds until you bite the bullet and send a message to his old number, and after a few months, a reply finally arrives, but it’s not the most genial one.
König wants to meet you though… And the man, the thing he has become, makes it clear that he's not the shy awkward boy anymore.
You spend the whole evening trying to get over the sheer size of him, the lack of shaking hands, the distant cold stare with which he looks down at you. The fact that he works as a mercenary, that the boy who never hit anyone now kills people for money... The fact that he looks like someone who could wipe the floor with the young men you used to think were kinda cool.
König, however, is trying to decide what you want from him. Do you still think he’s a loser who never hit back because he wanted to be the better person? Do you think he’s a good for nothing man, even now, upon seeing that he finally succumbed to his hate?
Why do you even want to apologize after all these years?
Do you want an official pardon so that you can sleep your nights better? Or do you want to gawk at him because he chose to skip that stupid get together, perhaps gossip about him to the others and see if you could still find something to laugh at?
He’s the perfect gentleman during your “date”, offers to pay for the food and wishes you all the best. You can see the hurt in his eyes, of course – he wants to make you feel even worse about yourself by being such a good joe, so you break before him when he tries to leave, apologizing again, even crying in front of him.
“I just wanted to know if you’re happy,” you say. “I just hope that everything’s alright now…”
You lay your whole heart out in front of this man, but he's not the boy you used to know, not anymore.
He doesn’t tell you that he’s not happy; he never was. Neither does he heed the wishes of his darker self, wanting to tell you that he’d be happy for a while if you blew him in the restroom. He’s fucking better than that.
“We were just kids,” he says instead.
And that’s it: that’s the apology. But you can’t let him go, and neither can he, not when you humbly decided to come and rip all his wounds open.
Cue to a few months from the first date, you’re neck deep in love with him while König tells himself he’s only having fun. You could say he’s using you for sex; yes, he’s just dating this chick from high school... You’re just someone he comes to fuck and cuddle during leaves. It's nothing serious, no. He can do without serious for a while.
And he’s not going to fall for your charms, no matter how sweet, authentic and loving you are... You make yourself so fucking easy to love, but he's not going to fall for that. Any other woman he'd worship, but not you.
Not you.
Not you…
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farfaras · 1 year
Text
Part 1.
Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.
But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.
“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.
“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.
“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”
“You’re changing the subject!”
“Objection!”
“Stop it!”
Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.
Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.
“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.
“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”
“I didn’t go on a date.”
“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.
“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.
“But you kind of are.”
“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”
Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.
“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.
“No.”
“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”
Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.
“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.
“I’m so confused.” She said.
“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.
“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”
“I don’t even like him like that!”
“But you said you liked it!”
“Who wouldn’t!”
“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.
“I- I know, okay?”
“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.
“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.
“I like him.”
They hugged.
-
“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”
Robin thunked her head on the counter.
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gr7mes · 14 days
Text
FALLING BEHIND “everybody’s falling in love but im falling behind.” carl grimes x fem!reader
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tags: fluff, kissing, use of y/n, e2l
@p1stach1oss + @gr7mes !! we both did laufey inspired carl fics so check out hers <3
a/n: this is my longest fic ever omg 😭 teehee i love adding him with cold hands🙏 this fic is inspired by falling behind by laufey, the lyrics r in between paragraphs or they’re in italic and bold !! i don’t know how to feel ab this one 😭
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you felt like cupid was against you. “he called me pretty y/n. he called me pretty.” enid says, clutching your hand in excitement. you notice how the sunlight hits her face perfectly, no wonder she’s got ron all over her.
and my best friend’s found a new guy
you tried hard. really hard. it was practically impossible for you to get a boyfriend. sure, you had better things to worry about, but it was hard to stop thinking about it when you saw couples everywhere you went.
you were honestly desperate at this point. it was pathetic, really pathetic. but you just couldn’t manage anymore. you wanted to have someone who would let you cry into their chest when you were low, someone who would bend down to tie your shoelaces when they were undone, someone who would love you.
like a normal teenage girl, it was no surprise that you had a crush. of course, to your luck, you didn’t have even a slim chance with him. you were naive, wanting a boyfriend but crushing on the boy who hated your guts. you had fallen in love with carl grimes.
you and the boy weren’t exactly best buddies. when you were younger, he would tease you every chance he got. it’s not so different now. carl had made it his number one priority to make your life a living hell, and oh boy, was he successful.
he was tormenting you, but not in the way he’s trying to. he was all you could think about, and it was irritating. he could be making fun of you, and all you would focus on was his pretty face.
god, his eyes were like the midwinter sky, you could stare at them all day without getting bored. you often found yourself also gazing at his lips. they would be moving but you wouldn’t hear anything. it was hard to focus on things when you were around him.
“y/n? hello.. did you not hear what i just said?” enid says, eyebrows furrowing into confusion. “no, i did- sorry. go on.” you felt bad, you knew she was happy about this. so why couldn’t you just listen and be happy for her?
“whats distracting you so much? you’re really out of it today.” she says. “nothing, it’s not important.” “you sure? seemed pre-“ you watch as she glances behind you, talking instantly coming to a stop. you notice how her face flushes before she grins. you turn around to see ron, mr. prince charming, smiling at her.
“go, we can talk tomorrow.” you say, nodding your head in ron’s direction, a slight smile appearing on your face. “thank you, thank you, thank you! i promise we’ll talk later. you can tell me all about what you were daydreaming about.” enid exclaims, quickly rising to her feet, finishing her sentence as she walks over to the lanky boy.
lovers stroll without a care in sight
you were making your way back to your house, looking down at the ground beneath you. it’s not that you were completely devastated you didn’t have a lover of your own, but you were upset. “wait up loser!” you hear a voice call out from behind you.
your footsteps come to a halt and almost instantly, carl grimes is standing next to you. you felt your heart stop. play it cool y/n. “hi..?” you wanted to smack yourself right there and then. hi?? hi?!! you were so basic. “what’s got you all quiet? you’re usually so loud, you’re kinda scaring me.” he jokes, noticing how your usual smile was turned into a slight frown.
you found it kinda weird how he noticed the little things about you. you’d known each other for years now, and if you were being honest, he probably knew you better than enid did. boy, did it give you butterflies. if only he liked you back. “m’ okay. jus thinking about something. it’s really dumb though.” “everything you say is dumb. what’s up?” there it is. the daily insult.
“like i said, it’s nothing. don’t you have something better to do?” you say, looking him in the eye. “yeah, but i think this is pretty entertaining. now, can you please tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
ooh, this can’t be right
you knew he was probably being sarcastic, but his words still made your heart beat faster. anything carl said made your heart beat faster.
“you really wanna know?” “have i not made it obvious enough?” he says, rolling his eyes playfully. you sigh. “don’t laugh, but it’s like- everybody’s falling in love and i’m falling behind.” “what do you mean?” he was.. interested in what you had to say?
“everyone is getting their perfect fairytale and i’m just there. enid keeps talking about ron, how he calls her pretty and everything. they’re perfect. meanwhile, no one has even had a crush on me. it’s hopeless. i’m only getting older, i’ve never had a shoulder to cry on.”
carl looked at you with sympathy. “you’re really clueless aren’t you?” he asks, chuckling. “huh?” “y/n, who do you think left the comic you really wanted on your doorstep? who do you think got you the heart locket necklace thingy for your birthday? you’ve never thought about why they were just laying there?”
“i dont- i thought it was just enid surprising me or something.” “i dont think enid sneaked out the week before your birthday to make sure you got a good gift.” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “are you saying- that’s impossible.”
“i am in love with you. that’s what i’m saying.” your eyes widened, mouth parting slightly. “but- how? you’ve hated me since we were like- i don’t even know.” “who said i hated you?” okay. what was going on? carl grimes, the boy who’s been tormenting you since you could walk is confessing his feelings to you?
he sighs. “i-i know i’ve been an asshole. and i’m sorry. i’ve just been scared.” “scared..?” you ask, a puzzled look on your face. “terrified. y/n, you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever laid eyes on. i don’t- i didn’t know how to express my feelings. so i’ve just been being a pain in the ass. i know you don’t like me, and tha-“
you closed the space between you two, instantly laying your lips onto his. you didn’t know what was happening, but you knew you weren’t going to waste this opportunity.
one of his hands found its way to your back, pulling you closer. you felt the other one rest upon your cheek. the only thing that was surfacing in your mind was how good the sensation of his lips on yours felt. it was purely euphoric.
as soon as you both parted lips, you already missed it. “what does this mean? w-what are we?” you ask, voice quieter than usual. his cold hands reached for yours, a nervous expression on his face.
“i really wanna be yours. only if you’ll let me.” his words rang throughout your head, the words not processing.
“i really want you to be mine, carl grimes.”
“then i’m all yours, sweet girl.”
everybody’s falling in love
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astupidweeb69 · 1 month
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hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???
Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader
Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.
I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk
Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:
The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)
The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.
A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.
But Toby doesn't say anything at first.
He doesn't have to.
Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.
He touched you.
Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.
You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.
Luckily they didn't press charges.
You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.
Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.
But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.
Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.
Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.
Red.
Everything is red.
Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.
Toby.
The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.
He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.
And he tells you what he did.
It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.
He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.
He was far from the loser you thought he was.
And you liked it.
Liked that he did that for you.
After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.
You open the door.
Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.
You're blushing too. Blushing for him.
Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.
The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.
It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)
And a reader who's fully on board?
Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.
It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.
But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.
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