#I can't just play games on my phone while I scroll | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lustfulslxt · 3 months

Note

can you make a fic where reader has a secret tumblr account and she’s a pretty popular writer for the sturniolo fandom (matt fics only). she also happens to be dating mr matthew 🤭🤭🤭

anyway she gets a shit ton of reqs from an account (u can pick the username lol) and PPL EAT THEM UPPP they’re dirty filthy naughty requests. one day she’s on matt’s phone and sees the tumblr app and confronts him ab it and they both figure out the other one’s lil secret 🤭

Mr. Wrinkleton - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : freaky freaky freaky

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Looking through my recent activity, I can't help the wide smile that covers my face. Writing on Tumblr has honestly been so fun and exhilarating. I'm only in the Sturniolo fandom, specifically for Matthew, my boyfriend. I came across this app while I was scrolling through comments on TikTok. Just from the way people were talking about it, I knew it was a NSFW type of ordeal. Me being me, I was quick to download it. Let's just say, I do not regret it.

After a couple of weeks of browsing through the Sturniolo hashtag, I decided to go ahead and write something of my own. Simply to say, people ate it up. I find joy in writing half imaginative, half true experiences with my boyfriend, and the love I get makes me proud. Nobody knows Matt and I are together, and even if they did, my account is completely anonymous. I would be mortified if it somehow got out. Matt would probably think I'm a freak, and not a good one.

I have a few 'fans' on my account, some that request a lot of fanfictions. There's one in particular that I love, Mr.Wrinkleton. They send in so many good requests, ones that I love fulfilling. They have a very peculiar imagination, some things I'd love to try with Matt, and some I have tried with him. Thinking back on those moments brings a smile to my lips, those were great nights.

As I lay sprawled out on the bed, Matt sits at his desk, buried in his PC, playing the game with his brothers. He has his headset on, so loud that I can hear the commotion from across the room. Saying that, he can't hear my continuous giggling. Tumblr has definitely become my favorite app, my guilty pleasure.

Setting my phone aside, I saunter over to my boyfriend, placing my hands on his shoulders. He slightly jumps, removing his headset from one ear and shooting me a quick glance before directing his eyes back to the screen in front of him.

"What's up, baby?" He asks, his attention solely on the game. "You good?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Yeah, I'm fine."

I plant a short kiss on his cheek, rubbing his chin a bit, and walk towards the bedroom door. With my hand on the doorknob, I turn back to him just before he places his headset back over his ear.

"Do you want anything from the kitchen?" I ask him.

"What?" He asks, only shooting me another quick glance. A second later, he's yelling at the game. "Bro, you're trash! That was such an easy kill!"

Simply rolling my eyes, I walk out the room. As I walk down the hall, I can hear Matt calling for me, but I just head into the kitchen to grab something to drink. I grab me a bottle of water and Matt a can of root beer before making my way back to the bedroom. I walk in, softly shutting the door, and place the can of soda in front of Matt. I'm about to head back to the bed when his hand catches my wrist, halting me in place.

"Thank you, gorgeous." He says, kissing my hand. "Sorry, I'm super invested in this. We're doing so good right now."

"It's all good." I say, placing a kiss on his head, then make my way back to the comfort of our sheets.

As I lay back down, ready to pick my phone up and continue with my naughty secrets, Matt's phone, on the nightstand table beside me, flashes with a couple of notifications.

"Matt, your phone." I say, only to be ignored. "Matt?"

He doesn't budge, so I pick his phone up to give to him, only to freeze when I see the icon on his screen. I know that icon all too well. There's absolutely no way, I must be seeing things. I dramatically wipe my eyes, glancing back on the glowing screen. It's definitely the same. I unlock his phone and read the notification.

Tumblr @flowerxbunnie liked your post: "wow."

My jaw drops, shock evident on my face. Without a second thought, I click the notification. Once it loads, my jaw drops even more. It's one of the fanfictions I wrote. I'm so confused. Matt has a Tumblr account? There's no way. I hesitantly click on his profile, and if it were possible, my jaw would quite literally be on the floor.

Mr.Wrinkleton.

Is this real life? Am I imagining things? Have I been spending too much time on Tumblr? I close the app and it's still there. I open the app, going back to his profile, and it's still there. Matt is Mr.Wrinkleton. Matt's been sending me dirty requests to write fanfiction about him.

Before I can even stop myself, I'm shrieking, "Matt!"

His head snaps to me, confusion ridden on his face. He takes his headset off and turns towards me.

"What's wrong?"

I can't even form words, so I hold his phone out. He sets his headset down and walks over to me, completely unaware of why I screamed his name. Once he grabs his phone and glances at the screen, every ounce of color drains from his face. His eyes are wide as he stares down at the opened app on his phone.

He looks up at me, his mouth formed into an 'O' shape. "Oh my god. Uh-"

"You have a Tumblr account." I state, as if we haven't established that.

"You weren't supposed to see that." He cringes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Did you read any of that?"

"I didn't have to." I say, because I already knew.

That's when I start hysterically laughing. What are the odds? His face suddenly flushes with a deep red color, his eyes still wide, only now from embarrassment. I can't even form any words because of how hard I'm laughing. I just pick up my phone and open my Tumblr app, handing it to him. His eyes read over the screen, before his head snaps over to me and his mouth is wide open again.

"Are you serious?" He asks, "Am I being pranked right now?"

"Matthew!" I laugh, "You're such a freak!"

Getting over the initial shock, he's now laughing with me. "I'm the freak?! You're the one writing everyone's dirtiest fantasies!"

"Everyone -- including you!" I tease, my laughter growing more.

He nudges my shoulder, his face still beet red, "Shut up!"

Once my giggling subsides, I pull him into me. "So, you like that stuff?"

He swallows, whispering, "Yes."

"Which one's your favorite?" I ask him, my tone soft and sultry.

He shakes his head, an embarrassed smile pulling to his lips. "You're gonna laugh at me."

I pull him onto the bed with me, us sitting side by side. I shake my head, "I would never." Receiving a pointed look from him, that causes me to laugh again, I continue, "Okay, that was different. I just never expected that. But I would never laugh at your fantasies. From what you've requested, they're pretty hot."

He bites his lips, looking down at me, his voice low and husky as he speaks, "Um, that so called witchcraft."

My mouth fell open, surprise taking over my features. I can feel the desire growing between my legs. I love that story, specifically that detail. A sly smirk pulls to my lips as I stare at him. I can tell by the cheeky grin on his face that he can read it all over me, I want to recreate it. He nods his head, beckoning me over to him.

"What about your game?" I ask, standing in between his legs.

"What about it? It'll be there tomorrow." He mutters, running his hands up my shirt.

His cold fingertips trail over my skin, causing me to shiver. He holds my shirt up, peppering soft kisses along my stomach, his tongue trailing in between his lips. His hands run along my back, easily finding the clasp to my bra and unbuckling it. In one swift motion, he pulls my shirt over my head and lets my bra slide down my arms, onto the floor. The cool air hits my nipples, hardening them instantly.

"Such perfect tits." He mumbles, taking them in his hands, massaging them.

"Love your hands on me, baby." I softly moan, indulging in the way he touches me so effortlessly.

He continues groping my boobs and begins kissing all over my stomach, and up my chest. He sticks his tongue out and drags it between the valley of my breasts, causing me to pull my bottom lip between my teeth to minimize the noises threatening to escape. My hands tangle in his hair, softly tugging every so often.

"You don't understand the power you have over me." He groans against my skin, his hands gliding down my body. "Every little thing you do drives me absolutely insane."

A soft moan leaves my mouth at his words. His hands go around to my ass, squeezing my cheeks through my shorts, massaging them in circles. He grabs the waistband of my bottoms and swiftly pulls them down, leaving me in nothing but my panties. His hands trail up my legs, rubbing them from the outside in. The closer he gets to my core, the more desperate I become. The outside of his hand firmly presses against my clothed center as he grazes along my thigh, and I'm suddenly very aware of the damp patch in the cotton fabric.

"Always so easy to get you going." He says, his voice holding a rasp to it.

All that leaves my mouth are small, breathy moans as he continues putting pressure right where I need him. He suddenly stands up, now towering over me. One of his hands wrap around my throat, his other hand full of ass, and he yanks me into him. His lips slam against mine in a hot and needy kiss. Our teeth clash as our lips surround one another, then he shoves his tongue in my mouth, exploring every nook and cranny.

It's always so easy to get lost in his kiss. He never fails to make me feel like I'm floating on clouds, whether it be soft and delicate or wet and sloppy, like right now. It's as if he's sucking my breath from me, and I'm left in a hazy daze, high from the feeling he bestows upon me. Time seems to be standing still around us. After a moment, he pulls away, both of us breathless, strings of saliva connecting our mouths.

"God, I can't wait to make a mess of you." He whispers, his warm breath fanning my face.

He plants a few more kisses on my lips, pulling away to remove his shirt. I gently tug on the waistband of his sweats, indicating I want them off, to which he obliges and strips from them. His hand comes to my face, connecting our mouths once again, his other hand guiding me onto the bed, never breaking our kiss once. He straddles my legs; I can feel his hard on pressing into me. There's only two layers of clothing preventing us from succumbing to our needs, and I know it's only a matter of time before they're lying on the floor with the rest of the discarded items.

Matt pulls away from my mouth, his going straight to my boobs. His lips envelop my nipple, sucking and taking turns between the two. The sensation from his warm, wet mouth on me has me clenching around nothing. Desperate for more, I reach down and grab at his constricted erection. I can feel him throbbing under my touch, and knowing he wants me as bad as I want him turns me to putty.

"Matt." I moan as he grinds his hips against mine, his dick adding much needed pressure to my core.

"Haven't even done anything yet, and you're already a mess under me." He tsks, smirking. "Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna give you what you want."

Without another word, he pulls his boxers down and places his dick on my pussy. He moves back and forth, rubbing over the soaked fabric. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he brushes over my clit, and I can feel myself practically oozing juices. He pulls my panties to the side and continues gliding his dick through my glistening folds.

"So wet and warm for me." He moans.

"All for you. Only you." I agree, my hands gripping the sheets.

Suddenly, he pulls away, causing me to whine at the loss of friction and warmth he provided. He quickly pulls down my panties, throwing them across the room. Sliding up and down my folds a few more times, he's slowly sinking into me. He tosses his head back, a groan emitting from his throat. I squeeze my eyes shut from the pleasure, subconsciously clenching around him.

Placing a hand on my stomach, he starts thrusting in and out, his speed increasing with every stroke. I can't help the moans that fall from my lips, my entire body overcome with ecstasy. He always knows how to make me feel so good. His hand travels up my torso, applying just the right amount of pressure as he goes. His fingers hook into my open mouth, pulling my jaw down, almost as if he was using me as leverage. The moans coming out of me are now broken and muffled seeing as my mouth is now stuffed with his fingers. I take advantage of this and wrap my lips around them, my tongue sliding all around them as I harshly suck.

He bites his lip, suppressing a loud moan, "Fuck. You make me wanna do very dirty things to you."

"What's stopping you?" I moan as his thrusts grew fiercer.

He instantly leans back from me and lifts my legs over his shoulders. He places his hands beside me to hold himself up as he starts drilling into me. The sound of skin slapping echoes around the room, and you can hear how wet I am. He's reaching places only he's ever been, leaving my legs quivering atop of him. My hands grip onto his biceps, my fingernails digging into his skin, surely leaving crescent shapes behind. One of his hands travels between my legs, rubbing fast circles into my clit, causing me to spasm beneath him.

"Oh god." I whine, feeling the intense knot build in my abdomen.

With my repeated clenching around him, his thrusts grow sloppy, and I can tell he's close. Lewd moans leave both of our mouths, our states of mind clouded with bliss. A throaty groan emits from him, before he quickly pulls out and releases his hot load all over my pussy. It feels so good, especially when he rubs his tip over my clit, then pushes back into me.

He only got a few more pumps in when he pulls out with a hiss, "Touch yourself."

I eagerly do as he says, my fingers easily finding my center. Once I come in contact with his cum, I drag my fingers through it, spreading it into my folds. My fingers brush over my clit, causing me to convulse with pleasure. I rub my clit in slow circles, enjoying the feeling of his seed all over me. Gathering more of his nut, I plunge two fingers into my entrance with a loud moan.

Matt's gaze hasn't left me this entire time, his dead eyes full of lust. I notice him repeatedly lick his lips, as if he wants to dive in and devour me, watch me come undone on his tongue. I fuck my fingers into my pussy, eliciting pornographic moans from me. Like he can't take it anymore, Matt removes me hand and replaces it with his own. Two of his fingers pumping in and out of me while his thumb rubs my clit. My entire body is shaking underneath him. He always knew how to make me feel good, better than I ever could. He knows my body inside and out, knowing exactly what to do to make me unravel. And sure enough, the pressure building in my stomach grows until it ruptures.

"Oh, my fucking god." I moan out, my back arching from the bed as I release onto his hand.

He continues fucking his fingers into me a few more times, before pulling out, "Such a pretty sight."

I am spent. Falling back into the bed, I attempt to catch my breath. Watching Matt with tired eyes, I see him slip his two fingers into his mouth, sucking our mix of fluids off. He leans over me and takes me in for a deep kiss, his tongue sliding all over mine, our blended concoction melting into my mouth. I can't help but moan into the kiss.

He then collapses next to me, immediately pulling me into him. "How about whenever we have something new in mind that we want to try, we just give it a shot rather than searching for it in fiction?"

"Agreed." I breathe, weakening into his embrace.

Thank god for Tumblr.

—

a/n : quick shoutout to my baby for the witchcraft idea 🫶🏼🫶🏼 enjoy, love u bunches xx

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo smut #tumblr writer #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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melonnmiru · 8 months

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being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.

he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.

the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.

you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."

"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."

"still hot."

he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.

while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.

wait.

kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"

"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"

the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."

alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.

"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"

"did you just favorite it?"

you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.

"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"

"they're literally edits of me!"

eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.

he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.

"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"

"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."

you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.

"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."

for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.

my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!

#♡ crumpled paper #i dont like this 1 but i cant bring myself to work on it anymore its been like 2 weeks 😭😭#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa fluff

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kazutora-kurokawa · 2 months

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Simon Says, Fuck Me

♡ NSFW, fem reader, smartass!reader, oral->male receiving (more like face fucking lol), spitting in someone's mouth without warning, established relationship, reader can't stop interrupting Baji but Baji likes that about her, Baji is just straight up nasty in this one y'all ♡

Characters: Just Baji (my little arsonist)

note: this lovely little idea was given to me by my equally lovely moot @i-literally-cant-with-this

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You were just laying on your bed relaxing. Your thumb lazily swiped across your phone screen as you scrolled through social media, when all of a sudden your boyfriend ran through the door, out of breath and panting.

"What the hell? Are you good?"

He looked at you and took in a deep breath before speaking.

"Yeah I'm fine! The real question is, do you wanna play Simon Says?"

"Really Kei? That's why you came rushing in here, do I look like I feel like playing?"

"Pretty please y/n? With black cats wearing cute hats on top?"

The look on your boyfriend's face was just too cute to resist. The way his little fangs poked out while he pouted was the kicker, you had no choice but to agree.

"Okay fine! Just out of curiosity, what do I get if I win?"

"Whatever you want. Name it and it's yours!"

"Okay, I can get down with that."

"But if I win-"

"Oh God, why did I agree to this?"

"Babe shush, I'm not done. If I win, I get to tie you up tonight~"

"Absolutely not."

"Too late! You already agreed, now lemme explain the rules to you doll. First off, I'm Simon-"

"No really? I thought you were Edward?"

"Y/nnn!"

"Okay I'm sorry, please continue."

"Okay so I'm Simon, I'm going to tell you what to do-"

"Yeah no shit, that's how the game goes."

Baji loved you wholeheartedly, but sometimes he just wanted to choke the hell out of you because why are you such a smartass? Nevertheless he continued with the rules.

"Yeah but there's a difference. When I tell you to do something, you have to do it. If you don't, then you automatically lose and I win. Got it?"

"So if I don't do everything you say then I lose? That sounds so unfair."

"If you're too much of a wimp to play then we don't have to."

"A wimp? You're tryna egg me on to play aren't you?"

"Is it working?"

"Unfortunately yes, let's just start the game please."

Baji mentally highfived himself before thinking about all the things he could ask you to do, he decided to start off slow and simple though.

"Simon says, touch your nose."

You tapped your finger on the tip of your nose, trying not to giggle at how serious he looked right now.

"Simon says, don't talk for the rest of the game."

You took your hand and made a zipping motion across your lips, signalling silence.

"Simon says, get on your knees."

You were about to say something before you realized that if you talked you would lose, so you once again reluctantly listened to your boyfriend and slid off the bed to get on your knees.

"Simon says, open your pretty little mouth~"

You looked at him as if to say "really?" before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. He walked over to you, admiring the irritated look on your face before leaning down and dropping a glob of spit in your mouth. You held back a gag as you felt his spit hit the back of your throat and promised yourself that you'd punch the shit out of him for catching you off guard like that.

"Good job angel! I really thought you were gonna fold on that one, guess I have to try a little harder."

He looked at you with a smirk that just told you how fucking cocky he is and how confident he was that you were gonna lose. His hands latched onto his pants, undoing them and whipping out his thick cock. You felt choked up just at the thought of him in your mouth right now, but you couldn't help but find how he was acting extremely attractive. The way he could take control of you so quickly made you melt and he knew that. He slapped the tip of his dick on your outstretched tongue, lining it up perfectly with your throat. His hands cupped your face before he gave you another command.

"Simon says, don't gag."

It was evident he wanted you to gag and lose the game by the way he rammed into your mouth, yet you didn't falter. Not when his calloused hands were gripping your face a little too tightly, not when he grabbed fistfuls of your hair, not even when tears threatened to form in your eyes.

"Look at that, you're taking me so good darling. You might just win the game."

He groaned as your throat clenched around him, and between a string of praises and curses he uttered one more command.

"Simon says, make me cum ♡"

If anything it was less of a command and more of a statement considering that he was about to cum anyway. You dug your nails into your thighs as you fought the urge to grab at him. Taking deep breaths as he shot his load down your throat, desperately trying to stay quiet. His grip on your face softened and he pulled out of your mouth. A mix of satisfaction and disappointment could be seen on his face.

"Well darling, I guess you win. What do you want as your prize?"

"I have a few ideas~"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but first I wanna clean my face off."

He looked down at your messy face, and the grin he had only got bigger as he saw how you were covered in drool and some of his cum.

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea."

He helped you up off the floor and watched as you started walking to the bathroom before you suddenly stopped in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Hey Kei, one more thing."

"What?"

"Remind me to never play a game with you ever again."

He chuckled as you walked out, knowing that no matter how many times you say that, he'd rope you into playing another game.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @kazubarbie @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #baji smut #baji x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #he's so fucking hot #this man is scrumptious lmao #Idgaf if he's a fire starting gang member he's my pookie wookie mookie fr #Sarah you ate real bad with this idea 😮‍💨

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rinhaler · 6 months

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your plug!sukuna is the kind of shithead to make yuji smell his fingers after fingering you ✨

THIS IS SO GROSS PENNY HOLY FUCK IM GONNA KILL YOU 😭 like this is actually foul I might call the police HAHAH

lil drabble bc ily biiiish

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering mention, blood mention, cheating, NOT canon in my AITA universe jus a lil what if ig

The three of you are all sitting together while you're scrolling through your phone and they're playing some stupid online shooter together on the couch. You know you fucked up when Sukuna keeps stealing glances every chance he gets, but you do your best to focus on whatever is going on on your phone. But you know Sukuna, his stare is intense and commanding, so you can't help but look back when you know he's looking.

It's only been an hour since Yuuji was at work and Sukuna had been fingering fucking you until the air in your lungs depleted. Each plunge of his fingers had your eyes rolling back and your own fingers digging so hard into his bicep it drew blood.

And when he starts tilting his head in his little brothers direction, you know exactly what he's thinking of doing. Your begging eyes do little good. In fact it only spurs him on more. You can't bear the thought of Yuuji finding out what you did.

"Hey," Sukuna starts, bumping into his brother slightly to get his attention. Your boyfriends tongue sticks out in concentration as he focuses on shooting. But he offers a quiet, 'huh?' in response. "Smell my fingers." he laughs, wrapping an arm around Yuuji to keep him in place as he forces his thick fingers under his little siblings nose.

"Knock it off, cheater!" Yuuji yells as he tries to shake himself free from his brother's grip. The word brings a sinister smile to Sukuna's face while you feel your stomach drop into your ass.

"Smell, quick, just fucking sniff." he orders Yuuji. He pauses the game and Yuuji grabs his hand and takes a strong inhale. He pulls a face, confused, not really smelling much of anything. Though he notes it's slightly tangy.

"What's the deal?" Yuuji asks. "What am I smelling? It better not be your ass."

"No," Sukuna laughs. "Fingered a nasty little slut earlier, that's all."

Yuuji scoffs, shoving him away and going back to focus on his game. Sukuna laughs, heartily, holding his stomach. You glower at him, but you've learnt by now that what you do and say has little impact on him.

"You're not funny, my girlfriend's right there, man." he looks at you when he finishes speaking, mouthing the word 'sorry' to you, much to the amusement of his elder brother.

"Oh, Yuuji, that's embarrassing." Sukuna grins, "You don't know what your own girlfriend smells like?"

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suiana · 5 months

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Hiiii! I discovered your blog recently and I’m loving it!!!!

Can I request a yandere who’s your younger brother best friend? (you’re both adults ofc)

He always had a crush on you but you always brush it off as some innocent little crush until your parents and your brother went on vacations (you couldn’t go cause you had to work) and he offered to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. And in the middle of the night he gets in bed with you while you’re sleeping and touches you

I'm sorry if this too specific 😅

(yandere younger brother's best friend x gn! reader) (cw: implied nsfw+stealing+drugging+slight somno, yandere stuff, manipulation)

you know the weird feeling you get in your gut whenever you sense something off?

yeah, you're currently feeling it.

and it's weird because... you're home alone. well not alone, your younger brother and his best friend are home.

but they're playing some game, holed up in his room so technically you're alone. so why are you feeling a sense of dread? did you leave the stove on? did you forget to submit some assignment? were you going to get killed?

...

nah, that can't be it.

you must just be overthinking. everything's fine after all.

maybe you're just tired. what you need is sleep.

so that's what you did, you turned off the television, walked to your room, got in bed, and went to sleep.

but when you woke up a few hours later, the feeling of anxiety only increased.

you woke up in cold sweat, shivering in your bed as you looked around. nothing was off, nothing at all. but why was your body on high alert? why?

your eyes took in every crevice of your room, trying to see if there was an intruder of sorts. nothing. wait, were those a pair of eyes in your closet? no way.

you blink several times and they were gone.

...maybe you need a drink. yeah, a drink.

you got out of bed, hand clutching your phone as you walked to the kitchen. pouring yourself a glass of water, you nervously scrolled tiktok to ease your nerves. but it didn't work. if anything, it only served as a reminder of how quiet the house was, even with the presence of two other guys-

what was that?

nervously turning around, your eyes were wide open as you prepared for the worst. that sounded like glass breaking! what if someone broke in- oh, it was just your younger brother's best friend...

you immediately let out a sigh of relief, not even bothering to notice how his hands were clenching around something that look oddly like your underwear and how his cheeks were flushed way too red for this cold weather.

"you scared me."

you laugh, drinking your glass of water as your brother's best friend chuckles awkwardly in response. well, at least the weird feeling in your stomach seemed to disappear. not totally but it wasn't as present as it once was.

"uh, sorry about that. just wanted to stretch my legs."

he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, looking away from your face as he chews on his bottom lip. you smile at his response, shaking your head slightly as you walk back to your room. he was always awkward around you. this behavior was normal.

"yeah, don't worry about it! remember to tell my brother to drink some water, yeah? you too!"

you remind with a slight grin before patting him lightly on the shoulder. he flinches at the contact before calming down. huh, was he on edge too? he never flinches... especially when you touch him. weird.

whatever, maybe he was feeling extra paranoid today too. you soon got back into bed, laughing at your paranoia as he weird feeling in your stomach seems to gradually disappear.

and you even managed to fall asleep not too long after! how amazing!

and irritatingly convenient. it's almost like you were considerate for him and his obsession with you.

he soon slips back into your room, crouching beside your bed as he stares intently at your figure. his cheeks are flushed as he gently strokes your cheek with shivering fingers.

ah, you were so adorable when you got all scared and worked up. and he even got a front row seat to your fear through the gap of your cupboard! shit, do you know how hard he had to hold himself back from moaning out loud at the sight?

but it doesn't matter anymore. not when you were fast asleep.

god you looked so sweet like this, all passed out and vulnerable...

it was a little hard to get your brother to drink the intoxicated drink but the fact that he got to see this... ah, it was so damn worth it.

his hands trail down to your pretty lips, playing with them before he stops. his head drops as he lets out a soft sigh. his pants were painfully tight right now...

he then looks back at you, chewing on his bottom lip. you... wouldn't mind, right? he wouldn't be doing anything to you so... he's just doing it beside you!

if anything, it should be fine because you two would be dating soon anyways! it's fine... at least it's what he tells himself.

it's fine.

he repeats as his hand goes to undo his belt.

it's fine.

he mutters as his hand clutches your bed sheets.

it's fine.

he moans as he strokes your face.

yeah, of course it would be fine. you were meant to be his after all. he was just doing what any boyfriend would do when their significant other turns them on!

but it wasn't enough.

he shouldn't do more. he knows it. but... he can't help himself. he'll just touch your cute face a bit more... and stain your sheets a weird white...

and he's sorry that he's doing it but you were just so pretty! if anything... it's your fault! how dare you tempt him even in your sleep.

don't worry, it's not like you'll remember his touches when you wake up... plus, he didn't even do anything too drastic so... it's not that bad, right?

as long as you didn't suspect him, everything would be fine.

so just don't think too much and... don't listen to your gut, okay?

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere younger brother's best friend #yandere younger brother's best friend x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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lolitaa-17 · 5 months

Text

The Worst

Toji x Reader | warnings: creampie, breeding, ermmm idk figure it out.

You wipe off all the snow that was on your coat before entering the cabin. It was Christmas eve and months ago you all (Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Nobara, Yuji, and Toji) decided to spend time together at Gojo's cabin.

"Hi." You smiled at everyone as you open the door, revealing Geto and Gojo attempting to make gingerbread houses. Nobara, Yuji and Megumi making hot chocolate. And finally Toji with of course...another women.

You roll your eyes and take off your coat. Gojo and Geto too focused on the gingerbread houses to even notice you, until Yuji yelled out "She's here!!" which caught the attention of everyone. Yuji pulled you into a big hug. Following Nobara and Megumi, and of course Suguru and Satoru. Toji sitting there watching you with his women wrapped around his arms.

You throw him a little awkward wave before walking into the kitchen with the kids. "He just met her yesterday, and he'll probably leave her tomorrow." Megumi whispered quietly as you got closer. You couldn't help but laugh at his comment.

"What took you so long to get here anyway?" Satoru says wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You could feel Toji burning your back with his gaze. "Work, they've been nonstop recently." You sigh taking the hot chocolate that Nobara passed to you. "I say you quit and become Satoru's trophy wife." she says making a heart sign with her hand at you and Satoru.

"Gross, not Sensei." Megumi says softly slapping Nobara's hand. "Let's not bring dating up actually, because someone looks a little..." Suguru says whispering to you and Satoru. You slightly turn to see Toji scrolling on his phone ignoring the women he brought. "Hey um Juliet..right?" Yuji asked.

She looked so happy that we even looked at her, You felt bad for her. She was young and Toji was manipulative. It was the worst combo. She had her life ahead of her. "Yeah!" she tries to get up but Toji grabs her arm "Sit." and so she does.

"Toji, let her go. She looks bored." You say walking towards them. He looks up at your face. He missed it, those doe eyes, those plump lips, they way your hair touched your face. He gets up not taking his eyes off yours "Go ahead then." He pushed passed you making his way out the front door.

"Thank you! I'm Juliet by the way...I haven't gotten your name yet..." She waited and looked at you for to respond. "Y/n.." you smiled and her eyebrows crashed. "Oh so you're the one Toji always talks about." you sighed.

"Let's go join the others...yeah?" You say changing the topic. She followed you with a small smile plastered on her face. She looked happy just to be here.

Time passed and Toji was still outside. You sigh a little worried. "I'm gonna go check on Toji." before you got up from the couch Juliet stops you. "I'll go with you."

"Juliet wait can you be my parnter for the game that we're playing?" Megumi says trying to stop her from going with you. He looked at her with those same manipulative pleading eyes his dad had. So how could she say no.

You walk towards Toji's Tacoma. It was black...the windows were very tinted but you knew he was in there. You knocked on the window and immediately the window opened. "What the hell do ya want now?" it smelled like cigarettes. "I was just checking in on you." you softly said still intimidated by just his presence. "Well here I am? So bye." You rolled your eyes and turned around walking away from his car.

"Actually y/n.." Your stop and turn around. "Go tell the others that we're gonna go buy booze, Satoru and Suguru have been begging me."

So here you are, sitting in his car while the music is blasting, of course Toji lets you put on your music. He secretly has the same playlist you do and plays it in the car only when your not around.

He stops at a rest area and shifts his gaze towards you before tunring the music down, "I miss you." You nod "No Toji you can't keep doing this." You look out the window trying to stop yourself from tearing up. "Doing exactly what?" He raises his voice.

"You fucking tell me you miss me and you treat me the same every time!" You look at him as the tears finally fell. His gaze soften. He sighs "I've fucking changed baby, I try to find you in everyone I meet." He wipes your tears and traces his thumb over your lips.

"Bringing another women to spite tonight was one way to fuck up already." You grab his hand not letting go. "So it worked?" He smirked. You rolled your eyes pushing his hand "I still fucking love you!"

"Come here." he pats his lap. "No." you say wiping your tears. "Take your coat off and c'mere." He was captivating, his dominance was something you definitely missed.

He grabs your waist gripping it tightly. "You have no idea how long i've been waiting to see you today." You just looked at Toji, not saying one word, until he started kissing your neck. "Is this what you want out of me?" He pulled away giving you the most offended look.

"Is that what you fucking think?" He lets go of your waist. "Toji I didn't mean it like that, it's just every time-"

"Get off me." He demanded.

He drove back to the cabin after grabbing the booze for Satoru and Suguru. The car ride was silent the whole time. Til you finally arrived, "Give this to them and get Juliet for me." You snatched the drink from him and slammed the car door.

Megumi and Yuji shared a room, while Nobara had her own. "Y/n we didn't know that you and Toji were gonna, well break up so you're gonna have to share." Gojo says a bit awkwardly.

"Hmm just sleep with Satoru, His bed is massive." Geto says before taking one big sip of the whiskey. "No. I'll just sleep in the living room, the couches are somewhat comfy."

All the lights were off, the only light was coming from the massive Christmas tree. You felt guilty for saying what you said to Toji, but it was partially true. You were anxious, how late it was getting and he hadn't arrived yet.

Just as if he heard your thoughts, you could see the headlights pulling up to the front of the Cabin. You quickly close your eyes as soon as you heard the front door opening. You could hear the rustling of him taking his coat and shoes off. Until it stopped, now all you heard were his steps getting closer and closer.

"Come on lets go to the room." He whispers as he slowly pats your shoulder. "Toj-" he huffed, "Y/n it wasn't a fucking question, cmon." You got up and followed behind him. The doors opened revealing the cozy room with presents all over the bed. "Toji...did you do all this?" you asked looking up at him as he loomed behind you now.

"Mhm" he takes off his shirt leaving him only in his grey sweatpants. You could sense that he was still mad. He pushed a couple presents and laid down on the bed. "My love, look I'm sorry at the unnecessary comment earlier. I was just mad..." You grab his face and make him look at you. "Open the gifts goddamnit."

You kiss him before sitting next to him on the bed. You wore the shortest booty shorts you could find paired with a grey tanks top. You notice Toji glaring at you, "You're really bugging me." He puts one of the decorative pillows on top of his lap.

You rolled your eyes and started opening the gifts, a bunch of different expensive perfumes, Lingerie and expensive jewelry. You move the pillow and stratal him. "I love all of this, but Toji I just really want you, I want to start over."

You could feel his rock hard dick under you. Just the feeling of him already had you soaking. "Then lets start over." He leans in and pecks your lips. You tired pulling away but his started kissing you more aggressively. The small grunts coming out of his mouth as he feels you slowly grinding on his clothed dick.

"Fuck" you pull away from the messy make out session and started removing your shirt. How Toji sat there admiring your breast. Taking one and massaging it as he sucks the other one. You lean you head back and soft moan. "Lay down." You hear Toji whisper. so you listen.

He slides off your panties, he slides down to meet your wet cunt thats been waiting to see him. "Sit on me." he looks up at you. "Toji, No I don't want to hur-" He scoffs "Look at you and look at me...sit on me."

"Fuck." You moan as his tongue constantly makes contact with the little pearl with his tongue. You grab a handful of his hair as you hear the loud slurping noise. You look down and you see how small you are compared to Toji. It turned you on, you loved how big Toji was. It made you feel comfortable and safe yet so scared.

"T-Toji f..fuck me already." You gasp and he fastened his tempo with his tongue. You couldn't help but squirm closing your legs tighter and tighter but you were scared you were gonna suffocate Toji.

"Fuck Toji m'done, i wan you inside me." So he stops and tosses you on your stomach. "I fucking miss this ass." He smacks your ass causing you to moan. He spreads open your wet pussy lips before sliding his sweats down revealing his lengthy fat veiny dick. You were looking back as he was getting ready to fuck you.

"m'gonna fuck you so hard." He whispers before thrusting hard into you. "Fucmm" You dig your head into the pillow as he thrusted in with no warning, its been a while, getting used to his dick. "I fucking needed you.." Toji threw his head back as he kept thrusting into you. He looked at you, how quiet and muffled your moans were. He slid a pillow under your stomach and grabbed your by the neck causing you to look up.

"T-Toji stahh.." you bit your lip as the pleasure kept going constantly. With every grunt you heard coming out of Toji, the faster he went. Slapping your ass occasionally. "f..fuck how about I fucking making your pregnant." He says as he feels himself getting ready to cum.

"Pleasmm Toji." You bite your lips. "I wan..it" you gasp. "M'yeah? You wan hold m'fucking kids?" His thrust getting harder and deeper, his tip constantly hitting the gushy spot in your pussy . "Mmhmm, yes i wan it." You moan.

"Fuck." he says letting his load spill inside your pussy. Finally puling out and dropping right next to you. "Fuck Toji." You try to catch your breath. "I've missed it, you, your scent. I missed all of it. I love you so fucking much. I don't ever want to let you go." You lazily smile at him "Cute...clean me up."

He laughs and gets up to grab a rag to clean you.

"The Christmas miracle was Toji and Y/n getting back together." Satoru says noticing how touchy Toji had been with you all morning. Nobara rolls her eyes, "Make her a trophy wife, or someone else will." Suguru butts in "I don't think that's gonna be a problem considering they plan on having a-" Toji smacks him on the head. "Shut up."

You embarrassingly walk away from them walking to the Kitchen where Megumi had been making himself a tea. "I'm glad you gave him another chance, the amount of times he would nonstop talk about you was getting annoying, no offense." You laughed, "What are you fucking saying little boy?" Megumi grabbed his mug, "Nothing, I made you a coffee already y/n its on the counter." You grabbed the coffee as Toji wrapped his big arms around your waist.

"He says that about me but he low key misses you too." He chuckles leaning in kissing you passionately. "Mm yeah? Well like father like son." you smile as he gives you that look that you loved, his sly smirk.

#fushiguro toji #jjk smut #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #fushiguro #smut #drabble

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captainfern · 7 months

Text

141Rugby!au [18+]

• Part One - Pink Tape •

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.

chapter summary - your introduction to the rugby union team and your new job as their physiotherapist. and the team winger ensures you have a warm welcome lol.

rating - 18+

wordcount - 7k

chapter warnings - fem!reader, slow-ish burn [but not really cause ik you're here for the porn], gaz has insane rizz in this, f!masturbation, oral [f!receiving], fingering?, praise, strong language

disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3

Gaz is a winger, or wing – fast, agile and play on the "wing" or outside edges of the field. this position tends to score the greatest number of tries.

see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words

part two ->

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

When you received the phone call that you had been hired by one of the best rugby union teams in England, you were overjoyed.

It was a dream come true to be a physiotherapist for a professional sports team, and although you were excited to be apart of such an incredible work environment, you were also excited to see a significantly higher amount of money enter your bank account on paydays.

Your first day, you woke up earlier than usual, a good twenty minutes before your alarm. Nerves swirled in your stomach as you got ready for the day, completing your usual morning routine and getting dressed. Putting on the team's colours, with staff across the back made a smile grow wide across your face. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a while, butterflies fluttering rapidly around your stomach as the time ticked closer to the start of your workday.

Before you headed out, you pulled out your phone and searched the team up one last time. You tapped on the first link, and then proceeded to find the team list that had every player and their statistics available to the public. Their age, height, weight, the amount of games they've played, the amount of tries they've scored. In most of the photos, the players were posing in ways that made you roll your eyes– pointing at the camera, shouting with a fist in the air, pointing at the logo on their jersey with a huge grin. You couldn't help but laugh a little.

As you scrolled, perched on the end of your bed, four specific players caught your attention, your thumb hovering over your screen before you could scroll on. There was just something about them that made them stand out, even when they looked similar to everyone else– the same shirt, same background in the photo, same layout of statistics between them.

The scrum-half was posing like many of the others– pointing dead at the camera, a cocky grin on his face. In the photograph, he had a freshly shaven mohawk, too, the sides trimmed neat and the strands on top sitting perfectly on top of his head, as though he had got himself all done-up for picture day. Even in the photograph, you could tell simply by the way he grinned at the camera that he'd be cocky on the field. All good scrum-halves were, to be fair.

The winger held a finger to his lips, shushing the camera with a slight quirk in his lips, as though he was trying not to laugh when the camera went off. He was the only player wearing a cap, one with a Union Jack printed on the front, and you wondered whether he was allowed to do that, or he somehow managed to just keep quiet and get away with it. What amazed you the most though was the sheer amount of tries he had for his age. He was one of the younger players of the team, but his try-count for the previous season was impressive.

The number eight made your eyebrows shoot up as you took in the sheer broadness of him. His shoulders barely fit into frame, and he had his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps and pectorals grow bigger in front of the camera. He had a passive look on his face, dark blond hair recently cropped by the look of it, and one of his eyes was bruised and slightly swollen– a recent black eye. His arms were huge, one tattooed, and you couldn't help but stare a little longer at the expanse of his chest before scrolling on.

The flanker, and captain, was the fourth player that caught your attention, especially with his neatly-kept facial hair. Like the number eight, he had his arms folded across his chest and his face was void of a smile or a wink. He looked serious, definitely, and you wondered what kind of a captain he was to the rest of his team. He was in his late thirties and would be probably nearing retirement, but he had played a large number of games over the years, so his experience would be unmatched.

You looked up briefly at the small time at the top of your phone screen, and jumped to your feet when you realised that, holy shit, you had to go. It'd be so embarrassing if you were late on your first day of work.

Quickly, and with first-day nerves churning in your stomach, you grabbed your bag and all that you needed before sprinting out the door, the cool morning air kissing your skin as the sun peaked over the horizon.

•º•º•

Meeting the team was even more nerve-wracking than you thought. When you arrived, the coach welcomed you and gave you a rundown of all you needed to know about the players and other staff. He then introduced you to the other staff, assistant coaches, team physicians and nurses, sport directors and personal trainers. There were so many people that worked with this team behind the scenes, it almost made you feel a bit out of place.

Sure, you were qualified and literally one of the best sporting physiotherapists in the United Kingdom, but the idea of working with such an infamous team was making doubts worm into your head. You shook your head and took a deep breath as the coach led you into the main meeting room of the stadium, where the players talked strategy and game plan between games and during the off-season.

The room was full of players, nearly forty of them if you had to make an estimate. The main thirty-three, including the starting fifteen and the bench, as well as other players that looked to be recovering from injury or training to become apart of the main squad in the next season.

The murmur of conversation died down when you and the coach entered the room, and you suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious as all eyes fell onto you. The coach stood beside you, patting a comforting hand on your shoulder as he got his players attention with a short whistle.

"Lads, meet our new physio," he said, and then introduced you by name, urging you to smile and offer a polite wave to the crowd of sportsman sitting in front of you. The coach continued. "She's bloody good at her job, so she'll be able to get you lot into working shape quick as a flash. But, that doesn't mean you can go 'round acting like idiots and getting hurt by doing stupid shit–"

You laughed to yourself as the coach divulged into a very coach-like rant, grilling the players about looking after themselves and taking care of their bodies, especially with the start of the new season rapidly approaching. They all needed to be in top shape.

"And remember," the coach said, and then pointed at you. "Physiotherapists are not doctors or nurses, so don't be crying to her with a cut finger, got it? You roll an ankle or strain your neck, or something– god forbid– worse than that, then you make an appointment to see her, got it?"

There was a collective murmur of acknowledgment from the team, many eyes still focusing on you. You smiled politely, and thanked them for their time before the coach was gently leading you back out of the room and into the spacious hallway. The walls here were lined with photos and trophy cabinets detailing every win and award this team has ever had.

The coach shook your hand one last time. "It's a pleasure to have you on, miss. I appreciate you taking the job at such short notice, too. Our last physio..."

You stifled a laugh at the disbelief on the coach's face. "What?"

"Our last physio got scared off," the coach almost laughed. "She was an older lady, real nice too, and had been with us for a while. But we've got a new wave of younger players that do stupid shit and get themselves hurt, so she wasn't exactly happy when they'd turn up every day with a new muscle to be strapped up."

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. "How was she scared off? Surely a bunch of twenty-something year old union players aren't the scariest of people."

"You'd be surprised," the coach joked. "Nah, I'm kidding. She retired, but what I said is true. A lot of the younger players'll probably be knocking at your office door within the next couple of weeks, so prepare yourself for that. Most of them you can just give an icepack and send them on their way, though."

You smiled, nodding. "Right, sounds easy enough."

The coach smiled too. "You will probably have regulars, too, by the way. Players that have had pretty bad injuries that need weekly physio, but the info's all in your books. If you have any questions, come and find me. Or ask Price, I'm sure he'll help you."

"Price?"

"The captain. John," the coach said. "Most of the boys call him Price, or cap, but you can call him whatever you feel comfortable with."

You nodded, eyes drifting down the hallway, admiring the gleam of the silver and gold trophies stacked in trophy cases along the wall. You turned back to the coach. "Do a lot of the players have preferred names?"

"Some, yeah," the coach nodded. "But they'll tell you when you get to know them a bit more. And don't stress if you don't remember names within the first week or so. You have plenty of time to get used to it."

You smiled, the nerves in your stomach beginning to ease. "Thanks, coach."

After the talk in the hallway, the coach led you to your office, which had a large window overlooking the training grounds. The field was in immaculate condition, mowed to perfection with a light veil of due covering the grass. The white goalposts reflected a couple of fragments of golden, early-morning sunlight.

Your office was a good size, which surprised you. You had your desk and shelving units that were stocked full of books and folders, no doubt about each player's injury record for the past hundred-odd years. And on the other side of the room, the carpeted floor shifted to linoleum, cabinetry and a medical bed placed in the centre of it. There was a door beside it, no doubt leading to the cupboard where all your physio equipment would be kept.

"Is this alright?" The coach asked, gesturing to the room.

"Is this alright?" You said in slight disbelief, looking around the room. "This is amazing. Thank you so much."

The coach smiled again. "No worries. Come get me if you need anything but otherwise, good luck and have a great first day."

He left the room and allowed you to be alone with your thoughts for a moment. You took a deep, calming breath, taking a good look around the room. You then looked out the window, where the players were now jogging out onto the field for their first practise of the season. You smiled softly, watching them interact with each other, throwing balls and pushing the scrum-machine out onto the field.

The nerves in your tummy were almost completely gone now. You were going to be just fine.

•º•º•

Your first two weeks were eventful, especially when getting used to a whole new working environment. You spent most of the time researching current players injury history, particularly those who had repeat injuries, or injuries that required extensive physio over the season. A couple of sprained ankles, a few over-worked muscles in the back and shoulders, even a torn ACL which had been receiving extensive physiotherapy for the last one and a half years.

Early into your third week with the team is when you met Gaz.

He had sauntered into your office with the sun streaming through your window, the rest of the team out doing warm-up drills on the training field below. He smiled widely at you, flashing his perfect teeth, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

He wanted to make an appointment for a possible strain to his wrist. He emphasised that it had happened over the weekend after a bit too much to drink. You asked him to elaborate and he simply told you he fell out a window. A window.

"How on earth do you just fall out a window?" You asked, beginning to book his appointment on your computer.

He shrugged, eyes watching you carefully. "Not sure. Can't remember much."

"I thought you weren't meant to be drinking during the season?"

He smiled bashfully. "Yeah, I'm not. You're not going to tell coach, are you?"

He battered his eyelashes, and you rolled your eyes. "I won't. But I'll take a look at your wrist now, if you want."

Of course he wanted you too.

You deducted that it was simply a strain, and nothing that a good, tight bandaging won't fix. You bandaged him up and told him he was good to go.

"Will... will I need to come back to make sure it's healing well?"

"No," you told him. "It's a pretty simple strain. Just make sure to change the bandages, especially after training. You should only have to wear the bandages for a week or two."

"Uh..." He looked from his wrist, back to you. "I... I don't know how to wrap my own bandages."

You raised your brows. "Really? A rugby union player can't tape himself up?"

He shrugged. "Nope."

You sighed, shaking your head. How was it possible that a professional sports player couldn't wrap a simple sprain-wrap around his wrist?

"Fine," you conceded, patting him gently on the arm and slowly leading him towards your door. "I can change it after each practise, but you should definitely learn how to do it yourself, okay?"

Gaz beamed. "Thanks, doc."

"I'm not a doctor, Kyle," you said. "I'm a physio."

"Same thing," he smiled wider. "See you after practise, doc."

And that's what happened. For the next two weeks.

He claimed he just couldn't wrap it himself. It hurt too much, you see. You were the only one who could wrap it secure enough that he felt safe to play.

"I thought I told you to learn to do this yourself, Kyle." You said, wrapping fresh pink tape around his wrist, smoothing your fingers across his hand and lower arm in the process. It was just a few days after he initially came to you.

"You can call me Gaz, doc," he corrected, eyes watching your hands. He trailed the movement of your fingers, before his eyes shifted upwards and scanned your face. He watched you with his warm brown eyes as you fixed the strapping tape into place. "And I just can't seem to do it as well as you."

You scoffed. "Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, Gaz. You need to learn to do simple strapping by yourself, got it?"

"Will you be proud of me when I finally learn?" Gaz joked, eyes still on your face as you finished strapping his wrist.

"Very," you said, pulling away and examining your handiwork. It was good, as usual. "Does that feel secure enough."

Gaz was still looking at you, his eyes drifting over your face as you looked down at his wrist. He hummed a reply, and that prompted you to look up and meet his gaze.

"Gaz?" You questioned. "Does that feel good?"

The warmth of your fingertips ghosted over the pink tape, and Gaz could feel the ticklish sensation beneath it, his skin warming beneath the bandage. "Oh, yeah," he blinked, then looked down at his wrist. "I– what–? Doc, pink tape?"

You smiled. "What's wrong with pink?"

"Nothing, nothing," Gaz shook his head. "Yeah, uh, that feels good. Thanks."

•º•º•

The very first game of the season came in your fourth week as the team's physiotherapist. It was against a team from Scotland, that had travelled down to play the team on English soil.

You found yourself skimming your teeth nervously along your nails, your stomach drawing tight and heart racing as you sat on the bench beside a couple of medics, their medical bags at their feet. The sky was a steely grey, the smell of rain lingering in the air and the wind picking up a tad, blowing icy wind across the field. No doubt, if the rain decided to fall today, the field would turn to mud.

The game was held in a much smaller stadium than usual, not like Twickenham in London that could fit upwards of 80,000 people. Nevertheless, the stands were packed full of whistling and cheering spectators. The shouting and waving of colourful flags increased when the teams jogged out onto the field in a line, and you found yourself clapping alongside the crowd. You found Gaz immediately, his wrist bound in white tape rather than the pink tape you had bound it in a couple of days ago. You smiled to yourself, realising that he had bandaged it up himself.

You hummed to the national anthem, too nervous to open your mouth and sing. You had watched this team play a million times before, but this was different. The anxieties were stacking up within your conscious, and you wondered whether it would have been better to have a strong drink before you came.

The game started and within minutes, Gaz had the ball. He avoided one, then two opposition players, before breaking into a sprint along the sideline. You watched him speed past the bench, the benched players up on their feet and cheering. But it was short lived– Gaz was spear-tackled by one of the Scottish players, tumbling off the field and skidding through the grass. The crowd and bench turned from cheering, to jeering.

You sprung to your feet to get a better look, watching as the Scottish player helped Gaz to his feet, giving him a firm slap on the back as Gaz handed him the ball. He looked pissed off as he jogged back onto the field as the Scottish players readied their lineout. You watched as he rubbed at his wrist, flexing his fingers a few times with a grimace on his face.

"Ah, shit..." you mumbled, noticing the way he held his wrist close to his body. Some of the bandaging was slowly peeling away, making you sigh through your nose. Maybe you should have just done it for him, for goodness sake.

England won the lineout, and the ball was passed rightwards through the team. The captain grabbed the ball from the air, taking it to ground as two Scottish players wrapped their arms around his legs and midriff. Other members of his team came to his aid, a ruck building as more and more players attempted to volley the ball back into their possession. But England held on, with Gaz spotting an opportunity when the ball was popped out of the ruck by the scrum-half with the mohawk.

Gaz broke into a sprint just as the scrum-half turned and saw him, throwing an impressive pass over the top of other players' heads. The entire bench let out a sound of astonishment when Gaz leaped, snatching the ball from the air with one hand and managing to hold onto it. The crowd erupted into cheers as the winger dodged one Scottish player, and then took off down the sideline once more.

Take two, and he seemed to be more successful– speed building until opposing players were dropping behind, unable to keep up as his legs blurred with his pace, grass kicked up behind him. He reached the try-line, diving through the air near the corner and slamming the ball down, his body sliding through the grass behind it. The crowd cheered louder, and so did the bench– and you, too. You were on your feet alongside the subbed players and the other medics, clapping as both the captain and the scrum-half ran up alongside Gaz, patting him on the back and the top of the head.

Sitting back down as one of the water-boys ran the tee out for the conversion, you looked up to find Gaz running towards the sideline, beckoning at you to come closer.

You scooped up your medical bag and met him just over the sideline.

"What's wrong?" You asked, and Gaz answered you by outstretching his arm, offering his wrist to you. The tape was beginning to peel off, brushing against his forearm, and Gaz's brows were pinched, jaw clenched.

"It's painful still?" You asked another question as you quickly began to unwrap the tape.

He nodded, wincing when you ripped the rest of the tape off, taking a couple of his arm hairs with it. You whispered an apology as you kneeled down, unzipping your bag and pulling out a fresh roll of injury tape– bright pink, of course. You heard him groan as you stood back up, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"What's with you and pink tape, doc?" He asked you, voice a bit hoarse. Probably from yelling at his fellow teammates over the past ten minutes. The boys all tended to just shout at each other when they wanted something done, which you found incredibly amusing.

"I like pink," you told him, making quick work of re-taping his wrist as the kicker lined up his kick and concentrated on his conversion. Your eyes flicked up to Gaz's face for a moment. "I thought you said you didn't mind me using pink tape?"

Gaz offered you a cheeky smile, and you realised the two of you were quite close. You could see the thin layer of sweat covering his dark skin, his face glistening beneath the strong overhead lights. He flashed his charming smile as he began slowing his breathing, moving out of puffs, the rise and fall of his chest calming. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and smell the light tang of sweat beneath his cologne.

You felt something flutter in your stomach as a smile stretched onto your face. It didn't last, and you immediately felt embarrassed– instead, you dropped your head back down and quickly finished strapping the bandage just as the kicker converted a successful two points.

"No, I like pink," Gaz said after a prolonged pause, eying you carefully as you stepped away and scooped your medical bag off the ground. "It reminds me of you, actually. And it might be my good luck charm, you never know."

You scoffed, shaking your head as you backed off the field. "Whatever, Garrick."

Gaz flashed his smile again. "If I score another try, it'll be because of this pink tape." Then, he winked and jogged back to where the game reset was taking place.

You found yourself shaking your head, smiling to yourself as you return to the bench. A good luck charm. Whatever.

•º•º•

A couple of hours later, you were back in your office, running through a few extra things before heading home. The team would have nearly finished celebrating their 31 – 14 win, and would soon begin to head home, ready for a new day of training in a couple of days time.

Typing one last report into your computer, there was a knock at your door. It opened, and Gaz stuck his head in.

"Hard at work, doc?" He asked, slipping into the room. He gently shut the door behind him, leaning up against it.

You smiled at him. "I'm finishing one last report, then I'm heading home for the night. Are you boys finished your celebrations?"

Gaz grinned. "Yeah, just about. Just thought I'd pop over and say thank you for redoing my bandages.”

You noticed he looked bashful when he said it, his eyes darting away from yours when the words left his mouth, roaming around your office. His eyes found the medical bed in the corner of the room, staring at it as he finished his sentence.

"It's okay, Gaz, don't worry," you told him, reassured him. "It's my job, anyway." You finished with a laugh, and his dark eyes found yours again. You began packing up your belongings when he shuffled further into the office, his wrist on full display. The pink tape was soggy and mud-stained, and you frowned at him when he held it out to you like a shy child showing they had broken something.

You didn't say anything. You didn't have too. You simply beckoned him towards you, urging him around the desk as you picked up a half-used roll of pink tape from one of your desk drawers. You made him peel the old bandage off.

"I don't understand how you got that so... wet," you remarked, casting a look of disgust at the old bandage now sitting in the waste-paper basket near the base of your desk. "This tape is meant to be water-proof."

Gaz barked out a quiet laugh. "It's probably got a bit of beer on it. And I did spend... you know, a bit of time in the shower, rinsing off the mud and all that."

"Right..." You mumbled, slowly wrapping the pink tape around his wrist.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, except for the low buzzing of the overhead light, and the distant voices from other players beginning to go home.

Gaz watched you silently, his eyes never once leaving your face as you wrapped his wrist. You felt the weight of his stare, the warmth of his gaze, and it made your body slowly begin to heat up, something tight pulling in the base of your gut. You ignored him at first, focussing solely on reapplying the tape. But when you had finished, you made the mistake of looking up and into his deep, dark eyes while still standing in close proximity with him.

His pupils had expanded, his eyes darting all over your face as you gently held his wrist. His fingers had grabbed hold of your arm, the searing heat of his fingertips making heat prickle on the back of your neck in nervousness.

"Does that feel secure?" You managed to whisper, throat drying. "I– does it feel–"

"You gonna let me kiss you, doc?" Gaz whispered an interruption thick with lust, his tongue darting out to swipe against his lower lip. "Please let me."

You bit your bottom lip, eyes scanning his face and waiting for him to tell you that he's joking. But it didn't come. Instead, you were left there, standing in a haze of his cologne and shampoo, his entire body radiating a warmth that made your legs begin to tremble.

"Kyle..." You murmured.

He groaned, eyes closing for just a second. "God, you're killing me here, doc."

"Gaz," you corrected, barely above a whisper. "I– we can't. I'll lose my job–"

"You won't," he responded instantaneously. "You... you won't, doc, I promise. Just... god, just one. Let me just–" he cut himself off with a low groan as he lowered his mouth to yours, brushing his lips so gently against yours that you weren't sure they even touched. He hummed, eyes fluttering shut as he spoke against your lips, his words ghosting across your face. "Just once... one kiss, that's– that's it."

He closed the gap all the way this time, slotting his mouth against yours with a hum from the back of his throat. You were still surprised, struck across the face with confusion as he moved his lips against yours, the warmth of his mouth making your brain short-circuit. His hands moved to cup your head, holding your face to him as he licked your bottom lip and attempted to slip his tongue into your mouth.

"God, you're so good." He whimpered against your mouth, before shoving his tongue further inside, yours meeting his with force.

But with a low whine, you stopped him– placing a hand to his chest and pushing him away. He grunted, breathing hard as he opened his eyes, leaning his forehead against yours. He dropped his arms, grasping at your hips instead, trying to bring you closer, but you resisted with a stab to your heart.

"We can't..." You breathed, slowly backing away. Gaz dropped his arms and watched you shift away from him, the corners of his mouth downturning.

Gaz exhaled with the tip of his tongue pressed to the inside of of his cheek. "I know."

"M'sorry–"

"Don't you dare apologise," Gaz said sternly. "I'm sorry. I'll... I'll see you later, doc. Have a good weekend."

You sighed. "Gaz–"

But he was already gone, closing the door softly behind him, leaving the rich smell of cologne in his wake, lingering around your office like incense.

•º•º•

You thought about the kiss the entirety of the weekend, and it was like it was eating you alive. Every time you got a message from the staff group chat, or an email from the coaching administration, your heart lurched out of your chest. Not because you were scared that you'd somehow been found out, but because seeing the name of the team pop up on your lock-screen make you think about him.

The winger. Gaz.

You couldn't help it– he was just so warm against you, his mouth soft and inviting as the solid, wet heat of his tongue slipped into your mouth and drew the breathiest of whimpers from you. Your body grew hot at the memory, and the memory of his hands on your face, holding you, cradling you as though you were the most perfect thing on earth. All for him, too.

You expected a wave of regret and humiliation to his you over the weekend break, but nothing came. The only thing that did come was, pun absolutely intended, you.

You just couldn't help it. The memories of the way he made you feel, how he felt, had been festering inside your brain long enough that it needed to be expelled someway. And that way was best fit for the later hours of the night, when you were curled up beneath the covers of your bed, your fingers teasing the wet hole of your cunt, another on your puffy clit.

You just couldn't help it. Rethinking the kiss again and again as you sunk two fingers inside yourself, pumping them at the phantom feeling of Gaz's lips against yours, the muscular plains of his chest and abdomen pushed up against the soft curves of your body, his hands keeping your face against his. He felt so good, smelt so good.

The noises slipped from your mouth as you fucked yourself with your fingers, the sheer amount of your arousal evident by the soft, wet squelches and the sensation of it rolling in pearls down your bare thighs. Your clit was so puffy, so sensitive, that you were coming around your fingers in barely a minute, moaning Gaz's name into the dark emptiness of your bedroom.

You needed him. So bad.

And that's why you called him the following morning. Why you picked up your phone, still in bed with your blankets bunched around you, and dialled his number. Why you waited patiently until he replied with a deep, sleep-clogged voice and why you invited him over. Why you got excited when he accepted almost right away, and why you showered with your heart thrumming, buzzing, racing in your chest. Why you answered your door with a bright smile and allowed him to crowd you back into the entrance hall of your flat, closing and locking the door behind him. Why you let him back you against the wall, his hands straight away grabbing your face, fingers warm on your soft skin, and especially why you let him slot his mouth against yours.

You weren't thinking about anything but him at that point. Not about your job, the coach, the captain or any other player. You were thinking of Gaz, the winger, the rugby union player that was currently dropping to his knees in front of you and pulling your trousers down with him. He kissed your bare legs as he helped wriggle your trousers away from your ankles, kissing the sides of your knees as his hands roamed up your legs.

His face trailed up your inner thighs, dragging his nose against the smooth skin, eyes flicking from your clothed core to your pretty face. You partially gaped down at him, chest heaving, your palms flat against the wall to ground yourself. Gaz's mouth found your core through your underwear, already soaking the fabric, and he nudged it with the point of his nose, catching on your clit. He smiled against you as he pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt, and you rewarded him with a pretty little moan that echoed through your quiet flat.

"Mm, jus' so wet already," he said it as though he was in genuine disbelief, but the smile never left his face as he placed another hot kiss to the underside of your underwear, his hands now kneading the fat of your arsecheeks, pushing you away from the wall and closer to him. "Soakin' these pretty little things, hm? Don't want to ruin them, do we, baby?"

You mewled down at him, one of your hands settling on his shoulder as he gently shifted your underwear to the side, exposing your glistening core. He groaned, low and breathy, eyes transfixed on where your leaking hole clenched around nothing, your clit sitting all pretty between your puffy lips. He groaned again, pushing you closer to him and settling his face right up between your legs, his mouth immediately attaching to your clit.

He sucked it into his mouth with a gentle scrape of his teeth, a scrape that sent bolts of electricity through your system, your back arching off the wall as Gaz's hands returned to your arse, groping. You could vaguely feel your underwear pushed into the crevice of your thigh, but you weren't focussing on that– you were focussing on the way Gaz circled your clit with his tongue, before he dragged his tongue through your wet folds and around your hole.

You moaned loudly, and Gaz hummed in response against you, his tongue running in tight circles around your slick hole, licking over it. The sensations were making your body light up, fiery hot pleasure coursing through your veins and you were worried that you were going to come before he even put his tongue inside you. You gripped at his shoulder as finally, finally, he slipped his tongue inside you, a loud whine ripping from his throat.

You could barely keep your eyes open, trying desperately to remain eye-contact as he held your gaze, tongue moving in and out of you, lapping up each drip of your arousal. He was vocal, too– grunting and whining as his tongue moved, his lower-face no doubt drenched. His hands gripped at the flesh of your arse like it was his lifeline, his fingers squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing each time his tongue licked into you.

The world around you was spinning, the morning light streaming in from the small window above your front door. You can't believe you were in this situation. But here you were– leaning against the wall of your hallway, one of England's best rugby union winger's gripping your arse, his face buried between your legs and eating you out the best you'd ever had.

"Gaz, Gaz, oh my god–" You whispered, honeyed with your on-coming orgasm. It was building, burning hot inside you, slowing the thoughts of your brain and forcing you to hone in on the feel of Gaz's solid, wet tongue inside your cunt.

He only broke the movements of his tongue for a moment, his nose still nudging your swollen clit. "Tha's a good girl, baby. Say my name while you're comin' round my tongue." Then, his tongue was back inside you, thrusting in so deep that stars burst behind your pupils and your body wracked with shudders.

You came, moaning out a blissful "Gaz–!" as your orgasm washed over you– no, slammed over you. You gushed around him, your legs trembling in his hold, sweat beading along your hairline as the warmth overtook you. You moaned out again, stretched around a desperate whine, as he licked you through it, sucking up as much of your arousal as he could before he reluctantly pulled away, placing one last kiss to your clit before sliding your underwear back into place.

His entire lower face was wet, glistening with you. You groaned, shutting your eyes as he got to his feet and proceeded to kiss you, rubbing your slick all over your face as well. He smiled into your mouth, tongue probing for yours, meeting it and passing on more of your slick. You moaned, and he moaned too.

"Been wanting to do that for so long," Gaz said in between kisses, his hands on your hips now, rubbing you against his front. You could feel the tent growing in his trousers, and a whimper escaped you. He dragged his mouth down your neck, sucking and biting and licking, spreading more of your sticky arousal across your bare skin. "Pretty little thing she is too, isn't she?"

One of his hands dragged down between your legs as he said that, fingers rubbing through your folds over your soaked underwear. You whimpered, and he hummed, increasing his speed. He still didn't move your underwear, just kept rubbing at your wet, puffy clit with his fingers, his hand moving back and forth between your legs.

"I– I take it your wrist is all better now?" You questioned him, almost out of breath as he rubbed your clit. He was using his injured wrist, the pink tape still visible working between your thighs.

Gaz smiled against your neck. "I had a great physio, didn't I? The best physio..." he increased the speed of his fingers, rubbing you quicker, circling your clit. Your arousal was further dampening your underwear, small whimpers falling from your lips, overstimulation creeping up. Gaz licked at the pulse point behind your ear. "You're just so good, doc. Such a good girl. So fuckin' good letting me play with this pretty pussy, hm? So fuckin' good."

You mewled, turning your head so you could kiss him. This time, it was your tongue shoving into his mouth, and he moaned quietly around your tongue as your lips moved together. His fingers sped up, circles deepening.

"M'gonna come, Gaz..." You whispered, and he shushed you with a kiss. When he pulled away, he did so with a low whine, eyes raking down your body, absorbing each and every little bit of you with his dark eyes.

"You can come, baby," he told you softly. "Come in these pretty things–" he punctuated his sentence by pinching at the fabric of your underwear, pulling it back and letting it slap against your clit, before resuming his previous movements. "–and ruin them for me, yeah? Come all over them and I'll take them home, how's that sound?"

You moaned loudly, clawing at his clothed back.

He chuckled deeply. "Yeah? You like the thought of me takin' these home and wrappin' them around my cock? Hm? Want me to fuck them while thinking about this pretty pussy? O'course you do, doc, cause you're just such a good girl for me. So good, 'n such a good fuckin' pussy too."

That made you come– slick flooding the gusset of your underwear, soaking through and dampening his fingers. He hummed, pleased, against you, his mouth roving over your neck and jaw again as you came. You were breathing hard, and the weight of Gaz's hard cock was making you even more breathless, pushed up between your thighs.

Heaven on earth, it felt like.

But it ended all to soon. Way to fucking soon. Gaz's phone began ringing in his pocket, and he fished it out with his fingers still tacky with your arousal. He kept you pinned to the wall with his body as his eyes swept over his phone screen and he sighed, showing you the screen too. It was the coach, and he mouthed an apology as he answered.

The phone call felt like it went on for an eternity (it was probably just over a minute) and you watched as Gaz's brows drew together in frustration. When he hung up, he angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket and rested his head against your shoulder, groaning as his hands circled your hips, massaging the pliable flesh there.

"What's wrong?" You asked, and he groaned into your neck again.

"I forgot I had sprint training today."

"Oh..."

"Yeah... fuck, m'sorry–"

"Don't apologise," you said, taking his head into your hands. "You need to stay at the top of your game, don't you? And you don't want to make coach mad, either."

"S'pose you're right," he mumbled, and then leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. "See you tomorrow?"

You smiled. "See you tomorrow."

•º•º•

When you got to work the next day, you found a new set of folders on your desk. Placing your belongings down, you picked up the next folder, which had a new patient for you to begin working with, who had received a small injury during the last game that had gotten a bit worse over the weekend.

Your mind was still lingering on thoughts of your and Gaz's encounter yesterday morning, but you picked up and opened the file anyway, intent on not letting sex, and that handsome winger, distract you from doing your job.

"Pulled muscle in the calf, hopefully not a tear..." You read through the file. You flipped the file shut, reading the name on the front. "MacTavish, nicknamed Soap," you laughed. "What kind of name is Soap?"

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

my first chapter of this series. let me know what you thought, and stay tuned for the next one !!

#captainfern #141rugby!au #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #cod gaz #gaz x female reader #gaz call of duty #gaz smut

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roosterforme · 6 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey.

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead.

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person.

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you.

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much.

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that.

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one.

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first.

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave.

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway.

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back.

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you.

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long.

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes.

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times.

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could.

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him.

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day.

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing.

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night.

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again.

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped.

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far.

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend.

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier."

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter.

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top.

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you?

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider.

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing.

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him.

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't.

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried.

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him.

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was.

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately.

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave."

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed.

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey.

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month.

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave.

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic.

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug.

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real.

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect.

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you.

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table.

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb.

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea."

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight.

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house.

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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sweetkpopmusings · 1 year

Text

wonwoo boyfriend headcanons <3

a/n: i am vibrating from how much cold brew i consumed on an empty stomach so i'm writing this in hopes of wonwoo thoughts calming me down but honestly i'll just end up crying <3 pics not mine~

content: fluff | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x gn!reader | requests: open

wonwoo is the love of my life actually. it's scientifically proven and peer-reviewed that i love and adore him with all my heart and soul, so this post is going to be long and filled with my love for him <3

sweetest softest most loving boy in the world <3

he's the type of person to show love through small, tender gestures and actions

loves playing with your hands

i can very clearly see him lying in bed, grabbing your hand delicately, and twiddling with your fingers while you both watch tv/read/scroll on your phones

he also does this absentmindedly when he’s thinking

he may be lost in thought but that doesn’t mean he’s unaware of your presence <3

your presence actually helps him think more clearly :-(

he'll always come to you with questions or problems he needs to work through because just talking to you helps him sort out his thoughts and he knows you'll always offer support and advice

he will call you or send you voice messages about this when he's away too

you are always always always on his mind

and he never lets you forget it

wonwoo so clearly loves you with every little thing he does

even the unconscious ones

walking on the outer part of the sidewalk so you're farther away from vehicles, putting his hand over your head when you enter a car, getting two of a drink/snack so you can have some, tidying up your area of the bathroom counter, and so on

taking care of you is his second nature :-((

sometimes wonwoo just stares at you with complete wonder in his eyes because he can't believe you're real

when you catch him doing it and ask if there's something on your face he just shakes his head and says in tiny "oh no it's nothing"

he looks down to his hands and he's blushing SO much and fighting back a lil smile because he's overwhelmed by how much he loves you i'm screaming

if you push up his glasses when they start to slip or straighten the collar of his shirt or fix a loose strand of his hair he will absolutely lose it

you broke his brain like he doesn't know how to contain himself when you do kind gestures like that

he's muttering and stuttering "thank you" over and over again

he's so cute and flustered so you just give him a lil kiss or pat on the head and he goes completely silent and his eyes are literally sparkling with his love for you

no thoughts head empty except for his love for you <3

wonwoo is a big big BIG fan of quality time

he adores doing things with you, and he equally adores sharing space with you as you both do your respective things

if y'all are in the living room reading different books but cuddled together on the couch, wonwoo is genuinely in heaven

he also loves having you around while he games. like if you're in his vicinity he's so at peace even when his emotions are at an all-time high during the game

and he loves just hanging out while you're doing something you love !!

he simply loves your physical proximity (or digital if he's touring/you're traveling and y'all just facetime or call while doing your own things like cooking or working)

he will let you know when he wants your undivided attention though

often he will do this by biting your shoulder :,-)

you could be making tea in the kitchen and wonwoo will walk up and give you a backhug and gently bite your shoulder so you know that he wants you to look at him and talk to him i'm sobbing thinking about this

and he's so content talking about the smallest things with you :-(

after he bites your shoulder he hums "what're you doing?" and you know he knows what you're doing but you love him so much so you answer "i'm making tea"

he proceeds to ask you lil questions about your tea, your mood, what you plan to do while drinking your tea the correct answer is "hang out with you, wonwoo"

he could actually listen to you talk for hours i'm not even kidding

he's obsessed with the sound of your voice and all the idiosyncrasies in your speech, gestures, etc

he starts picking them up and seventeen is like ?? when did you start saying/doing that ??

and then they meet you and go OHHHHHHHHH that's what it was

after that they will point out every time he acts/speaks like you and he gets a lil embarrassed but also his heart swells because he loves that you've become such a huge part of him <33

he strikes me as the kind of guy who likes to listen to podcasts with you

hear me out

walking around outside, there's a breeze in the air, you're holding hands, sharing headphones, and listening to a podcast about your shared interests

someone hold me i'm having a breakdown

he's so good at comforting you

he becomes so in tune with your emotions that whenever you come to him sad/angry/stressed/etc he is ready

even if he doesn't know exactly what to say, he will listen to you and support you however you need

he'll hold your hands in his while you speak and maintain eye contact so you know you have his full attention

and whenever you cry he will gently wipe your tears away before grabbing tissues for you <3 and sitting with you while you settle yourself <3 and then he'll ask if you want water or anything to make you feel more at ease <3

he's also the absolute best at supporting you through all your successes

he is your BIGGEST fan

he'll always be proud of you and tells you that frequently because he thinks you're so amazing in whatever you do and he wants you to celebrate yourself as much as he celebrates you

he will be walking on cloud nine if you ever compliment a song/performance he's done

like if you like what he's doing that's more than enough for him to be satisfied with it

if he's ever insecure, you telling him all the wonderful things he does makes a world of difference

also so silly with you

he loves making comments that make you laugh

he gets the proudest smile on his face when he makes you laugh

he likes to whisper lil jokes or ad-libs to you when you're hanging out in a group

because he loves when you giggle or even laugh loudly at something he added to the conversation just for you

sometimes he'll make notes of a funny story or a joke he wants to tell you the next time he sees you :,-)

he also will keep notes (mentally or on his phone) of cool things he's learned so he can share them with you !!!

few things make him happier than the look on your face when he tells you something interesting <3

speaking of notes

wonwoo loves leaving handwritten ones for you

if he leaves before you wake up, he's putting a good morning note by your usual mug or your toothbrush so you see his encouraging message as soon as you start your day

if you're going to be apart for a while, he'll write longer notes or hide different little ones around your place so you can get surprise wonwoo words while he's away :-(

any notes you write him are kept safely with his things !!!

he keeps a special one in his wallet or phone case, so you are always with him and he takes it out and reads it when he misses you or is feeling sad even though he has it memorized

if you give him a gift based on the notes you two have written each other throughout your relationship, he WILL cry

he just loves sentiments like that <3 he's a sentimental guy and he likes to show you his love through things with meaning because he thinks it's the best way to convey how special you are to him

wonwoo loves you with everything he's got, and it's clear from the way he interacts with you on a daily basis that you are an important part of his life

no matter what, he's thinking of and caring for you because you make him feel so loved and cared for that he wants nothing more than to make you feel safe and adored <3

sorry i gotta go clutch my crocheted wonwoo plushie to my chest and cry because i love him so dearly :,-( i hope everyone gets the wonwoo they deserve <3

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mysacredmuse · 3 months

Note

ive been thinking for awhile.. imagine playing UNO with aventurine and sunday as if taking a break with all the chaos shit happening in penacony LMAO

like imagine if you three are on opposite sides (terms of like storyline stuff) but one day, aventurine decides to be like ‘hey yall wanna be friends and play uno’

is it possible to write a fic about this please? no pressure, ofc

hello dear !! I can't write a full fic about that, but rather a tiny scenario, I hope that's okay :)

playing uno with sunday and aventurine, written with gender neutral reader in mind ! :)

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

The three of you absolutely despised each other given the differences in interests. However, one day you find yourself sitting in the hall of the hotel as two men sit on two chairs across of yours. Your rooms have been messed up and Sunday had to take care of it, unfortunately some other things got into the way, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence with the two of them. You scroll on your phone as Sunday sits awfully still, that guy always gave you creeps with his statue-like behavior.

Aventurine on the other hand, is completely bored out of his mind, twirling the golden coin between his fingers. You sigh in annoyance as you gaze over the reception, noticing that there is still quite the commotion.

"How about we play the game of poker?" Aventurine finally speaks up, leaning back into his chair.

"Gambling is strictly prohibited in the hotel's lobby. Please refrain from your lowly ways in here." Sunday says firmly, crossing his arms in the process.

"I am also not interested in playing poker with you, I just want my room back." you point your finger at him, slightly readjusting yourself in the chair.

"Ah friends, why so serious?"

Aventurine chuckles as he swiftly takes a pack of cards out of his inner pocket, placing it on the table.

"Is uno prohibited as well?" he asks in a playful tone, earning a grunt from Sunday. You give him a dirty look, leaning back into your chair.

"Come on! We will wait for this mess to clean up for at least an hour, might as well have some fun." he proclaims in a happier tone as he begins shuffling the cards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, slightly leaning forward as you accept your fate.

"I mean as long as we don't place bets, it wouldn't be considered a gamble, correct?" you ask in a bored tone, eyes gazing at Sunday.

"That is correct." he confirms, expression still dissatisfied.

"It's settled then! Let's be friends for a while and enjoy the game!" Aventurine says happily as he deals the cards.

Truth to be told, you never expected to see a man like Sunday hold up uno cards and race with Aventurine as to who will jump in first when a common card is on the table. Just seeing a man like Sunday hold uno cards was enough to make you chuckle. You find yourself actually enjoying this little game with the two of them.

Especially seeing Sunday's elegant demenaor crumbling as he screams at Aventurine for cheating. Then, witnessing Aventurine sneaking his hand into Sunday's pocket, stealing a golden coin once he wins. Sunday naturally scolds him about it and you find yourself having fun even more. Your laugh echoes through the lobby as the crowd slowly settles down.

At the end, you win the most rounds simply because their bickering allowed you to put more cards than you were supposed to while they weren't watching. They did find a secret stash beneath your chair, giving you quite a scolding about it.

Aventurine wasn't that serious, making a remark that you would make a good poker player only if you can cause a commotion. Not that he recommends it, but your cheating skills are admirable in his eyes. In Sunday's however, your cheating skills are absolutely despicable. So, he orders you to play a rematch with them, but no cheating and dirty tricks this time.

The room wasn't important anymore and perhaps this could become a new routine of yours in the near future.

#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #muse's writings

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kristlewrites · 8 months

Text

“Video Game Lover”

CW: Shower sex, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff, nicknames (baby,mama,princess), breeding kink.

PAIRING: Eren X Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.4k

🗯️🫧: omgg, tysm for all the support on my latest zoro fic, it means a lot🩷😖sooo we’re finally here with erennn!!! I honestly had fun writing a lil needy/soft eren, lmk what you guys think :p???

MINORS DNI

(start)

“Fuck off!” Eren shouts, the familiar routine unfolding every Friday night. You on Eren's bed scrolling en

endlessly through tik tok bored out of your poor mind while Eren is hooting and hollering over the mic playing god knows what with his friends. “Yeah, eat shit!” Eren yells jumping a lil.

Impatient, you crawl towards the edge of the bed, tapping Eren's shoulder. “Yeah baby?” He asks in a tender voice almost making you feel guilty for being mad at him. He looks you in the eye, he doesn't even need you to ask the question he already knows what you're going to ask “I'll be off right after this round i promise” he adds then gives a lil peck on your cheek. Foolishly you believe him and return back to your spot, getting comfy under the covers

“WHAT THE FUCK” you jolt awake from the roar the eren caused, eyes barely open as you check the time on your phone. 11 pm ‘one more round my ass’. You look up to see he is now on a completely different game!?!? Like you cannot be serious. Taking in the situation you decide it's best if you go to bed. You remove the blanket flinching a bit from the cold of the room, and head into the shower, slamming the door just to be a lil petty.

He invited you over, and he can't even get off the game for a minute for you?? You sigh while removing your clothes. Grabbing your shower cap from the shower, you make sure to grab all your carrot soap as well as your vanilla body wash. Of course you couldn't forget your music, logging into spotify you play ‘All I want is you’ by Miguel (litcherally my fave song rn so srs.) . Turning the knobs making sure the water is at perfect the temperature you step in.

Lathering your body, in your own world. Eren walks in, halting in his track as he sees your figure behind the foggy screen. No matter how many times he's seen it,it never fails to stun him. He is completely mesmerized by the way the water rinses off the soap from your titties. In a complete trance with how your curves look behind the glass, he loves every inch of you and would never want to hurt you. Reflecting on how he treated you earlier when he was in the game, he obviously regrets his actions…I mean the game was never that serious.

Finding his resolve, Eren knocks on the glass trying to get your attention. You continue singing completely ignoring his knocks, until you see Eren take off his clothes. ‘What is he doing..?’ you think to yourself irritated. You could never understand this nigga. The door slides open to reveal Eren dick and balls out “Can I come in?” he asks absolutely cheesin, smile ear to ear n all.

“N-no, what the fuck nigga get out” you voiced, this man is crazy.

“Oh c’mon baby, are u mad at me?” Eren pouted, ignoring your rejection he climbed into the shower. You roll your eyes and resume scrubbing your arms “Please tell me what's wrongg” he was practically whining at this point. Still facing forward you continue rinsing your body until you feel his rough hands on your hips dragging you back a little. Your ass grazing his tip. You hiccup quietly at his swift motion.

“What are you doing..” you ask looking everywhere but him. Silence. Growing irritated, you turn around looking dead at him. His long hair washed down, the trails of water flowing down his perfectly carved chest each droplet tracing down the path of his abs.your eyes following one little droplet as it paces down his body all the way to his-

“My eyes are up here mama” He says, you quickly dart your eyes back up to him

“Why are you here?” You ask with your arms crossed covering your nipples.

“I wanted to say i'm sorryyyyy” he sulks, with his frown quivering.

“For what?”

“For ignoring you and playing the game.” he answers, with his head down and hands behind his back. Almost like a little kid getting into trouble. “Do you forgive me?” He looks back up at you with his big green eyes staring right into your brown ones.

“Hmmm…,” you ponder. You were having way too much fun teasing him like this. “Nah”

“Please baby let me make it up to you” Eren said practically begging on his knees with his hands rubbing together.

“And how are you gonna do that?”

His tongue shot straight into your pussy, wiggling around a little bit. “What is wrong with you?!?!” Reflexively you slap him on the forehead. He slowly stands up, giggling to himself. As soon as he reaches eye level with you he grabs your chin, brings it in closer then leans in for a kiss. Instinctively you tilt towards him returning the kiss. He reaches for your ass, lifting you up. Both arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist, completely melting into the kiss. Tongues colliding with each other, swishing around. Eren pulls back and looks into your eyes with pure adoration. He is without a doubt enamored with you, he feels so horrible for what he did to you.

“Do you forgive me?" he asks again.

You giggle at his question, looking down at him, nose to nose. “Of course I do baby, jus dont pull that shit again.”

You can see him gleaming, wearing that contagious grin reaching for another kiss.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” You nod, he lets you down gently. Performing a smooth arch, with your ass facing towards him water evenly dripping down your back. “Let me know if it hurts,” Eren says.

His penis enters slowly into your entrance. Eren nearly melts at the way your pussy just wraps him so well, your smooth velvety walls caressing his dick. It’s like you were made just for him.

“mmm” you felt every inch of him in you, moving quicker and quicker.

“ya feel so good baby, so good.”Eren marvels at the way your ass jiggles with every thrust. He grabs your hips, slamming your ass aggressively against his balls. So loud it sounded like damn gunshots (🪦🪦😭) “Let me fill you up princess, I wanna see you full” Eren whispers into your ear

“M-mhm” you mumble, can’t even barely form thoughts let alone words. You were dazed out of your mind, the way Erens whole demeanor changes when y’all have sex is wild but you love it. “Oh baby right there!” You squeal as erens hits your g-spot. Toes curling, legs shaking, nails gripping onto whatever surface it could grasp onto, you could feel it and so did Eren.

“Cum on me y/n” Almost instantly it comes pouring down, flooding his dick. “Yeaaa, that’s right.” Eren says in a whisper, astonished. Reaching for your arms he carefully picks you, twisting you facing him with your back against the tile. Like the beast he is he continues, fucking you into oblivion. Your head resting on his shoulder, bobbing at every thrust. Your cum still lingering in your pussy making easy access for eren.

“p-puh ” you manage out, nearly numb out yo mind.

“Baby use your words or I won’t be able to understand what you want” Eren grunts, still going abusing your poor little cunt. “I’m gonna make you all nice and full”

“Eren, f-feels so g-good” you cry out

“Yea?”

“Mhm..”you nod against his shoulder. You can feel his dick twitchin and in you

“Hold on mama, stay with me” as he says that you feel his warm liquid cum flowing into you, sending you off into orbit causing you to release too. Panting, you rest your head on his shoulder. “You did a good job, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Eren spent the rest of the shower tidying both of you guys up, cleaning out whatever could be left and turning off the shower. Still carrying you he lays you on his bed lending you his shirt and boxers to sleep in.

“Do you want wingstop?” Eren asks, holding his phone on the door dash app. You nod, lying on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

Once the food was delivered you guys spent the rest of the night watching scary movies (the movie not the genre😭).

(love u guyss, enjoy!!)

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