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queenofallimagines · 1 month

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Oooh I have a Obey Me writing idea for you but you can ignore if you don’t wanna do it. So when you first come to the Devildom, almost all of the brothers are cold/petty asf to the MC (in my Pisces opinion). Imagine MC’s like “fuck that” and doesn’t try to pander to them as much as the game script wants you to. Like the story still progresses bc the MC is still nosy when it counts, but she doesn’t center them around her world and instead gets closer someone who was nicer/more helpful in the beginning (say like Solomon or Simeon). I’m sorryyy I’m not hating on the brothers but realistically you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Like yeah being a tsundere is cute to an extent but most of em were doing too much in the beginning. Maybe a reaction from the brothers (doesn’t have to be specific for each brother) as they slowly start to warm up to MC but they can’t stand that they’re not gonna be as close as they wanted to be. And either Solomon or Simeon (or both) reacting to you getting closer to them ;) Again this request may be highly specific so you can either tweak it or toss it if it doesn’t sound appealing to write. It can be SFW or NSFW. I love your writing!

A/n: YOURE SO RIGHT BESTIE!! Like the dick ain’t good enough for them to be all over MC like that CRAZY disrespectful 😒 like in my head I was being fake nice to them to secure the pacts until like you make one with Satan and then it’s like okay, maybe I can be genuine w yall. Bc like I’m making friends w any of the billions of other demons there like Diavolo is all but head over heels for you.

MC:

- I’m so on board with this

- Like if they want to go low I can take it right to hell

- They want to throw UP

- Mammon thinks you’re joking but when you fr never come ask him for help he’s crying himself to sleep

- Asmo hates being ignored so after that time in the maze(catacombs? wtf was those) he’s antsy that you don’t really talk to him

- They feel you having fun through your pacts but when you’re around just them it’s like nothing

- Like when a lightbulb dies

- Student council meetings become increasingly more tense as they watch you get along with Solomon and Luke and Simeon and you’re cold to them

- They don’t even really realize they the problem at first

- Lucifer always itching to punish someone so when he snaps at you and you clapback and the issue never comes up again he’s a little disappointed

- Like him and Satan make fun of your grades?

- Bet. you’re being tutored by Solomon and a demon in your potions class

- Like bitch how the FUCK were we ever supposed to take demon philosophy before?? We just got here!!

- Refuse to work with them on any school activities

- You and mammon partnered up to decorate for some school event?

- You work only when he’s not around

- Beel is the one who sounds the alarm by realizing it’s hard to keep track of you

- Like he’ll go asking where you are and nobody can even say when the last time they saw you was

- Belphagor tried to pull that “I’m a human” shit and you didn’t visit the attic for like three weeks😭

- Had to actually force himself to be genuinely nice

- Remember how they said they sent a demon to like the human realm to pretty much do the same thing? who was that because I don’t think we ever hear about them😭

- But you get their number and talk about your shared experiences

- Fish out of water if you will!

- Lucifer WANTS to yell but you do the bare minimum of what they ask he can’t mandate you to join family movie night😔

- Asks a pouting mammon where tf you are and he lists off like any number of random demons you could be chilling with

- Asmo is burning with envy as he catches you at a party with a group of old acquaintinces

- Can see they are so obviously enjoying your company

- Tries to steal the attention for himself

- Levi seeing you on other mfs socials cosplaying w them and doing a TSL marathon like he’s right there??

- Dinner be so awkward but you brush it off like a G

- only texts the family group chat for confirmation, dinners ready, and when is lord diavolo asking for everyone

- Lucifer comes to Dia’s house bc paperwork and he plans to spill the tea when he sees you and him already HAVING TEA🤨

- Like excuse me??

- “Ah just who I was looking for-“

- “Sorry Lucifer I have exams to study for I was just asking Lord Diavolo some history questions I’ll be on my way.”

- He’s literally WILTING💀

- Whines to Dia and he’s like I’m sorry ?? have yall not been spending time with them??

- “Yall….LIVE together. I ain’t out just you and them in the same house for no reason??”

- He can’t eleven rly do shit bc you’re integrating into demon society very well and are pretty sociable

- Like you gain regular popularity but not through them

- Rest of RAD forgets you’re under their protection tbh

- Like you’re your own entity and not at all attached to them so when a random demon is caught talking about like chilling w you and mammon is like IM THEIR FIRST MAN YOU GOTTA AS ME

- he looses about 500 years when the demon goes

- “Oh yeah you are their hired help huh?”

- Yeah he’s picking out a coffin

- Bc he rly tries to curb his tsun behaviors but he hasn’t made it to that level with you where he can be genuine in private

- Levi too like he calls you a stupid normie on reflex and is whimpering when he sees he’s been blocked on devilgram

- What did yall expect??

- Beel is the ONLY one who you regularly talk to

- And even then he’s got his own stuff going on

- But you guys always eat together

- Jaws dropping when he offered you food

- I imagine Beel is like “oh they don’t be talking to yall?….That’s crazy”

- Precious boy so unaware of the conflict

- Nor bc he’s dumb but he’s like “tf that got to do with me?? MC likes me.”

- Very “okay what does that mean to me tho” energy

- I imagine after the Levi pact arc when mammon is wrapping your sprained wrist and he’s all

- “If I can’t come save ya next time, Die.”

- You pull away completely

- Even Satan is having to control himself be he sees your purposefully avoiding him

- He would congratulate you on how well you’re dodging his advances if it didn’t piss him off so bad

- Keeps it a little secret to himself that he can feel your pact mark burning right under his skin whenever you talk to them

- Played hot and cold to see how he can make you less mad when he interacts with you

- Lucifer is so desperate he’s fr about to make a pact early to feel any sort of proof you exist

- Idk if peacocks do it but you know how birds will rip out their own feathers under stress?

- Yeah That’s HIM😭

- Barbados just sit back and observe

- Even the season 3(?) characters come in early! Like you meet 13 as an extension of Solomon and y’all are thick as thieves

- You’re flourishing in your Magic practices bc you still have their pacts, them helping you with magic or not you’re still not one to be fucked with

- Mephistopheles is so giddy that you’re close to him and not Lucifer

- Offers to hide you in his news room to avoid them

- “It’s so quiet a perfect place to study!”

- Sees them scrambling to get ahold of you but your in his office w your phone on silent

- “Oh hmmm, idk I saw them in the forbidden section of the library maybe check there? Weird y’all supposed to be watching them and have no clue about their whereabouts.”

- Lucifer can take it NO LONGER when we’re about right before lesson 16 and he’s making a scene at dinner

- “Why do you never stay in this house? You a mere human think you’re too good to talk?”

- “That. That shit right there is why I don’t talk to any of you. Do you not notice how rude you are?”

- Before Satan can even say his “we’re demons” line you’re cutting his ass off

- “Why would I want to spend time around people who threaten my life for fun?🤨my job is to heal demon human relations and I’m doing that just not with the help of YOU.”

- Dips to purgatory hall bc it’s not Solomon’s night to cook

- They all just kinda 🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍for a few days bc wtf can they say to that??

- Like you’re absolutely right

- You were already humbling Lucifer before but now he has this irrational anger towards you

- But in a nice way??

- He’s like packing your lunch and throwing away whatever you had

- Pushing you out the way to do whatever chore or task you’re doing

- Makes your favorite foods when is his turn to cook dinner

- Like he’s completely unhinged

- To stir the pot let’s say this is lesson 16 and they show up to all that

- Can you imagine??

- Their filled with even more regret than before!! They never got a chance to establish a deep bond with you

- Not really. Not like you have with everyone else

- And now you’re gone??

- They barely even care about the Lilith reveal like😭

- They do everything they can to win your favor but it’s like the end of the program now who’s to say it was enough??

- Beel is elated while the othered are broken that you and belphie become close

- Poor belphie is exhausted w all this drama so to make amends even more he goes out of his way to heal the gaps between you and the others so it’s all good now

- Not Lucifer tho

- He’s still moping

- Can’t hurt his pride by saying how glad he is that your back

- Can’t tell you how he watched his world fall apart when he saw the light leave your eyes

- DEFINITELY can’t tell you how he prayed to Lilith that he would protect you from now on and that he’s sorry

- All of RAD throws a huge goodbye party for you

- Lots of tears

- During the movie night of like that last few days

- As a little treat for you, you still sleep w Lucifer lmao

- Like you sneak out to go to the bathroom and none of the brother see you for the rest of the night?? Yeah we knew already

- He WILL cry jsyk

- He’s pressing kisses all over you and holding you like you’ll disappear

- Mumbling praises into your skin

- The most he’s ever said “I love you” in his entire existence

- Looking at you with teary eyes

- Can’t keep up his prideful façade

- He’s okay with being vulnerable to you

- Again hit him w the “my morning star”

- And he will go crazy

- Tears up when you leave

- Like he can’t even front like he’s not about to go throw up

- They’re all anxious that they won’t ever see you again because you still hate them

- I promise you on everything in all three realms

- They almost do NOT let you leave when you go

- “Thank you for my time here, I love all of you.”

- They are inconsolable

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mrjoeshiesty9 · 8 months

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W E L C O M E // INSTA AU

Summary; Y/N and Joe have been together for 4 years, way before this LSU days. Y/N has always been there for Joe and suddenly she goes MIA until…..

joeyb_9 I’m tired of the underdog narrative. Liked by kingjames, lahjay10_, tombrady, and 3,234,234 others

View 2,123,212 comments

lahjay10_ here we go boys!!

User2342 yesyesyes!

User37493 where was y/n?!

↳ user 232 can you just stop looking for her and congratulate the boy?!

bengals this is the new normal 😎

kingjames let’s go!!!!

Mamaburrow so proud of you all! On to the next one!

tombrady see you at the Super Bowl!

User9382 but for real, where was y/n? Where has she been for the last 6 months because?!?!

lahjay10_ back to back baby! We coming for the ring!

Liked by bengals, sam_hubbard_, teehiggins, and 1,232,432 others

View 837,392 comments

Bengals who dey!!!!

User92384 this is our year boys!

sam_hubbard_ LETS GOOOOOOOO

teehiggins ayeeeee who day nation where are you!

User8173 underdogs who?!

Y/b/f happy birthday to my best friend, my rock, my soulmate. You make everything better 🤍

Liked by y/u/n, zendaya, mamaburrow, and 76,343 others

View 63,342 comments

Zendaya happy birthday baby! Can’t wait to see you later!

Selenagomez happy birthday gorgeous!

User9342 happy birthday mother!

User29734 it’s the queens birthday!!!

User92382 where have you been girl!?!

User1212 is this a new pic or?! Girl! It’s been 6 months since anybody has seen you!

Y/u/n ✨ birthday shenanigans ✨

Liked by mamaburrow, yourmom, bengals, and 9,238,232 others

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Y/b/f I’m so proud to call you my best friends🤍

Taylorswift happy birthday baby!

Mamaburrow happy birthday ma cherie, know I’m always here for you 🤍

yourmom happy birthday darling, I’m so proud of the person you have become 🤍

User2983 mother?!?!?!?!

User9382 we miss you y/n!!! Happy birthday queen!!!

Bengals happy birthday queen y/n

lahjay10_ happy birthday sis!

Sam_hubbard_ happy birthday lil sis!

User1872 nope, no way they have broke up because, do you all see the comments?

↳ user323232 right?! Mama burrow, ja’marr and sam? Even Bengals?! No way! They’re still together!

User9283 how did the rumors of them breaking up start anyway?!

Joey/nupdates so joe’s family, y/n;s family, bengals family, their friends and other celebs like zendaya, taylor swift, tom holland, kid cudi and more, shared THIS EXACT SAME PICTURE. What is going on!?

Liked by y/nupdates, Joeupdates, y/njoeybloves, and 3,322 others.

View 342 comments

user231 so they’re not separated after all?!?!?

User39 maybe it’s a dinner party for their arc championship guys. chill.

User932 where is this? If anybody knows?

↳ user2 it seems like y/n’s house in Malibu? ↳ user932 didn’t the bengals just play today?!

↳ user2 yeah but I mean….they’re both rich so…..they can easily fly everybody back and forth in 1 day hahah

↳ user232 also, y/n owns a private plane…. So you know….

User9232 this is random but her place is so cute!!!

↳ user838 right?! They’re both pretty private for people who are very much in the spotlight, so little things like these is so nice to see.

joeyb_9 Baby Burrow coming soon.

Tagged: y/u/n

Liked by y/u/n, taylorswift, stephcurry, and 15,322,523 others.

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Y/u/n this was the hardest secret we had to keep. Thank you joeyb_9 for being the greatest partner anybody could ever ask for. ↳ joeyb_9 I should be thanking you for everything and especially for giving me the best gift ever. I love you my girl. 🤍

↳ y/u/n I love you more 🤍

taylorswift ahhhh! It was so hard keeping this secret! But I love you both so much, auntie Taylor will always be here 🤍

Bengals baby burrow we are ready for you 🤍

Mamaburrow can’t wait to meet the little one 🤍

User2374 SCREAMING

User293842 mother is really a mother now!!! Queen mother!!!!

User02834 I knew it!!!!! i knew they were never broken up this whole time!!!!!!!!

lahjay10_ can’t wait to meet my little bud, gotta start them early

Liked by y/nbaby, joey/n, lovey/n, and 5,234 others

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Joey/nupdates after the announcement that Joe and y/n were expecting (CONGRATULATIONS BY THE WAY) many of their families and friends started posting the gender reveal on their stories. I’m guessing that’s what the dinner thing that they all posted about earlier.

User2342 TEAM BOY!!!

User2384 imagine having a boy and it’s the exact same copy of Joe

↳ user29834 imagine having a girl and it’s the exact same copy of y/n

User92374 this kid gonna be gorgeous that’s for sure.

User0283 the genes!!!! Having the perfect parents!!!

User392 baby burrow!!! Ahhh!!

Liked by joeyb_9, mamaburrow, yourmom, bengals, and 43,232,344 others

View 34,343,764 comments

Y/u/n my happy boy, so thankful 🙏🏻

joeyb_9 so grateful for you and baby j 🤍 thank you for the best gift ever

Mamaburrow can’t wait to cuddle him!

Yourmom we’ll see you all later! Can’t wait to meet him!

Y/b/f baby j! Cutest baby ever! Auntie will spoil you like crazyyy

User93784 baby j?!?

user9283 I love the privacy but I’m so curious what his name is!

↳ I doubt we’ll know his name until 10 years later hahaha

User3934 this is the cutest thing ever I’m crying

User0210 they really have a baby 😭 so jealous, happy and proud!

a/n: this is my very first fanfic/insta au so... I hope you guys like it. If you want to request anything feel free to do so. I have a few more ideas so hopefully I'll get the chance to start writing them soon. :)

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow au #joe burrow instagram au

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cacti-are-like-flamingos · 5 months

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Softcore

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Artificial Paradise

**Finally finishing up Uni forever --- well, until I decide what to do my Master's on. About to go hard on finals so wish me luck on that. I'm so sorry for the wait!

...

It's been a while since you've had a chance to catch your breath from all the messed-up stuff swirling around in your everyday jujutsu life. A week has passed since that little... "moment" back on Halloween.

Honestly, it was supposed to be a good, vulnerable moment between the three of you — something that should've solidified your bond. But, you can't shake this sense of shame.

Shame for multiple reasons, but the main one is that, for some reason, you feel ashamed for feeling the way you did. For expressing yourself the way you did. That vulnerability you felt in Gojo's arms, watching as Suguru took his own swig from the sake bottle — it frustrated you to no end. Why did you feel so awful just being in the moment? In a way, you felt humiliated for being so raw with others. But at the same time, you argued with yourself that what you did was okay. Of course, you have the right to expression — a right to sensation, a right to feeling.

Yet, you can't help but want to shove that night into the background so those feelings won't sting anymore. Whatever you felt, it's confusing to say the least.

Despite the inner turmoil, you pushed through — the best you could manage for the moment was to shove those feelings aside. Because, let's face it, if you indulged in those thoughts, you'd likely end up diving headfirst into a sea of emotions, drowning in them until it seemed like you'd never felt anything else.

Fortunately, today just so happens to be one of the best distractions imaginable.

It's Ieiri's birthday.

If it weren't for Utahime creating a group chat just for the birthday party, you wouldn't have even known it was Ieiri's birthday.

Originally, Ieiri wasn't keen on doing anything special for her birthday, leaning towards a chill day at the park with some convenience store snacks and her favorite pack of cigarettes. But Utahime insisted, emphasizing that her little kouhei deserved a proper celebration. So, everyone tossed in their own ideas — mainly you, Mei Mei, Utahime, Haibara, and Kento.

Utahime was all about a shopping spree, Mei Mei favored an amusement park, Haibara suggested a classic dinner at a restaurant, and surprisingly, Kento threw in the idea of a night out in Shibuya. Gojo and Suguru were predictably useless; Gojo with his absurd ideas, and Suguru just going with the flow.

Honestly, you didn't pitch in any ideas either. You thought Ieiri's original plan was pretty nice. It felt more intimate than the traditional options. Nevertheless, the idea of hitting Shibuya and diving into the nightlife gained popularity in the group, especially when Gojo realized he could easily charm some pretty girls at the club.

And thus, the steps to heading out to Shibuya began.

Getting Ready

Just like the chaos of preparing for the waterpark months ago, getting ready this time was an absolute mess among the three of you. Especially when Ieiri asked you to help with her makeup — not gonna lie, you had to watch a few YouTube videos just to figure out what the hell to do.

You and Ieiri rushed to the nearest makeup store, searching for budget-friendly brands so you could assist her.

Side note: Ieiri only had the essentials like mascara and lip gloss, but considering it was a night out in one of Japan's busiest areas, she decided to go big with it.

Then there were Suguru and Gojo, bickering about what outfits to wear since they wanted to either match or at least have complementary outfits. This whole matching outfit thing started a few months back when you and Gojo unintentionally showed up with nearly identical outfits, sparking teasing from Suguru and Ieiri. After that, it became a quirky routine to find something that coordinated with the others' clothes.

Side note: Another factor was that each of you had a habit of raiding each other's closets, especially Suguru's, given his penchant for oversized clothing. His wardrobe was practically a hot commodity within your little trio.

The dorm rooms in disarray, small piles of clothes scattered in the hallways from Gojo tossing everything out of his closet, forgetting his door is wide open. Suguru shuttling back and forth between his room and yours, showcasing outfits for judgment, only to grumble and search for another when either you or Ieiri vetoes the look. You, attempting a YouTube tutorial while applying budget foundation on Ieiri's face, accidentally smearing some on the lollipop stick she's perpetually chewing on. The floor becomes a makeup disaster zone as you holler for Gojo to fetch you an outfit from your closet. He barges in, tiptoeing around you, eyeing how you're doing Ieiri's makeup, and can't resist making a comment. Suguru peeks in, curious about the commotion.

Cut to the climax — Gojo and Suguru literally shoving you aside as Gojo grabs the setting powder, tapping it onto the birthday girl's skin, while Suguru crouches beside them, offering ideas for eyeshadow styles and more. Meanwhile, you're rolling your eyes and grappling with the decision of what to wear.

Ah, don't forget the music. Every room has its own soundtrack as everyone gears up individually — each of you with your dedicated playlist for getting ready. Honestly, it's as chaotic as it gets, especially when Yaga storms down, hollering for all of you to clean up the mess while sneakily appreciating Gojo's makeup on Ieiri.

You and Suguru linger in the background, tossing all of Gojo's clothes into the closet without bothering much about hangers and such. That's a problem for future him.

Curious about what Kento and Haibara are up to as they get ready for the night? Well, Kento is bombarding your phone with pictures of potential outfits he's considering. In the background of these photos, you can spot Haibara making faces and waving at you. Midway through this whole ordeal, he even gave you a call. During the conversation, not many words were exchanged; instead, you both used each other's sounds as a sort of background noise while putting on your outfits, only to take them off and start the process anew.

Every now and then, you'd catch Haibara screaming something in the background — usually about not being able to find his favorite socks or some such. Kento, in response, would grumble under his breath before directing him to the last place he saw the elusive socks.

Before long, Mei Mei and Utahime reached the school gates. Yaga guided them to the dorm rooms, and the three of them observed the chaos unfolding with all four of you (Kento and Haibara were on the other side) scrambling around to gather the rest of your stuff.

Gojo was putting the finishing touches on Ieiri's makeup while she tidied up her room. Suguru haphazardly tossed the remainder of his clothes onto his bed, and you dashed to your room with Kento still chatting in your ear while you struggled to put on your shoes. Meanwhile, Utahime was yelling at all of you for leaving such a mess, and Mei Mei chuckled under her breath, commenting on how cute it was that Gojo knew how to do makeup.

On a side note, you had Gojo's glasses, so you had to sidle over to him as he touched up Ieiri's lipstick, all the while putting the glasses on his own face, with Mei Mei cooing in the background.

On the way to Shibuya

The trip to Shibuya isn't long, but as your little group sprints onto the train, time seems to speed up with everyone bickering and bantering. Mei Mei and Gojo are doing their usual banter dance, sprinkled with a few flirty comments here and there. Suguru is engrossed in a deep conversation with Kento near the window, while Ieiri and Utahime chat animatedly with each other.

Haibara is trying to strike up a conversation with you, but for the life of you, you can't seem to respond. It's as if your thoughts are shrouded in a fog. You feel like you're not entirely present, but you desperately want to be—your gaze seemingly lost in space, unfocused.

Before you know it, a warm sensation envelops your hand, grounding you back to reality. Haibara is leaning over you, a slightly concerned expression on his face as he quietly asks if you're alright.

"Are you alright? You seem... off." Blinking away the remnants of your brain fog, you manage a nod and respond with a quick, "Yeah, just, uh, spaced out a bit."

Haibara frowns, "You've been doing that a lot. Did something happen?"

Internally, you think, "What didn't happen?"

Trying to suppress an eye roll at his concern becomes an act of frustration. Why would you do that when it's perfectly fine for him to express concern? After all, he cares about you.

Stop being a fucking bitch.

With a slight, disarming smile, you shrug. "I'm just going through one of those moments—it'll pass eventually. So no need to worry about it." He doesn't seem entirely convinced, but then again, he knows better than to push you for an answer.

You've always been like a brick wall, unyielding and towering. Just when something manages to climb, they only catch a glimpse of the other side before more bricks are piled on, obstructing their view.

With a soft hum, Haibara settles back into the seat beside yours, sinking into his chair before resting his head on your shoulder. He traces small circles on the back of your hand as you attempt to steady your breathing.

Side Note: Kento and Suguru were actually brainstorming ways to cheat on the upcoming exam. The two of them were seriously fried from all the missions, studying, and non-stop testing. Kento floated the idea, and Suguru ran with it. Right now, they're thinking of scribbling the answers on the inside of their collars — they figure it's a safe bet since they've got a solid track record as studious guys.

The Shibuya Scene

It didn't take long before you could sense yourself distancing from your more negative emotions—or, in reality, the closer you got to Shibuya, you pushed yourself to catch the group's infectious energy. You let it flow through you, sweeping all your thoughts, worries, and insecurities to the back of your mind. The bustling crowds on the train, everyone dressed up for the night ahead, helped in the process.

For the first time that day, you could finally breathe as you jumped to your feet, pulling Haibara along with you.

Dragging Haibara along, you hustled over to Suguru, who had kindly volunteered to be the backpack carrier for everyone's stuff. You held the bag for him while he got up from his seat, with Kento standing behind you, attempting to steady a very dizzy and giggling Haibara who quipped, "Well, you bounced back up pretty quick."

If only he knew.

Your initial mission was to grab some food because, for some reason, none of you felt particularly hungry before heading out. But the moment those train doors swung open, Gojo started complaining about how famished he was. He slung his arm over Kento, who was visibly irritated by the gesture. His blonde eyebrows twitched as he attempted to shove the clingy Gojo off.

You stumbled upon this quaint spot called Zuicho—a bit hidden and surprisingly small. Only eight seats were available, but luck was on your side as most of the patrons had left, leaving 7 out of the 8 seats open. The restaurant specialized in katsudon, and despite the limited menu, the reviews were solid, so the group decided, "Why not?" Kento generously offered Ieiri the last available seat while he opted to eat standing, patiently waiting for the lingering customer to vacate the spot.

One stern look from Mei Mei, and the man occupying the final chair hastily scurried away, bowl in hand. This prompted the restaurant staff to shout and chase after the fleeing diner. Surprisingly, Gojo footed the bill for the pilfered bowl, nonchalantly waving his little black card around as if it were of no value whatsoever.

Upon arriving at Shibuya Cross, Mei Mei, accompanied by an exuberant Haibara, suggests the idea of a group picture. Mainly, Mei Mei seizes the opportunity to stand closer to Gojo as everyone finds their spots, enlisting a stranger with tinted glasses to take the photo – another young foreigner, much like yourself. Eventually, the group naturally disperses, exploring the area. Though not old enough for the clubs, curiosity propels your little groups through the bustling streets.

Gojo ends up pulling Suguru toward a group of admiring girls, while Mei Mei attempts conversation with the relatively unresponsive Kento, who keeps an eye on you and Haibara. The two of you are engrossed in a debate over whether to spend money at an intriguing kiosk. Utahime and Ieiri have vanished, likely off seeking possible group activities.

Side note: Utahime brings out a pink sash and a tiara both proclaiming "birthday girl," draping them over Ieiri. Ieiri nearly lunges at Gojo when he manages to snap a photo of her unawares. You and Utahime have to hold her back while Suguru gives Gojo a smack on the back of the head amid his maniacal laughter.

Add-On: Gojo slyly managed to shoot the picture over to Suguru, who sneakily checked it out after Gojo deleted the photo on his phone right in front of Ieiri. Suguru decided to hold onto it, a mischievous grin playing on his face as he and Gojo exchanged a knowing glance.

A while after the photo, something neon catches your eye. Next thing you know, Utahime and Haibara are jumping up and down, excitedly yelling about Mario Kart cars that can be rented out along with onesies.

Suddenly, Utahime is hollering at Kento to find the location on his phone, simultaneously giving his collar a playful tug. Ieiri is genuinely pumped as the gang heads over to Street Kart Shibuya — then comes the dilemma of deciding who gets to rock which onesie. And let me tell you, that turned into a full-blown war. Suguru claimed Pikachu, Gojo insisted on Stitch, Mei Mei initially resisted the whole costume thing but eventually caved, opting for a low-key Mario. Ieiri went with the timeless Winnie the Pooh, Utahime snagged Kirby, Kento happily nabbed Luigi (much to Mei Mei's satisfaction), Haibara transformed into Bowser, and you, my friend, embraced your inner Ninja Turtle.

You all cruised through the streets like there was no tomorrow. Surprisingly, Gojo was the picture of safe driving, while Suguru embraced a bit more recklessness, a wild grin on his face as he zoomed by most of the group. Utahime was hot on his heels, having challenged him to a small race.

Meanwhile, Kento kept to the rear with Mei Mei and you, the three of you just chilling. In the meantime, Ieiri and Haibara engaged in a conversation, shouting over the roar of their engines.

Side Note: Gojo had brought a speaker along, handing it to Kento to carry along with Ieiri's iPod. This way, he could blast her favorite tunes as the group navigated the crowded streets of Shibuya. Pedestrians, mostly spirited and slightly tipsy, cheered and danced on the sidewalks, as they listened to the songs.

It's a miracle none of you crashed.

Side Note: Since none of you could really get into the nightclubs, you ended up just standing outside, huddled together, grooving a bit to the music. You chatted among yourselves while Gojo and Haibara grabbed sodas and snacks from the nearest convenience store, bags swinging from their arms as they passed the drinks around.

Add-On: Ieiri managed to snag a cigarette from a tipsy guy loitering outside the club, and you lit it up for her. Suguru nearly lost his shit when he caught you lighting up Ieiri's cigarette; he assumed you smoked too, and he was this close to giving you a smack for it.

By the end of the night, Utahime and Mei Mei hopped on the train back to Kyoto, catching it before they shut down for the night. Unfortunately, despite Kento's repeated reminders, the rest of you forgot. By the time you reached the station, it had already closed. So, everyone had to trek back to Jujutsu High on foot.

As you stroll along, Ieiri sticks close, a smile playing on her lips as she chuckles at something Haibara said, her fingers briefly brushing against yours. For a moment, you savor the warmth of her touch before sliding your hands into your hoodie pockets. You notice a slight dimming in her eyes, prompting you to remedy it by awkwardly resting your head on her shoulder as you all continue walking, muttering something about how Haibara can be pretty dumb.

Side Note: The speaker has run out of battery by now, so Suguru has Ieiri's iPod in his pocket, playing some random song at a low volume. It serves as background music, adding to the vibe of the stroll.

You can't recall how the night wrapped up — one moment, you're relishing the crisp night air while Gojo and Kento go back and forth, the other two idiots snickering in the background. Then suddenly, you find yourself sprawled on your bed, still decked out in the same clothes from the night out, silently gazing up at the blank expanse of your room's white ceiling.

Your eyes fixate on a piece of paper you taped up there ages ago, its gold lettering shimmering in the ambient lighting. A whirlwind of thoughts swirls through your mind, yet none quite break the surface. For a moment, you exist in the fabric of time, quietly tuning in to Suguru's thunderous snores echoing from the next room.

Suddenly, a text pinged on your phone. You knew instantly who the sender was as you groaned in annoyance and frustration. Crawling to your phone, which had been charging on the nightstand just above your head, you squinted your eyes at the brightness of the screen as you read the message.

Gakuganji

Meeting. End of the month.

You almost wanted to throw a fit as a bubble of dread filled your being. Shutting the phone off, you tossed it to the side before flopping back onto your bed. Red-tinged eyes stared up, once again, at the ceiling.

You never knew an object could also have a fuzzy outline

...

Song Inspo: xanny - Billie Eilish

(A/N):

Oct 22 - Is this like a filler episode? Yes, yes it is. I just wanted some fluff and what better way than with a little Birthday special? 🎆

Nov 14 - Ha, nah. Also, I'm currently obsessed with Megan Thee Stallions new song Cobra.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be more light-hearted, but once I started typing, your character just took on a life of its own.

At first, Gojo was set on being Pikachu and Suguru, Stitch. However, when I considered the vibes and personas of those characters (admittedly, I don't know much about them), I recalled that Stitch was hella sassy, while Pikachu was pretty mellow. So, it just felt right to pair them up with their corresponding characters.

Originally, Suguru was supposed to drive recklessly, offering a glimpse into his deteriorating mental state and potentially hinting at suicidal tendencies. However, I added a playful dynamic between Utahime and him for a lighter touch, though it can still be interpreted differently.

I didn't plan to wrap up this episode the way I did, but it struck me as a fitting method of foreshadowing.

Gojo caught on to your spaced-out moment on the train, his black-tinted glasses shielding the fact from everyone else. But, his eyes were locked onto you the entire time.

It's one of my shorter episodes, yet it delves into the emotional turmoil your character seems to be constantly navigating, even in situations where it shouldn't be the case, like this relatively peaceful episode. It just goes to show that even when everything seems all right, it really isn't.

Kento took into account Ieiri's personality and preferences, which is why he suggested a simple night out in one of the busiest places in Japan.

Contrary to expectations, Gojo didn't go to flirt with pretty girls. In truth, he just wanted to stay with you and Suguru as a way to compensate for all the isolation he felt.

The act of denying yourself the simple touch of Ieiri's hand holds a deeper meaning; it's a symbol of rejecting affection, perceiving it as a potential threat to your own being. It also mirrors your reluctance to allow her into your personal space. Yet, in your attempt to spare her sorrow, you seek alternative paths. However, this action is also symbolic of your manipulative tendencies. On one side, you're indifferent to the possibility of causing her pain, yet on the other, you strive to maintain a facade of camaraderie. It's a double-edged blade, where the latter is the subtler but significant edge.

Usually, when someone puts something on the ceiling, it's often a way to convey that the person attaches some hope or sentiment to the object. It's like they're looking forward to it or, at the very least, it holds strong sentimental value.

The piece of paper taped to the ceiling is a direct reference to a previous episode. Did you ever figure out to whom the card belonged? And why is it taped to the ceiling?

A meeting at the end of the month? What's that about?

Yet, the lingering question persists: What exactly is your relationship with Gakuganji?

...

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

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shinjisdone · 1 year

Text

When you have a Secret Admirer - and it's not them (Scarabia; 4)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.

'There are many students here and in comparison to them, I am just a speck between royalty, celebrities and prodigies...but still, I hope you can hear my heart and all that it feels for you...'

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 1: Heartslabyul

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Pomefiore

Part 6: Ignihyde

Part 7: Diasomnia

Surplus was an understatement.

It certianly was nice to have a few dozen vases filled with blue flowers everywhere and the herbs all helped you cheat your way into doing Crewel's practical homework real quick but it did get tiring after a few days - especially when your ghostly roommates and the cat would not stop pestering you from where they came from.

It seemed everyone else noticed your jaded expression as well and they were sharp enough to know that it wasn't because of school and - unfortunately - not because of this 'secret admirer' but because of them. They were curious, pestering, suffocating, they knew. So, until no news from that secret admirer reached them, they decided to leave you alone for a bit (and continue their case on finding that lovesick student).

Even a certain prince was able to notice how tired of the constant attention you seemed...

Kalim Al-Asim

Oh, well, look at that! It's you!

As air-headed as Kalim is, the news of a secret admirer dwelling here in NRC and bombarding the infamous Ramshakle Prefect with love and admiration has even reached his ears mostly because Jamil informed him

Since he never had been a witness before, it often slips his mind however, so he approached you like he always does - with a skip in his step, a huge wave of his arm before throwing it around your shoulders and giving you brief but tight embrace as a greeting.

Kamil is fond of his hugs and since he is such a sweetheart, you physically and legally cannot be mad at him, you swore to yourself.

He mentioned your tired expression you had the past days and invited you to one of his many parties - no parade this time, he will make sure that it will be actually relaxing to you! Just food, friends, chill atmosphere and doing whatever you want.

Since the prince did not mention anything of any admirer, love letter, gift or confession to you, you agreed. It'd be nice to hang out with him for once and Jamil was not the type to bother you.

So he throws his arm around you and ushered you to Scarabia's mirror. Before you knew it, you were there!

Things were as calming as promised aside from the usual shenanigans and you felt so strangely at home here. Though, you could tell everyone tried their earnest not to mention anything to you or in your presence...

Of course even Scarabia knows aaaall about it...

Though, you couldn't help but felt like you were being watched...

Jamil Viper

Well, this isn't a surprise seeing Kalim drag you into here.

Not that Jamil has anything against that...it is just, y'know...the rumors that aren't really rumors anymore.

A part of him thinks you being here will bring more trouble.

Still, he is glad you are here. He greets you like always, hangs around like always. It's as if he never heard a single thing about a 'secret admirer'.

Yet, well, he has. Very much so that it actually vexes him. Jamil is one of the few who are honest to themselves and not to anyone else - he knows who he is and what he likes. You having a secret admirer is something he doesn't like.

He wonders if he should tell Kalim of his worries that something might happen. But he was too occupied being your host that he just let it slide this time. He even ponders if Kalim is aware of what he is doing...is his sweet nature taking all over his senses?

The party was more like a get-together anyhow, with him and Kalim speaking to you the most and a few other students you've got aquainted with during...that incident (which Jamil wants to banish from his mind on one hand but can't deny it offered him more freedom than ever before on the other). Certain ones were even more talkative than the both of them...

Well, it's gonna be alright. He's just gonna keep looking out for you from the shadows (like always) while Kalim will be your ray of sunshine...

Nevertheless, no matter how bright the light tries to shine on the culprit or how deep the shadows grow so one can hide themselves in, neither Kalim nor Jamil and especially not you expected to first step into small puddles of the sweet spring water outside...

The leak led to said spring outside, the water, which was usually clear, was instead filled with thick, wet pink petals. Flowing down the tiny waterfalls while sticking to the royal white marble, it left a few studens slipping (and be covered in petals, too). A pit opens up in your stomach at the sight while simultaneously your heart starts throbbing faster, nervous sweat trickling down your flustered, red face. Jamil was the first to notice your befuddled state and quickly made work of finding the source of the overflowing water - it led to one door, through the kitchen and back to the lounge as he searched the place. Kalim was less distressed about it, casually passing by the silk curtains hanging from the walls and ceiling, until one got stuck in his headband...

Only the softest of tucks was needed to pull the entire fiasco into play. Kalim's careless yelp alerted everyone else before you got floored by what seemed a magically light, pink avalanche. Through the screeching you could barely make out that pink petals and fruits were piling upon you, leaving all attendants trapped beneath the sweetness.

You forced your eyes open, the items heavy but not enough to crush you. The sense of relieve you felt when noting that you could technically get up was squashed like a bug when one last petal fell down, as light as a feather, right in front of you. The pink letter turned for you to read its contents.

'My dearest (Name)

This is rather spontaneous but these one-in-a-lifetime fruits from the Land of Hot Sands happened to fall into my lap, literally. The flowers are fresh with thick, sweet petals and I couldn't be helped but be reminded of you when seeing them. I never thought a land with such a dry climate could'

The red ink stops briefly and new words were started at another paragraph. Your widened eyes follow with a thumping heart and bated breath.

Something was crossed out with the same ink before the actual words continued.

'-I promised to be honest, so when I saw these flowers and how their petals melt in my palms, a strong feeling took over me I dont know how to say this but I felt even more in love,its like a spell, I just kept seeing you when watching the petals, keptseeinglove-'

The writing was smeared into a fat splotch, finger prints visible on the tainted letter. The rest was crossed out, as much as you see from the lower part of the paper that wasn't scrumbled up.

Kalim Al-Asim

The first thing on his mind was to get everyone out of there!

As much as he wanted to laugh at the situation once he realised it wasn't that big of a deal, he quickly noted how tense and annoyed everyone was after this. Especially Jamil.

Not wanting to anger anyone any more, he cleaned everything up, let the ones who were hit the most rest in their rooms, get a shower, eat well, don't worry! - and he and Jamil took care fo the rest. Although, Kalim was the first to rush to your aid of getting you out.

You decided to get cleaned up at the Scarabia dorm too before heading home - and snatching the half-finished love letter before anyone else could see.

Kalim would switch between looking after his dormmates to you, cleaning up the rest to bringing you another warm and dry blanket, carrying something with Jamil to picking out the petals stuck in your hair. And you can be assured that he won't let you help out too, not that you had the strength for that, you are still his guest so just relax! as much as you can now, knowing from who...

After all is done, Kalim is all glued to you. As bold as he is, the young prince is fairly good at reading people and he knows something is up with you. There's somehting distressing you and he wants to help.

Almost like a mother he dotes on you gently and offers you to stay till tomorrow but accepts without hesitation that you just want to go home.

The prince feels bad. He invited you to relax and get your mind off everything but, he thinks as his eyes catch the glimpse of scrumbled up pink paper in your pocket, that all it did was fluster you even more.

For once, his brain seemed to work. He put two and two together and when he looked up from the paper to your flushed, red face, his heart seemed to break.

Jamil Viper

The first one to put two and two together (and much faster than Kalim).

While seeming lost in his work when cleaning everything up, Jamil was secretly obsessing over the thought that no, this was not a coincidence with all the pink things here, no this had to be about you and yes, perhaps this little plan of 'theirs' was unfinished. There's no way something like that was a gesture of love.

BUT why did it have to fall on him? All this work? Literally and figuratively? He mentally sighs.

As annoyed as he is by all this work (WHEN HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE RELAXING WITH YOU FOR ONCE) Jamil was more upset at the gall of this secret admirer. Now that he had witnessed this firsthand by himself and not having to listen to the distraught rambles of Ace and Floyd for once, he finally, finally gets it. Watching you so embarrassed and flustered is a one-of-a-kind experience and it stings evermore knowing it was caused by an unknown admirer.

Unsurprisingly petty at the thought of it. Why aren't you such a flushed mess with him? When he's around? Surely he had charmed you by being nice, cooking for you, helping you out of his free will??? Why have you not once noticed his advances as subtle as they may be?

Though Jamil gets it together real fast. He's vexed and he knows it so there is no need to think about you in such a way, especially when you are the most affected by it. He desperately hopes though that the effects are not positive.

The boy is busy and very glad that Kalim can look out for you in the meantime. As he runs back and forth between the rooms, he notices Kalim's dejected expression and your rosy red cheeks.

For once, he and Kalim share the same thought.

[ wanted to write more for them but did not fit into the atmosphere

tldr: kalim realizes that this was a GESTURE OF LOVE (jojo poses) and even though he knew you had a secret admirer, finally seeing this and seeing you seemed to create a pit his heart just falls into, swallowed by the abyss. he's frozen on the spot, not able to think clearly but knowing he doesn't like it. He's less cheerful because of this and cannot stop thinking about it. He first thought he admired the admirer (lol) for being so brave and showering you in gifts, which in his country is a normal and common way to express someone's feelings. but seeing it firsthand ouch, nuh-uh he does not like it anymore. Briefly thinks of 'fighting' the admirer by showering you in REAL gifts too, but decided against it. it would only make you more embarressed. he at least hopes you can find solace in his presence...he wants to help you.

JAMIL IS NOT AMUSED. He is almost on the same level of unpleased as azul or FLOYD (but less extreme and do not dare to compare him to azul) and he actively becomes more grumpy. the first and maybe only one to directly approach you and ask what is up with that and how you feel about it. if you dont like it, stop it (by asking anyone but Crowley maybe, jamil offers to help no problem (in fact, everyone would volunteer)) IF you do like it....stop it. get some help. let...let Jamil help you, let Jamil love you, fall in love with Jamil!!!!! He is so tired by being the second character of his own life already, he's not gonna let someone else steal the spotlight in your heart! if you'd let him, Jamil would stop giving hints and waste time and finally, finally ask you out.]

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland #secret admirer #scarabia #kalim al asim #jamil viper #twst scenarios #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader #twst headcanons

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nguyenfinity · 26 days

Text

bean and i have been locked in the kitchen, so like AU where beta niki is niki's older brother and otome niki is his younger brother right--

more below

Hiki (22 y.o.) - "nii-san" to his younger brothers; calls Niki "Nikkun"

dropped out of hs and left to travel and be a food journalist after the IncidentTM

pretty chill but would kill a man for his little brothers

rinne is scared of him (something something scary older brother, the 3 cm difference is the only thing keeping red guy from crumpling) (also hiki's basically another version of him and bro's good at dealing with anyone but himself)

he knows rinne is scared of him and thinks it's the funniest thing and will mess with him on purpose

super sensitive to taste, bro can taste if someone put in even 1 grain of salt

despite that he has horribly bad eating habits, bro has tastebuds gifted by the divine themselves but he's on his 12th pack of ramen this week

favorite is the instant noodles he'd make and share with his little brother when he had to watch him while parents were out working

sucks at cooking. rinne was scared of him until he saw him burn water

so chill with pda hes annoying and embarrassing they cannot kiss without him whistling or saying anything

feels guilty about leaving niki from running off to try to redeem the shiina name with his journalism

bicon

exes with oldest sakura nee-han (it's funny and they're on good terms)

drinking buddies with rinne, said nee-han and himeru post-reveal (older bees sibling crew)

Miki (16 y.o.) - "Mikkun" to his older brothers; calls Niki "Aniki"

stayed with other family in japan after the IncidentTM (niki didn't go with him 'cause he wanted to stay)

guilt from not visiting his aniki or trying harder to convince him to come with him to live with family

miki is an edgy brat, sweet but a brat niki: aw he's just a little angel what are you so worried about miki flipping rinne off behind niki's back:

Rinne once again thinking how he lucked out with Hiiro every time he interacts with Miki

niki spoils miki and miki clinging to his aniki cuddling up next to him being the first taste tester getting to choose what niki makes rinnekun on the side fist clenched about to blow a fuse thats his spot thats his job thats his choice and miki Knows

will play video games with rinne tho (sideeyeing the number of runs red guy has on niki's route in the otome)

cut his hair to be different from his brothers

has the opposite problem of niki, he doesnt wanna do food or chef work but all he's good at is food (specifically desserts and he would rather go to business school but he does enjoy making sweets with his aniki)

aroace

if rinne and niki kiss one more time around him he's gonna explode

gets flustered around hiiro in an "i wanna be friends but i'm bad at making friends" way 'cause he's so nice and genuine and excitable and nothing like his brother and rinne's like "yeah no he has a girlfriend"

tiktok kid, always has his phone on him; kinda famous?? people in his comments mostly just go "you look like that guy from crazy:b"

mario party nights with the younger bee sibling squad (hiiro, kaname, kohaku)

also gets into debates with them on who has the best oldest siblings

#enstars #niki shiina #beta niki nii-san isn't original bUT CONSIDER--#me: re. remember when we were like “wouldn't it be funny if shiina nii-san was named hiki” and now we have a miki #'cause we had talked about beta niki nii-san before and #also shoutout to the yamada bros for the naming conventions #their dad of course. is named reiki #all the text is a mishmash of ideas bean and i were throwing around #hiki/nee-han exes is a bean special #hiki jokingly tries stealing his brother's boyfriend sometimes #'go out with me instead~' type stuff #rinne in his head: oh so that's how it feels.#hiki and niki grabbing miki 'at least one of us has to go to college.'#there's probably more but this is already a big dump #shiina kyoudai

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mixergiltron · 24 days

Text

Spring has sprung.

It's Spring time in DC,which means we get to enjoy the beauty of the cherry blossoms. The weather wasn't so great this year,but they were still pretty.

(actual cherry blossom pic taken by Uncle Giltron)

And of course,there are Tiki drinks for this occasion.

Mix #160 Cherry Blossom

1.5oz white rum 1oz pineapple juice 1oz cream of coconut 3/4oz lime juice 1/2oz blue curacao 1/2oz cinnamon syrup

Shake well with plenty of ice and pour into hurricane glass.

Created by Justin Wojslaw,from the book Minimalist Tiki. Despite the name,there is no cherry in the drink,and it's actually turquoise colored instead of red. So it's pretty much the perfect drink for the way things work in DC. It's sweet and creamy with a cinnamon profile. Pretty good,if a bit touristy.

Mix #161 Cherry Pie Tai

1.5oz Demerara rum 1/2oz rhum agricole 3/4oz Cherry Heering 3/4oz lemon juice 1/2oz orgeat

Shake with ice and pour into Mai Tai glass.

I love Mai Tais,so a cherry version was perfect to go with the blossoms. Created by Nathan Robinson,it pretty much tastes like a tart cherry Mai Tai. Quite nice.

Mix #162 Paradise Cooler

2oz white rum 1/2oz Cherry Heering 1oz velvet falernum 2oz orange juice 1oz lime juice

Shake with ice and pour into double old fashioned glass. Garnish with cherry speared with an apple slice.

This was the house drink of the Denver Hilton in the 1960's. It's tart and citrus-y with some spice and a bit of cherry finish. Very nice. A good Tiki drink for cherry fans.

Mix #163 Hemingway Daiquiri

2oz white rum 3/4oz lime juice 1/2oz grapefruit juice 1/2oz maraschino liqueur*

Shake with ice until chilled,then strain into coupe glass.

*I used Cherry Heering.

So,the story goes that Ernest Hemingway went into the El Floridita bar in Havana to use the restroom. On the way out the bartender was setting up a line of daiquiris and Hemingway decided to try one. He commented that it wasn't bad,but he preferred twice the rum and no sugar. So the bartender made one his way and named the drink after him. And over time it has morphed into the recipe above. No idea if any of this is true,but it's a good story. Since Ernest was a man's man,I decided to use Smith & Cross navy rum instead of white rum. The result was a VERY tart drink. And I used Heering which is sweeter than maraschino liqueur. I didn't want Ernest's ghost to haunt me and call me a wuss,so I finished it,but if I were ever to make another I'd definitely dump in some simple syrup. If tart's your thing,then you might like this.

Mix #164 Ankle Breaker

1oz 151 rum* 1oz Cherry Heering 1oz lemon juice 1/2 oz simple syrup

Shake with ice and pour into double rocks glass.

*I used Wray & Nephew Overproof.

I came across this recipe in a Facebook group. According to Beachbum Berry's book Remixed,this was created in the Swamp Fox Room bar in the Francis Marion Hotel in Charleston, South Carolina sometime in the 1950's. It was inspired by a story about hero of the Revolutionary War,General Francis Marion(AKA,the Swamp Fox),who supposedly broke his ankle jumping from a second-story window of the hotel while trying “to escape sober from a party at which this drink was flowing too freely.” Again,no idea if this is true but a good story is a good story. While 151 rum is intended for this,the poster used Wray & Nephew Overproof(which is "only" 126 proof) and since I have W&N and have been meaning to use it more,I used it too. And since I like funk I also doubled down and used Demerara syrup instead of regular simple. Very nice. This drink is very daiquiri-like. The rum really came forward with just a bit of cherry finish. Of course with overproof rum it had some kick. I'm going to make this again with some other rums just to play around with it.

So until next time,have a cocktail and enjoy the pretty flowers.

#tiki drinks #tiki #tikiculture #rum cocktails #cocktails #rum drinks #rum #tikilife #spring #springtime #cherry blossom #cherry cocktails

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hazybisou · 8 months

Text

❛ DO THE WRONG THING ❜

💋👥 remove my ring, and do the wrong thing with you babe

summary - y/n finds herself in a secret affair with her next-door neighbor mat, knowing her husband is the sweetest guy she’s ever met.

pairing - f!married!reader x mat barzal

warnings - cheating, alludes to sex, a little bit into a sex scene (just the beginning)

side note - this was based off of a song called do the wrong thing by trish toledo! i don’t support cheating but in this case i must 👍👍 also the reader’s husband is a sweatheart so i feel bad for doing this to him and but he doesn’t really show up in this and ya know. yuhhh. also college is better then i thought and my roommate is really nice and chill like she’s amazing and a girl’s girl. (this shit went way too far during the first small sex part and i immediately regretted it and i hate it so much that i will never be writing like that again)

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

the moment she saw him, she knew she was fucked. he was fine as hell so of course it was hard to resist him. maybe that’s why she would find herself in his bed every once in a while, his arm wrapped around her waist, the covers of the bed over them, only covering them up to their waists. she’s married for christ’s sake. yet she was here with a man who hasn’t her husband.

y/n had met her husband, nathan, during her freshman year of college. they were great friends at first and then they kissed one night at a party. y/n was tipsy while nathan was sober. he knew they shouldn’t have kissed, especially considering the fact that she was drunk but that they were friends. best friends. but she put her lips on his.

they began dating a year later, the kiss never spoken of until a couple months after it had occurred. nathan confessed to her that he had feelings for her and she told him she did as well. it was true. she loved him. she loved him so much that they went ahead and got married at the age of 22 and 23.

y/n hated herself for what she was doing. she knew it was wrong of her to go and cheat on nathan like he was nothing. but mat made it difficult to resist.

he charmed her when he first met her one morning, on his way out to practice. she was just arriving from her morning workout and he was leaving for his. he went over and introduced himself.

“i’m mat.” he stuck out a hand and she shook it.

“y/n.”

mat stared at her for a quick second and noticed the way her chest went up and down. his eyes couldn’t help but travel down to her boobs and the rest of her body. he looked at her in eye and smiled.

“you’re a very beautiful women, you know that?” mat told her and she froze.

she didn’t know what to say. “i’m sorry?”

mat chuckled. “you’re cute. listen i got to go but if you ever need something just knock on my door, alright? i’m just next door.” he walked away after that and y/n just stood there for a second before she shook her head and made her way inside where nathan was still asleep and awaiting her presence.

y/n had stayed away from mat for a while after that. she couldn’t see him after their interaction that had happened to go like that. she was married. she had a loving husband, a great job, and a great life. she wasn’t going to let some guy waltz into her life and ruin that.

she couldn’t let him get in the middle of y/n and nathan’s marriage. nathan was sweet and cared for her whenever he had the chance. although he had work trips, he always checked in on her. he loved her even if they were miles aways and she loved him back.

maybe that’s why y/n regretted the decision she made a couple weeks later. nathan was on a work trip and she was stressed. she had a ton of paperwork to be filled out by the next day and she couldn’t do it. so she marched on over to mat’s apartment and knocked.

biggest mistake of her life.

mat opened the door and saw her standing there. he smirked a little and leaned against the door a bit. “what brings you by?”

y/n didn’t answer. not verbally at least. instead she just leaned forward and grabbed mat by the back of his neck and brought him down towards her, putting her lips on his. mat was shocked for a second before he wrapped his hands around her back and brought her closer, their body’s practically glued together.

the kiss turned messy. y/n had opened her mouth to talk and it gave mat a chance to slip his tongue in. the two had fought for dominance over the kiss but mat had won.

he pulled them inside his apartment shutting the door behind them. they pulled away for a second to catch their breath, their lips kiss bitten and swollen, cheeks flustered. “y/n that was-”

“shut up.”

she grabbed his head and brought him back in for more. nathan was the least of her worries as she said her next words. “i need you to fuck me.”

mat pulled away after that. “what? y/n are you okay? is everything okay?” he pulled his hands away from her back and let them rest on her waist. “you’re married! you have a husband who loves you. we shouldn’t even be doing this!” he objected.

y/n shook her head. “he doesn’t need to know.” she leaned forward and began to pepper kisses in his neck along with suckling at it, making mat moan slightly. “a secret.” a kiss to his jawline. “let it.” a kiss to his neck. “be.” another kiss. “our.” kiss. “litte.” kiss to his apples bottom. “secret.” she whispered the last word against his lips as she placed a kiss to them.

he didn’t kiss back for a while as he thought about this situation. she was married and was over here kissing another man, in his apartment. but fuck, did she look hot. he began to move his lips at a faster pace then her making it hard for her to keep up. he began to walk backwards, the kiss never breaking apart.

he walked towards the couch and felt his knees hit the cushion, making him fall on it, y/n following suite. she pulled away and straddled his lap, a leg on either side of his own. the two returned back to their makeout session and y/n felt mat’s cold hands run over her stomach, under her tank top.

y/n pulled away and began to kiss all over his neck. he leaned his head to the side, allowing y/n to gain more access to his neck. she rested her hand on the other side of his neck as she began to suck on it slightly making mat let out a low groan as he ran his hands over her back all the way up and down. “fuck y/n.”

she felt her underwear get damp at the action. “you like that?” she breathed against his neck as she continued to suck and lap at his neck. he couldn’t help but nod as he brought his hands towards her boobs, feeling that she wasn’t wearing a bra. he couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, giving them a little squeeze. y/n moaned against his neck.

“take it off please.” she begged and pulled away from his neck. mat reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it upward as she lifted her arms, making it easier for mat to pull it all the way off. he threw it to the side. he looked at her chest and noticed her nipples had hardened from the slight breeze.

“shit, you’re beautiful.” he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around her boob, beginning to suck at them, licking the areola. y/n gasped and pulled at mat’s hair. he groaned against them and y/n couldn’t help but moan at the sensation and pleasure he was giving her.

after a couple of minutes of sucking and licking at her left boob, her moved onto the other, his hand coming up to squeeze and massage the one he had previously been sucking. y/n’s breathing was fast and her heart was beating quick. she was a moaning mess and tried to keep it down, careful to not wake up the other residents considering it was pretty late.

“take your shirt off.” y/n said and mat just looked up at her through his eyelashes as he sucked on her boob and y/n groaned at the sight. “please.”

mat pulled away with a slight ‘pop’ and began to massage both of her boobs. “you are perfect, i really hope you know that because if you don’t then i will keep saying it.” y/n laughed and just leaned down to kiss him as her hands ran down to the bottom of his shirt. she pulled away and stripped him free of it, throwing it behind the couch. he grabbed her face and began to kiss her, harshly.

mat moved her so she was laying down on the couch with him on top of her. his hands roamed all over he body, her boobs, stomach, legs, thighs, anywhere he could get his hands on.

he began to kiss down her body starting at her neck, spending a little time there in order to form dark purple bruises but soon remembered that her husband would see them and he didn’t want her to get caught so he just continued kissing down her body. from her neck to her boobs to her stomach and finally to her thighs.

the pajama shorts she was wearing were small, her ass hanging out a bit. mat began to pepper kisses all over before grabbing her shorts and pulling them down, along with her underwear, throwing them on the floor. she was bare before him. she had exposes herself completely to him and fuck, was she enjoying it.

mat began to kiss everywhere but where she wanted him. he moved upward and pressed a kiss to her lips. “if we do this, there’s no going back.”

y/n nodded. “i know. i know what i’m doing.”

mat’s eyes flickered between hers before leaning down and kissing her one last time before kissing his way down towards where she needed him the most.

y/n knew what she was doing was wrong. yet she couldn’t help it. y/n and mat had sex. even if she was married.

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

the sun was up and the light came through the curtains that billowed softly thanks to the wind that came through the small space mat had left opened. mat laid in bed, his arm over y/n’s back, who was sleeping on her stomach. the two had moved to the bed some time last night.

y/n began to stir awake as she kept moving. she slowly opened her eyes and was met with the window and the sun rays that caused her to squint and close her eyes. she turned around and saw mat there, still asleep. she smiled softly as she saw his chest go up and down with eahc breath he took. he let out soft snores as he-

nathan.

y/n suddenly thought back to her love. her husband, the person she promised she would love for eternity and would never let go. yet she let him go in a way. he was to come back from his work trip the same day in a couple of hours and she sure as hell didn’t want him to find her here, in mat’s bed, naked.

she tried to unwrap mat’s arm fron around her yet his grip got stronger. he pulled her closer to him and just rested his head on top of hers, snoring softly.

“mat i need to go home.” she whispered to the man who snuggled closer. “mat i’m serious.” after getting no response she grabbed his arm and moved it with all the force she could muster.

mat whined, “noo. i was comfortable.” he opened his eyes and gave her a death stare. “come back.”

y/n shook her head and went into the living room where her clothes were before she put them back on and re-entered mat’s room. “i need to go home and you have a job to get to.”

“i don’t have to leave until later though and neither do you.” mat told the girl who stood with her arms crossed.

she walked towards the bed and began to crawl on top of him until they were face to face. “but i have a husband that is too be back very soon and will be waiting for me.” she whispered as she leaned down to place a slow kiss to his lips. “so why don’t you stay here and relax until you have to leave and i go home and wait for my husband to get home,” she pressed another kiss to his lips, “i’ll be back soon.”

mat stared at her for a while. “but soon won’t be soon enough. for all i know it will take you two weeks to come back to me,” he brought her closer. “i can’t wait that long.”

y/n laughed. “i promise you i’ll be back sooner then you think. patience, sweet boy.” she kissed him one last time and was about to pull away when mat pulled her in closer and deepened the kiss.

he sat upright and began to attack her neck with kisses and y/n let out a laugh but more of a moan. “m-mat i really have to go.”

“5 minutes. just stay another 5 minutes and then you can go.” he said as he began to reach under her shirt and squeeze her hips.

y/n pondered the idea, “5 minutes and that’s it mathew.” she let a breathy moan.

she felt mat smile against her neck, “i knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

oh, y/n knew she was fucked.

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

half the time i don’t even know what i’m writing, i js do it. also i will never be writing that detailed(ish) ever again. it is not for me. also mat barzal playing the electric guitar js does smth to me😫 the man he is i swear. (i should go to sleep since i have a morning class tmrw but i won’t so yayyy)

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #new york islanders #ny islanders #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #isa’s works 🦭

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abibliophobiaa · 8 months

Note

Steve - planning 🫣

the one where you and steve make the most of being locked in a wine cellar.

s.h. x f!reader, little mean, unprotected p in v hate (is it really though?) sex. 18+ (1.2K)

——

“Gonna turn around for me, baby? Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come.”

His hands worked at the fabric of your dress. Hiked it up and over the slope of your ass, giving it a hard slap. Rubbed a soothing circle over the span of it with a mocking coo when you hissed. The sting ached low in your cunt, throbbing in tandem with your heartbeat. You muffled your moan into a forearm, palms braced against the stone slab wall, nail polish likely chipping from your bruising grip.

“Don’t wanna look at you,” you bit out, clenching your teeth as his fingers glided along the flesh of your backside, the seam of your thigh, stopping at the edge of your panties. “Just want you to fuck me, Harrington. That was the deal.”

“One time,” he repeated, toying with the dainty lace fabric covering your soaked slit. You nearly sobbed as he pushed the material to the side and glided a thick digit across your heat, trailing lazy circles around your clit, teasing along your center. Pressing, and yet not sinking in. You cursed low on your breath. “Just to get it out of our system since we’re locked down here anyway.”

And even that had been silly. A proposed idea after the weeks of arguing between the two of you. Like an old married couple, Eddie had joked, before you tossed a pillow at his head and Chrissy nearly shrieked at you for endangering her ‘lovey’s’ face so close to the wedding.

“Yeah,” you growled out, whirling around in his arms to face him. “So what’s it gonna be?”

And it wasn’t like you hated Steve Harrington.

You just — didn’t like him.

He’d been nothing but jovial, cocky even, always flashing his daddy’s credit card, trying to “one up” you on wedding planning.

Oh, you booked a nice little room with a view for the joint bachelor and bachelorette party?

Yeah, well, he’d upgraded it to a lofty five-star hotel overlooking the beach.

Oh, you had work and couldn’t help them put together centerpieces?

Harrington swooped in like Batman himself, ready to save the day.

It was infuriating. And he took pleasure in it. Some sadistic pleasure, mouth always twitching when you accepted your defeat.

He was just — too good, too perfect, too this, that, and all the things you hated.

But fuck it, if he wasn’t handsome.

Perfect nose, sculpted arms, that gorgeous face, broad shoulders and arms that now bracketed you on either side, enveloped you close.

His kiss was dominating. Mouth crashing into yours as he backed you against the stone wall.

The slabs chilled your back, the low swoop of your dress exposing it to the elements. Indents from your fingernails likely carved into the skin of his shoulders you clenched as he muttered, “Hold onto me,” into your opened mouth.

Thighs were hiked up and over his hips, your backside coming up to rest against a shelf.

“Hurry,” you rasped, aware that any moment someone could walk down those stairs and find the two of you like this.

Bodies pressed close, mouths connected, fingers roaming over exposed flesh. With a groan, the man before you pushed his pants down and over his thighs, cock slapping up against his stomach, eager for you. Impossibly long and thick enough to have your eyes widening, mouth watering.

He snickered. “You know, this is the quietest I think you’ve ever been. See something you like?”

“Shut up, Harrington.” You barked, but there was little bite. “I hope you know how to back up that ego of yours.”

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” he teased against your collar bone. The asshole dragged his head through your slick folds, grinning widely as it caught against your center, eliciting a desperate unbidden plea from your lips. “What did you just say?”

Another drag.

Up and down, tapping at your clit until you jolted in his arms, caging him in tighter with your vice grip around his hips.

Steve leaned down, the ghost of a kiss along your lips, the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw. Traced the path of your pulse to feel it jump as his cockhead prodded at your center once more.

“Please.”

You conceded.

Waved the white flag.

Accepted defeat.

Welcomed it willingly.

“Now was that so hard?” He mused, pushing in and robbing you both of air. “Ohmygod.”

“Move,” you stuttered out, eyes clenching shut in tandem with your cunt as he pulled all the way out and slid back in, hazel eyes roaming your face as he watched your reactions. “Fuck, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Wasted all that time fighting when we could have been doing this.” He gasped again, pulling back until you ached with it, before pushing in until you were so utterly full and deliciously split open on him. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

His pace hastened, gaze dropping down to where you were connected. Watched himself fuck into you as a hand kneaded over the dough of your ass, holding you tighter to him.

“Look so good taking me like this, baby.”

Heat crawled up your spine at his words. His long fingers reached between the two of you, gliding over the soft fabric of your dress. Settled over your clit, determined fingers ready to make you come.

Hazel eyes flashed behind your half-lidded gaze, mouth rounding in a broken keen as he pressed down and circled, the pace of his fingers starting to match the languid drag of his thick cock inside of you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good —”

“Steve, Steve —”

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasped, lips pressing tight against yours, fingers wrapping loosely around your neck in a way that had your hand gripping at the globe of his ass, spurring his hips on harder against yours. “Want you to come on my cock. Make a mess all over it. Want it —”

It was too much. The sound of your slick mixing with his between your thighs. The fleshy slaps of his thighs hitting the backs of yours. The grunted breaths. The dizzying fingers between your thighs. The way he drove into you, relentless and determined. The weight of his body against yours.

You shattered, forearm draped over his shoulders tugging him closer to muffle your cry of “Shit!” into his chest.

He came apart after you, holding you close in his arms as his hips stuttered against yours. You wanted to hate him as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the curve of your cheek. Wanted to hate him as he tucked himself into his pants and helped you down off the shelf he’d propped you up onto — as he helped smooth down your dress and fix your messy lipstick.

There was little time to think about it, however, because the door swung open at last and Chrissy called down into the open cellar, “I’m so sorry, guys! We just got back from the store. We didn’t know you were down here still.”

But neither of you minded. Not as he pressed a hand to the small of your back and guided you up the stairs. Nor as he remained at your side, like a boy with a sordid secret, as you stepped into the main room and found yourselves greeted by Eddie and Chrissy, opened a bottle of champagne on the table between them, glasses already filled. As though they’d started without you.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie called, grinning toothily. “Your shirt is on backwards.”

He glanced down, and your cheeks burned.

…Because he’d never taken it off.

——

#Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x reader smut

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tojiluv · 2 months

Text

EYES DON’T LIE — choso kamo [chapter five]

description: in which a girl unwittingly becomes involved with a handsome stranger in a club, oblivious to his true identity of being in a famous boyband… OR in which you and Choso must conceal your secret meetings from your friends and his bandmates, especially from his younger brother and your best friend, Yuji.

warnings: fem! reader. conflicted feelings. yuji is the sweetest. tiny angst if you squint.

notes: short chapter, next one will makeup for it!

The next day had passed since the celebration party for Hallow Domain as you got to meet the whole band with your friends, thinking that everything would have been great. Yet it was the total opposite of what you had predicted, way far from your results.

After confronting Choso about the situation and agreeing to pretend that it never happened for Yuji and the sake of your friendship, he dared to admit that he never regretted that night, even after knowing it was you. That confession alone made your mind tumble on what you were truly feeling about hooking up with your best friend's brother.

"I didn't regret that night at all and still don't."

Why did he have to say that?

You don't remember most of the night after that conversation and just woke up in your bed in your pajamas with a slight headache, not knowing how you got there. You panicked and called Yuji immediately, asking him what exactly happened last night.

"Well, after you returned from the bathroom you said you were feeling better and started to drink a bit more. I did try to stop you but you were persistent to drink away, then you tried to jump on top of the tables with Nobara until Megumi and I stopped you both." Yuji recalls, laughing slightly as he heard you groan over the phone.

"Please tell me I didn't..." You whined, holding your aching head as your eyes clamped shut to try to reduce the pain.

Yuji sighed, aware that he was probably shaking his head at you over the phone. "Oh, but you did, my dear friend."

You sighed, laying back down on your bed before shoving a pillow against your face, wanting the world to shove you into a black hole forever.

"Don't worry, you didn't do anything crazy! I made sure you wouldn't. Afterwards, we said our goodbyes to everyone and took you home." Your friend reassures, knowing that you were probably embarrassed for doing too much the night prior.

"Who dressed me?" You asked, voice muffled behind the pillow with the phone lying beside.

"Maki did since, you know, she's a girl and was sober too. We left you some water and made sure you were safe before leaving," Yuji states, yawning tiredly. You could hear him shuffling around in his bed, probably just woke up around the same time as you did.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your untamed hair, "I'm sorry if I made things difficult for you guys, don't know what came over me." Oh, but you did know why you probably acted out.

"I didn't say anything... you know, uh, weird?" You asked nervously. You desperately hoped that your drunken self had the strength to not mention or even hint about what happened with Choso.

"Hmm, I don't think so. Got any dirty secrets you keeping from me?" Yuji chuckled, not being able to witness your dreaded face at how true his joke was. You felt like your heart dropped until you forced out a chuckle to make sure he didn't become too suspicious of your behavior.

"N-no, just wanted to make sure!"

After that call with Yuji, you hadn't seen him bring up that incident during the day, rather asking you how you felt about meeting his brother over text. You kept it short and simple for him; 'He's nice and seems pretty chill', that was all you could say about him before your guilty conscience could slip out the truth in front of him.

The weekend was over and it was now Monday, two days had passed with a peculiar tension hanging in the air, a weight you couldn't quite shake off. Every time you were around Yuji, you found yourself second-guessing your words and actions, afraid that he might pick up on something you weren't ready to confront.

As for Choso, you tried your best to keep your distance, avoiding any situation that might lead to another awkward encounter whenever you came by Yuji's home. Luckily, he wasn't home whenever you came by during the rest of the weekend. But despite your efforts, his confession lingered in the back of your mind, like an uninvited guest refusing to leave... though, for some odd feeling, you didn't want him to leave either.

After classes were finished for the day, it wasn't until you were in the library studying with Yuji that things took an unexpected turn. You were sitting at the desk, absentmindedly tapping your foot on the floor with books surrounding you, when he suddenly brought up the topic you had been desperately trying to avoid.

"So, I've been thinking," Yuji started, his voice slightly hesitant. "About what you said a few days ago."

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. You prayed he wouldn't delve deeper into the subject, but fate seemed to have other plans.

"I can't shake this feeling that there's something off," Yuji continued, his gaze fixed on you, searching for any sign of hesitation.

You swallowed hard, trying to come up with a convincing response, "I—I don't know what you're talking about, Yuji. There's nothing wrong."

But even as the words left your lips, you knew they sounded hollow, even to your ears.

Yuji's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding.

"I trust you, you know that, right?" He said gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "But if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me about it. I'm here for you, no matter what. You're my best friend, always."

You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. How could you betray his trust like this? You forced a smile to appear, nodding in response.

"Thanks, Yuji. You're mine too, always."

But deep down, some secrets were too heavy to bear alone, knowing that it was pushing you down into the dark endless rabbit hole with no way out.

⇽ chapter four | chapter six ⇾

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a-kaash-me-outside · 11 months

Text

a bit dirty - ch4

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch4 | next [masterlist]

// not the worst idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 9245 ᴡᴏʀᴅs (ooo, long chapter yw)

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more bathroom fucking, casual osamu, meeting friends!~ ah! names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, this is the angst chapter, it's very small angst tho, fixes itself in the same chapter ily, developing feelings fr, afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

the chime of the entrance bell rings as osamu pushes open the front door, two brown bags of groceries in each arm as he greets you with, “can’t believe you’re here before me.”

“morning to you too,” you tease, rushing around the bar to meet him and take a bag or two from him.

“thanks,” he says as your fingers brush up against his forearm and your heart thumps a little too loud given that you literally just took groceries from him, but you’d argue that it’s not just the groceries, it’s the tone of his voice and his grateful look and the way that you swear his arm moves with your touch just to feel it a little longer.

“course,” you reply, walking back into the kitchen, osamu right behind you, and setting the bags down on the stainless steel countertop. you start pulling things out of the bag, vegetables and sauces and kitchen staples, and he starts putting them away in their respective pantry.

“thanks for closing for me last night,” he says as he walks back over to the central table where you’re placing all of the ingredients.

“no worries,” you say, shaking your head, “that’s why you taught me,” you reason.

“that’s true,” he replies.

you empty the last of the bags, folding them neatly and placing them in the cupboard. “how was your brother’s anyway?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“really fun,” osamu nods, mulling over something in his head as he continues, “it was nice to just chill on a saturday night for once.”

“i bet,” you smile, “bet you’re glad that I offered to learn to close, huh?”

“definitely glad that i trust someone else enough to close for me, yea,” he says, slightly altering the phrase for the better.

you’ve only been closing for a handful of months now, were taught a couple of weeks after you returned from the catering event, a couple of weeks after you had sex with osamu for the third time, but on the fucking clock. meaning, it has been a handful of months and some odd weeks since you’ve mentioned anything about yours and osamu’s relationship and what the fuck the two of you are doing or not doing.

you’d think that not mentioning a boundary might be better, easier to navigate if no one has explicitly told the other that it shouldn’t be happening, but the truth is that it’s actually much more difficult. neither of you are sure where the other stands, what their feelings are on the matter, and that fact has led to a standstill.

not for your job, of course. your job has never been better. you’re still learning every day, you and osamu are still working really well together on the shifts where you’re a team of two, you’re happily taking on more responsibilities and osamu is happily trusting you with them, you trust each other.

but the scope of your relationship, since you knew who he was, of the trust and the easy conversations, has only ever been within the boundaries of work, until he mentions, “you should come next time.”

“what? to your brother’s party?” you ask, and you’re sure you sound as in disbelief as you feel.

“it’s not really like a party,” he says, “there aren’t enough people there for it to be like a party. it’s more like just a small hang out.”

how is that better comes out more like, “then who’ll close for you?”

“we’ll just throw everything in a paper bag and deal with it the morning after,” he explains, because he’s thought about asking you and the intricacies of you saying yes before the words left his mouth, “‘ve done it plenty of times before.” you don’t answer right away, mulling over the ramifications of accompanying him to an event like this.

“if you don’t want to,” he says, and you recognize that hesitancy, the embarrassment, like he’s made a mistake by putting himself out there, by trying to progress your relationship and navigate this really weird time where the two of you don’t know what the other wants.

“no!” you say, abruptly, maybe a bit too loud, “i do! i absolutely do.”

“are ya sure? i know sumu’s a lot, but he won’t be the only one there, sakusa’ll be there and our friend, suna. they’re way more chill. not sure we could all take it if we had someone else in our group like sumu,” osamu explains and excuses all at the same time, slightly rambling, but you’re looking at him like he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

there’s no mention of aran or any other coworker you know and it’s just nailing in how much of a non-work event this is, no social safety net to catch you or to lean back on. osamu will be the only one you really know there. he looks at you, patient for an answer.

you’ve already made up your mind, know exactly the response you’re going to give, but he just makes it even easier as he says, “i won’t leave your side, swear.”

you laugh, head falling from your spine, goofy smile, you’re sure, on your face as you nod, “then i’d be stupid not to, huh?”

/\ /\ /\

true to his word, the next time that atsumu has a small hang out, osamu invites you. he plans it all out too, schedules the two of you to work together that night, takes responsibility of driving you there and getting you home safely, double checks that you actually want to go, gives you plenty of time and a lot of grace to back out, but you don’t.

the night of the small hang out, osamu is ready to leave onigiri miya promptly at 9pm. the checks are punched, the money is counted, and the receipts are safely stuffed in a bag for you to sort out tomorrow when you open. you change into more casual, less work uniform clothes in the bathroom, grab the bag of onigiris that osamu has packed for sakusa and suna, and then you head out.

“so which one of these friends is the one that was with you and atsumu at the club that night?” you ask as you wait for him to lock the front door. translation: which of these guys knows that we had sex in a dirty club bathroom?

“omi was there with sumu and i that night, but we’re all really close,” osamu answers, walking down the street towards his parked car. translation: they both know that we had sex in a dirty club bathroom.

“how do you know them anyway?” you ask before offering a small thank you to osamu opening the passenger side door for you.

“omi started as sumu’s friend, really, but then the two became inseparable, and sumu and i are practically inseparable, so, y’know,” osamu answers, “and then suna and i have been friends since high school. honestly, been the four of us for a really long time.”

“well, i’m excited to meet them,” you say very truthfully, “especially if you say that they’re more chill than atsumu,” you add, even more truthfully.

osamu laughs, “definitely,” he says, “they’ll love ya.”

the warmth rises to your cheeks, sweat to your palms, and you shift in your seat, turn your body slightly to face him just a touch more, to see the comfort in his features and the softness in his eyes. your heart a subtle drum, echoing in your ribcage, and as your fingers crawl against the center console, creep towards his resting forearm, the rumble roars reverberant.

the tips of your fingers brush against his wrist and it’s like he’s expecting it, arm overturning, thumb brushing against your palm before threading his fingers with yours like that’s where they’re meant to be. it’s without explanation and void of any reluctance or questioning, reciprocated and assured.

and you really wish you could make better sense of this.

/\ /\ /\

you assume that atsumu will answer the door given that it’s his place, but your assumption is wrong. when osamu knocks on the door, it takes only a few seconds for someone, you deduce suna, to answer it. he throws open the door, greets osamu with a wave and then you with nod. “yo,” he says, and then holds the door open for the two of you to step inside.

“suna,” osamu says, gesturing towards you, “this is yn.” it’s almost weird for your name to come out of his mouth. he doesn’t say it very often. sure, he does say it, but he doesn’t use it to get your attention and when he does refer to you, it’s not usually in front of you, so you don’t normally hear it.

“nice to meetcha,” suna says, awkward smile and even more awkward body language as he steps further into atsumu’s apartment. “you work at the restaurant?” he asks, and you know that he knows the answer to that question, but he’s just trying to make polite conversation, and you do appreciate it. you nod. “cool cool,” he nods back.

you already feel like you’re failing at socializing, that osamu is regretting inviting you in the first place, but then he starts talking, conversation directed towards you. “yea, the other day at work, this weird ass guy came in and was practically hitting on you while he was ordering,” he says, practically starting a story, and it works.

“oh my gosh, yea,” you say, nodding as you follow suna into the living room, “he was ordering different dishes, but changing words in the titles to, like, make them pick up lines?”

suna laughs, furrowing his eyebrows, “how does that even work?”

“well, that’s what i was thinking, right,” you say, “but he was really creative, i don’t even remember what he was saying, all i remember was that my first thought wasn’t even oh this is weird, it was how long has he been thinking of this or is he a genius?”

“well, what happened?” suna asks.

“i basically called samu over pretending to be confused about what he was ordering because i really wanted him to hear what-,” you say and as you’re explaining, suna walks into the kitchen.

“keep going, i’m listening,” he calls out.

“oh, yeah, so, samu came over and the guy just starts talking completely normal again and i even tried to call him out on it, like, repeated one of what he said before back to him and-,” you say as suna returns, three beers impressively held in one hand, one in another, reaching out and offering it to you. “thanks, -and he just looked at me like i was the weird one.”

suna passes one of the remaining beers to osamu and sets another next to sakusa who is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. “that’s insane,” he says, shaking his head, “so weird.”

“really weird,” you agree.

“i always feel like there’s weird shit happenin’ over there at oni-,” suna says, but is cut off.

“hey! the star employee,” atsumu calls out as he enters into the living room and the loudness of his voice and the forwardness of his statement is unintentionally making you feel small very quickly.

osamu rests his hand on your lower back, a silent signifier of the promise he made to you in the restaurant when he asked you to come, that he won’t leave your side.

“hey atsumu,” you say, only attention given to his comment a small laugh at the end of his name, “thanks for having me.”

“i told samu that he should invite you over, hang out with you outside of work finally,” atsumu says, flopping onto the couch next to sakusa, arm flung around him, pressed up against his side, very in his space. “isn’t that right, omi?”

“the only good piece of advice i think you’ve ever given,” sakusa says, deadpanned, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when suna chokes on his drink and throws a thumbs up his way.

“that’s a point for kiyoomi,” suna calls out, “if we’re all keeping score at home, that’s kiyoomi 162 and atsumu 1.”

atsumu sits forward, “that’s because you guys never give me well deserved points. what about the other night when i said that really funny thing and then i was like see that’s point worthy? and then you guys said-”

“not if ya ask for it,” osamu says, “that’s the most basic rule and has cost ya so many points, but ya still keep askin’ for em.”

“if he doesn’t ask for em, how’ll you guys know when he’s being funny?” you joke and the instant that it leaves your mouth, you’re so worried that it won’t land or that it’s too mean, but sakusa chuckles and suna laughs even louder than before and osamu smiles proudly.

“that’s a point, that’s gotta be a point,” suna says, nodding, head looking back from sakusa to osamu. sakusa nods shortly and that’s enough for suna to laugh even harder. “tsumu, you’re tied for second, but she’s gonna surpass you before the night’s over i bet.”

osamu nods over to the couch as atsumu starts yelling at suna. he walks over with you and sits down next to you, arm draped over the top of the couch, just barely ghosting over your shoulders, and all you want to do is lean your weight into his side, but instead you stay upright, rigid almost as you hold the bag of onigiris in your hands.

sakusa spots the bag as it drags on the floor, looks down at it and then raises his eyebrows at you. “you brought gifts?” he asks and you offer him the bag, leaning forward to hand it over. “thanks,” he offers, instantly rooting around to find his favorite and tearing it open.

“don’t get rice on the rug,” atsumu says, interrupting his argument with suna, clicking his tongue.

“fuck off,” sakusa answers, biting into the onigiri again.

“look, at least eat it over a plate,” atsumu complains, standing up and walking into the kitchen to grab a few small plates. he hands one to sakusa and another to suna, grabbing the bag from sakusa’s feet and throwing it to suna’s.

atsumu is starting to seem less and less scary.

/\ /\ /\

halfway through the night, atsumu is walking around picking up little pieces of trash and dishes that sakusa or suna have left, complaining loudly at every single one. “you guys are horrible guests, y’know that? ya’d think that i’d have ya over enough times and ya’d start cleaning up after yourself.”

sakusa and suna and osamu all ignore atsumu’s complaining while he’s in the living room, but the second that he disappears into the kitchen it’s more direct, “samu!!!!! come help me with the dishes,” atsumu yells.

“dumbass, it’s your party, you clean up,” osamu yells back.

“you always help me with the dishes,” atsumu whines.

he refuses to leave you alone. he made a promise. and you love having him here, sitting on the loveseat with you across from suna and omi, but they’re talking to you and they are, indeed, much calmer than atsumu, not that you thought he’d lie to you, and you’re enjoying your conversation a lot. “you go ahead,” you say, steady look thrown his way to prove how truthful you’re being and he hears it all loud and clear. he nods, smiling, leaving the three of you alone in the living room.

/\ /\ /\

a bit later in the night and the only two people in the living room are you and osamu, but there isn’t any space to show for it. you’re pressed up against each other, legs draped over his thighs, practically in his lap, pointing at the frames on atsumu’s walls and the photos inside of them and the stories behind them, finishing whatever number beer this is.

you don’t even really remember getting into this position. it was either gradual enough to not notice the shift little by little or the change felt so natural there wasn’t a before and after, only a now. your spine is pressed up against the arm rest, backs of your thighs resting on the upper tops of his, your hand resting on the grasp he has on your knee, and the way that you’re pressed together isn’t even the most intimate thing about the two of you right now.

because osamu has been telling you a story for the past twenty minutes about the first year that he opened onigiri miya. you knew the jist of it, the broad strokes, the big details. you knew numbers and dates and first recipes, but hearing about his soft open and how his regulars became regulars felt much more telling.

you didn’t know about his somewhat rocky start or the fear of taking out a loan to fund this dream of his or how terrified he is of failing to this day, but you do now.

when he tells you, his voice is steady, genuine, and his eyes are comforting and grateful, and everything about the way that he speaks lets you know for certain that he isn’t just telling this story to everybody. as he finishes, patches up all of the gaps in the story that he skipped over and any details that he might have missed, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his bicep. you rest your head on his shoulder, tucking your feet underneath you, knees resting on the side of his thigh, and he exhales, kisses you softly on the top of your head and says, “thanks for listenin’, angel.”

you turn to look at him, to rest your palm against his cheek, to thank him for telling you, but you don’t get that far, startled by the loud yell in the kitchen.

“you’re fucking so dumb,” suna laughs, the metalic sound of keys jingling follows, gets louder and louder until sakusa and suna and atsumu all emerge to pass through the living room to the front door.

“idiot hosted a party and ran out of beer,” suna explains to the two of you as he pushes atsumu towards the front door, “we’re headed out for a refill. need anything?” you’re increasingly grateful that no one, not even atsumu, has made mention of how entangled the two of you are on the couch.

“are ya sure you’re okay to drive?” osamu asks, look thrown over his shoulder to atsumu.

“omi’s drivin’,” atsumu says, pressing an obnoxious kiss into the side of his cheek, “only had like 2 beers all night, first one was hours ago.”

“i’m cool,” sakusa says, nodding, and osamu doesn’t press a single second more, evidently trusting him.

“see ya in a bit,” atsumu calls out, back towards you, waving as the door is pulled open and suna and sakusa leave in front of him.

when the front door closes, despite the alcohol in your bloodstream clouding your thoughts a tiny bit, the realization hits both of you that you are alone, off work, not at work, and you both really love the way that the spots on your skin in contact with one another feel. you don’t say a word, let the silence settle in, too occupied with your own thoughts to try and formulate them into sentences, too worried about whatever might be going on in osamu’s head.

his touch pulls you out of it, a gentle finger coaxing you to look up in his direction, dull nails scraping against your jaw, thumb nudging your chin, and this is the first time that a moment like this isn’t brought on the forwardness of your words. you melt against his warmth, push your cheek into his palm, turn your head and kiss his thumb. there’s no timer counting down in your head, no rushing to get this moment over with in time, even though there maybe should be some urgency, you just want to be here, present.

he moves you slowly, but confidently, reaching over to guide you by your hips until you’re seated in his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs. this position is so new for the two of you, you on top, him looking up at you, the softness of cushions beneath you.

you wrap your hands around the back of his head, thread your fingers into his hair, pull down gently on the locks until his neck is completely stretched, lips are as close to you as they can be without you having to move. he looks so pretty, waiting, expectant, patient, needy. you like this position very much.

the slight pressure where your fists reside in his hair, this faint lost look in your eyes from having this tiny inkling of control, the weight of you in his lap, how your head tilts back as you pull his back, mirroring the motion you’re trying to achieve. you look so pretty, trying, out of your comfort zone, longing, restless. he likes this position even more.

he tugs you forward, shifts your balance, and you’re crashing into him, arm reaching out to brace yourself on the back of the loveseat, face inches from his. all he has to do to close the gap is sit up. your lips are soft, kiss is hard, and you shift your arms to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into you.

you feel like a teenager, kissing your crush on a living room sofa, giddy and sappy and smiling as he wraps his arms around your lower back to press you closer into him. you smooth your hands down his chest, his stomach, press your fingertips into the inside of his thighs, nails scratching against the fabric of his jeans.

“missed you a lot, samu,” you admit, forehead against his for a tiny breath break.

“and i missed ya even more, love,” he shoots back, one peck pressed into your lips and then another. “i don’t think i can wait this long to kiss ya again.”

you shake your head against his, “please, don’t.” you kiss him again, more passionate, breathless. you need him to feel how much you need this, how badly you need for him to not leave you alone for this long again. “promise me,” you mumble against your plea.

“promise,” he says, pulling away to look up into your eyes, “wasn’t plannin’ on it.” you claw your fingers into his thighs harder and osamu bucks his hips up into you at the touch, a soft groan leaving his chest, a knowing smile on his lips in response to your devilish one.

“we’re right by the front door,” osamu warns, leaning into the crook of your neck, kisses placed against soft skin, fingers molding around your hips, dipping down the back of your skirt.

“you’re strong,” you reason, half-joking, “you can fix that.”

one second you are on the couch and the next second, you are not. you are in osamu’s arms, tiny squeal as he lifts you effortlessly and walks with you down the hallway. when he pushes open a door with your back and sets you down, it’s not nearly as plush as you’re anticipating it being. you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

“you really want to fuck in your brother’s bathroom?” you ask, curious, but impatient smile on your face.

“you really want to fuck in my brother’s bed?” he shoots back. osamu’s laugh tells you everything that you need to know, an easy nudge that just says, trust me, and you don’t have to walk down the hall and take a peek into atsumu’s bedroom or have osamu spell out all of the reasons that he thinks fucking in the guest bathroom is a better idea.

it’s clean, really clean actually. neatly decorated, virtually untouched. small, sure, but you and samu don’t need an ocean’s worth of space, the two of you could make do in a stall. the glass of the shower is residue-less and the white solo-standing sink across from it is practically sparkling. the window is slightly cracked and the carpet on the floor in the middle of the room is soft.

“yea,” you lean forward after a minute of surveying the area, hopping down off of the edge of the sink, “you’re right.” you rest your forearms on his shoulders, fingers clasped behind his neck, pulling him into you.

you can’t move osamu like he can move you, not even close. you pull on his neck, one hand on his shoulder, trying as best you can to wordlessly guide him into the position that you want him to be in, but he’s too engrossed in kissing you, in feeling your soft lips and tasting you. if the roles were reversed, you’d already be turned around right now, moved with strong hands in steady positions, but you’re struggling to silently communicate that you want him to be up against the sink right now.

“samu,” you whine against his lips, forehead pressed against his and now he’s kissing your pout, “lemme move you.”

oh my god, if he couldn’t have snapped right there, kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, fucked you until you couldn’t walk, given you everything in the entire world, every last grain of sand and drop of water, told you that he loved you or that he needed you or just that he wanted you to stick around forever. instead, he nods, can’t hide his smile as he moves in the soft direction of your pull, focuses on your gentle coaxing touch.

he moves until the pressure stops, your hands drifting down his chest and then his sides, palms digging into his hips, driving his lower back against the sink that you were just sitting on. osamu doesn’t ask any questions, isn’t the slightest bit curious as to why you’re moving him or what you have in store. he can see it in your eyes and your assured movements, the unfolding of desires and plans, and he’s very happy to just be along for the ride.

you’re slow to lower to your knees, even slower to place your fingers on his belt, ghosting touch skimming over the leather and against the cool metal buckle. osamu is filling in everything in his head, swallows harshly before a shaky exhale, “fuck.”

you look up at him with doe-like eyes, happy for once to be the one seeing the ruin in his lust-blown eyes and the anticipation on his face. “haven’t been able to get the feeling out of my head,” you say, eye contact steady as you pull his jeans down over his thighs, watch him watch you as you inch closer to his heavy cock, jaw falling open and his eyebrows furrowing in response. “of your cock on my tongue.” his response comes in whimpers and tensing forearms and a tighter grip on the edge of the sink.

fuck, he looks so pretty waiting like this, trusting you like this, hips pressing forward the slightest fraction just to get that much closer to your lips. his lips are slightly parted, bottom one moving with every unsteady exhale, a subtle blush in the highs of his cheeks. you can’t tear your eyes away from him, not as you take his drooling head into your mouth, slide the underside of his cock against your hot tongue.

“angel, fuck,” he grunts, “mouth’s so perfect.” he wants to touch you, to grab you by your hair and sink deeper into your mouth, but your hands are soft on his hips, fingers tucked up the hem of his shirt so he can feel your nails scraping against the skin, and you’re being so slow and so caring and savoring every drop of precome and twitch of his cock.

his knuckles are practically white, all restraint shown in the grip he has on the edge, because your mouth feels so warm and so wet and so good, but it feels even better knowing that you’re taking care of him in exactly the way you want.

you wrap your lips around his head, tongue laving over the slit and spongy tip, spit and precome gathering in your mouth, swallowing as you take more of him. your lips get tighter as you swallow, tongue slips against his length. it’s harder to focus the deeper you take him, the further his fat cock causes your jaw to open, the farther his thick head hits the back of your throat. moving your head back and forth on his throbbing cock, the image of him blurring as you move faster, but you’re determined to watch him unravel even heavier.

he’s leaving it completely up to you, the pace and the depth, and it’s so different for him to give up control and just let you do exactly what you want to him, but he misses the feeling of some part of you in his hands. it’s like you can read his mind, eyes flickering to his uneasy hands itching to feel something much more human underneath them. you slide your hands down his tense forearms, moving one to the side of your face and threading your fingers in the other. he doesn’t take advantage of this, this closeness to your mouth and your movements, only curls his dull nails against your warm skin.

you hum at the touch, vibration from your throat sending shivers up his spine, and if he watches you care for him so sweetly just another second longer he’s not going to be able to stop himself from coming down your throat.

“sweetheart,” he mumbles, low and whiney. you hear him, but you don’t want to, too enveloped in the heft on your tongue and the fullness of your throat and the familiar taste. he mumbles again, tapping two fingers gently against your cheek to get your attention, “bunny, hey.”

the air is cool compared to your encompassing mouth and tight throat, and osamu silently curses himself for saying anything at all. “hm?” you ask, side of your palm coming up to your bottom lip to wipe away the gathering sheen. he pulls you back up to your feet, hand strong on the back of your thigh as he presses you against him, heavy cock nudging into the fabric of the skirt between your legs.

his lips skim yours, not completely a kiss, as he speaks, “y’know what i can’t get out of my head, doll?” you shake your head, pleading eyes flickering to his lips, hanging onto every word, “how pretty you looked on top of me earlier.” the whimper this elicits from you drives osamu mad, large hand spanning your other cheek as he pulls you into a deep kiss, moving with you to the floor.

sitting with you in his lap, one knee bracketing either side of his hips, osamu is now very grateful for the stupidly expensive, surprisingly soft rug that he failed to convince his brother not to buy. the heel of the palm of your hand on his sternum drives him down to the floor, looking even more up at you now as you circle your hips, rubbing the thin cloth of your panties against his leaking exposed cock. “like this?” you ask, breathy and somewhat timid to be in control despite the fact that osamu was patient putty in your hands mere seconds ago.

he nods, hair messy against the rug beneath him, and you can only assume that another part of your slight discomfort is that, sure, you’ve had sex with osamu in bathrooms, more times than you should’ve to be honest, but you’ve never had sex with osamu lying on a bathroom floor, and for some reason, this feels even more filthy than any times before.

but osamu rests his hand on your thigh, pushes the fabric of your skirt up so that he can look down at the dark spot on your panties and the way they bunch and tighten as you slide your covered pussy against his throbbing length, bucks his hips up into you, lifting you off of the ground just enough to make you gasp, and yea, no, this feels incredibly right.

you brace yourself on his sternum, lift yourself up slightly to move your panties to the side, no patience or want to climb off of him and take your panties completely off, you want him inside of you right now. “could eat you out so good like this,” osamu says, eyes drifting up your body before settling on yours.

you shake your head. you want him inside of you right now. “next time,” you mutter, sinking down onto him slowly, inch by inch, and it just keeps fucking going. you tilt your head back, chin to the sky so that your moans have a better path to leave you. “samu, baby, fuck.”

when you’re finally seated completely on your cock, it’s like you can feel it in your stomach and in your throat, you’re so fucking full, he’s so fucking deep inside of you, you can barely fucking take it. you’re whimpering, tiny tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you babble, “fuck, i- you’re, mmm,” you shake your head, hand frantic to interlock with his as you circle your hips, not wanting to be without a single inch, “samu, fuck, so deep, you’re- i’m- i can’t- you’re so fucking deep inside of me, baby.”

he can barely take it either, so deep inside of your tight, clenching walls, completely surrounding him. every one of your tiny movements, every shift and circle and squirm, forces him to show restraint. he loves this view, this feeling, will continue to wait as you get adjusted and continue your fucked out babble no matter how badly he wants to flip you over and fuck you as hard as he can until you’re squirting all over the rug beneath you. “i know,” he chokes out, “i know, babygirl, i know.”

when you start to move, it’s nothing drastic, miniscule movements that don’t require much effort, pushing your hips forward, pulling them back, leaning towards osamu, tilting away. you can feel him move inside of you, but he stays this deep. all the while, you’re slurring nothing to him, tidbits of gratitude and cries of pet names, and if you’re this ruined already from this little, god he can’t wait until you’ve reduced yourself to tears, until he has to pick up the pieces and coax you through orgasm after orgasm.

he presses his fingertips into the fat of your hips, helping you along, picking you up a tiny bit more every time until you’re forced to follow the motion, pushing up onto your knees and letting yourself fall back down, skin clapping harshly against the tops of his thighs. you push his shirt up, desperate to feel the tiny prickles of sweat forming on his soft stomach and his heartbeat against your palm closer. every crash back down, a tiny exhale expelled from your lungs, out your quivering lips, so fucking cute.

“goin’ so slow, angel,” he says, not an objection or an issue, tone steady and in awe, practically an admiration. you nod at his words, barely any room in your head for them amidst the so full so full so deep so fucking full and deep and so full so deep inside hes so deep inside of me im so full of him.

your thighs are starting to shake, barely even breaking a sweat, but your core is tight and you can feel how sloppy you are around him and how all of your juices are dripping down his cock, can hear the sticky sound of slapping skin when you fall back onto him, and, “‘m so- gonna-,” you whine, “samu,” you whine louder, fat tears falling down your cheeks because you want more, need more, but you can barely even think straight, “please.”

he loves looking up at you, so pretty and needy, wouldn’t trade it for the world, so he’ll give you everything you want from down here. he drives his hips upwards, hands on your hips to move you against the weight of gravity as best he can. he’s barely even started fucking you when you tighten around him, flooding even more, soaking his cock, a throaty, “coming” matched with your eyes rolling back, fist forming around the fabric of his shirt.

you reach out, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink, other hand plastered against the glass of the shower door as bounce up and down on his cock. your movements are unpredictable, not as steady as his thrusts nor as rhythmic, but driven by instinct and whatever you think you need right now.

“wanna-,” osamu says, looking up at you, out of breath, pushing up the hem of your shirt to expose your stomach, “have to see your tits, pretty girl.”

your shirt is gone, bra undone, and as you continue moving yourself up and down on his cock, you realize this is the most undressed you’ve ever been fucking osamu. you’re not sure exactly how that makes you feel, but you figure you’ll have time to deal with the feelings later, because right now, osamu can’t keep his hands off you and you’re newly exposed skin.

he’s running his hands up your sides, hands groping your bouncing tits as they follow the quick, harsh movements that osamu is causing. his thumbs flick over your nipples, fingers dig into the fat, and he really can’t believe he’s never gotten to play with your tits before.

you can feel him everywhere, under the backs of your thighs and deep inside of you and over your chest and you’re coming again, clenching around him, grip tight around the sink as your thighs shake even harder, your movements weaker, slower, doll-like, as osamu fucks into you faster.

you’ve barely come down from your high before you’re ready to come again, thick cock splitting you open, hitting the deepest parts of you, filling you so perfectly. you’re so tight around him. you can feel every single throb, every strong pulse, and when osamu sits up, braces himself on his arm behind him, pulls your chest into his face with a gentle hand on your shoulder, you can’t help but cream all over his cock again, his name falling off of your tongue repeatedly.

he can’t fucking take it, how tight your walls are, how creamy you’re making his cock, how sticky the tops of his thighs are. “princess,” he says, a warning, “where do you want it?”

“on my-,” you breathe, you know exactly where you want it, “want it on my pussy.”

“fuck,” he says, shaky, “of course, baby, fuck.” he pushes forward further, creates a gap between the two of you as he leans you back, making sure that you’re able to brace yourself in the same way that he is before letting go of your lower back. he pulls out of you, thick cock resting on your sloppy pussy, hips bucking to slide the underside against your sensitive clit and soft skin.

he wraps his fist around his cock and you watch in awe, pupils wide as you stare down at his tight grip around his throbbing length, the way his thumb swipes over the head as he gets to the top. you reach forward, wrapping your own smaller hand around his cock. he’s so thick, so weighty in your hand, and every pump of his cock coaxes a throaty grunt out of osamu, eyes floating from place to place, on your cute hand around his fat cock, on your pretty tongue swiping over your bottom lip, on your bouncing tits as you stroke him faster.

if it hadn’t been so long since he’d fucked you last, he’d have forced himself to last all night, just to watch you jerk him off all night, until your arm got so tired that he had to take over for you and all you could do was watch or use your other hand, awkward movements and slower pace, but different grip to get used to.

another time, he thinks to himself as he thrusts up into your hand slightly, spilling over the side of your fist, thick load leaking out of the tip of his cock and onto your already messy pussy, creamy ropes landing on the insides of your thighs and on top of your pretty cunt and cute clit. you lean back, fingers still wrapped around his cock loosely as you use your other hand to smear his come between your legs, mixing his mess with yours before sticking your fingers into your mouth.

your fingers are barely out of your mouth as osamu kisses you, hard, so hard that he nearly knocks you backwards, sitting up onto his knees to angle your head up towards him. he wants to tell you so bad, wants to say fuck it to all the voices in his head and the fear in his bones and just admit it to you. the look in your eyes when you pull away doesn’t make it any easier.

but your hoarse voice and your giddy smile and your shy, “should probably clean up before they get back, huh?” pulls him out of it. he laughs, short and airy, presses another small peck into your lips because he can, and then helps you to your feet.

“maybe one day we’ll be able to, like, actually clean up with a shower or something instead of just,” you gesture to the toilet paper in his hand, “this everytime.”

osamu smiles, grabbing your shirt in the corner of the room and extending it to you. “maybe that one day could-”

you didn’t hear the key in the lock or the door open, but you do hear atsumu throw his shoes against the wall and very loudly call out, “we’re baaack.” you look at osamu because you’re not sure what to do, half dressed, still a mess, rug undealt with and very loud evidence of something happening in the guest bathroom.

“it’s so late, why are you being so loud,” suna retorts. you can hear the three sets of footsteps as they move in the opposite direction towards the living room.

“where are they?” sakusa asks, and now you can hear the footsteps spread out, all beginning to look in different areas of the apartment, bags set down on coffee tables, doors opened.

“how do we play this?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed, chewing on your lip thoughtfully, and osamu wants to just forget about making a smart plan and stay here and fuck you again instead or maybe just kiss you until everybody leaves or falls asleep. “samu,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face, “do you want your brother to know we had sex in his bathroom?”

no, no he most definitely does not. he shakes his head, thinking just as hard as you are on a good solution, on maybe sending you out first or walking out together quickly and hoping they don’t notice where you’ve come from or sneaking out of the window perhaps. you throw your shirt back on, straighten out your skirt, clean yourself up as best you can as osamu continues cycling through plans in his mind.

“they fuckin’ bolt?” suna asks, probably in the kitchen or atsumu’s room, you can’t quite place the footsteps.

“maybe a good night for samu,” atsumu jokes, and you can hear the pop of a can opening and a soft oof as he throws himself onto the couch, unbothered now by wherever the two of you have gone.

“fuck off, miya,” sakusa sighs. “probably just left because they didn’t want to be around you anymore. wish i fuckin’ could.”

“another point for omi, count it,” suna says.

“what?” atsumu laughs, breezing past the taunts thrown in his direction, “i’m just sayin’ it must be nice to have an employee fuck buddy.”

your heart is thumping louder, harsher. you feel trapped in more ways than one, deeper than just not knowing how you’ll leave or get home, but in your own mind. you’re not looking at osamu now, embarrassment spreading through your entire body, showing evident on your face and in your shrinking posture.

“you fucking serious?” suna asks, “you think they’re still…?”

“c’mon, he’s gone, fuck you think they went?” atsumu jokes, and you wish his words weren’t as firm or loud or correct.

“i never said that,” osamu says, quietly enough to not breach the barrier of the door, “i’ve never called you that, or said anything like that, i sw-.”

“i should probably go,” you say, not hearing or not listening to whatever osamu is saying right now. it didn’t really matter what osamu said or didn’t say, it’s the perception that you didn’t want skewed in the first place, and here it was, twisted and contorted and confirming your biggest fears about falling for osamu as you did.

“wait,” osamu says, hand reaching out to softly wrap around your wrist and as comforting as the touch is, as much as you want to melt into it or ask for more, you wriggle out of his grasp. “hey,” he says, softer now, just trying to get your attention. “how do you think you’re going to get home?” he asks.

“i’ll just get an uber or something, i don’t know,” your voice is shaky, weak, confused, hurt.

“no,” osamu says, taking a step closer to you, “no, you won’t. i’ll drive you back.” you shake your head. surviving an entire car ride with osamu after hearing whatever atsumu just said seems like an impossible feat.

you don’t want to leave, but you don’t want to stay here. you can’t listen to another word, don’t want them to continue speaking or hear what else atsumu thinks of you. you don’t want to face them, god, you don’t want to face them, but hearing the rest of this conversation seems somehow even worse. you turn, opening the door to the bathroom, face warm and palms sweating as you take a step out into the hallway.

osamu moves to grab your hand, to pull you back in, to just talk to you for a minute, but the second that you’re in the hallway, despite how badly you just wanted to quietly tiptoe to the front door undetected, you’re noticed. “shit,” suna says, under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to understand the gravity of the situation.

“thanks for having me,” you say, not looking at anyone, not directing the sentence towards anybody, shoes slipped on quickly, door opened quickly, and bounding down apartment stairs as you hear your name being called from behind you.

the commotion behind you starts, an “are you fucking kidding me?” muffled by the closed door, rushed footsteps down the hall, and then the noises of the apartment becoming louder as the door is opened once more. you’re outside by the time osamu calls your name again.

the instant breath of fresh air that fills your lungs is already calming your nerves, sending signals to your brain that it’s okay to start sobbing, the wind will dry your tears. you’re grateful that you don’t listen right away, that it takes a few seconds for your muscles to catch up with your thoughts, because the door flings open behind you, a huff of breaths following the sound of it closing, and jogging footsteps running to catch up with the distance you’ve created.

“wait,” osamu says, but you don’t stop, not sure you could even if you wanted to. you don’t know where you’re going or why you won’t just stop and talk to him, but you keep walking, one foot in front of the other down uneven pavement. “yn, wait, please,” he calls again, voice closer, projecting over urban noises and passing cars. when his fingers wrap around your wrist, the feeling of warmth and the beat of your pulse in his hand scream louder than anything you’ve heard tonight.

you turn around and the thoughts and signals have caught up with you, blurry vision amidst a lash line of tears, and you wait. you’re grateful for the distortion, for the unclear picture of osamu standing there, face solemn and unsure how to proceed, how not to lose you, and you can’t wait anymore, “fuck, samu, what are we? what is this?”

the words are tumbling out of you now, every worry and clouded judgement from the moment you walked through the doors of onigiri miya, “fucking one time in a club before i even worked there, that’s fine,” you shake your head, pulling your wrist out of his grasp softly, “fucking once at work after close, okay maybe less fine. fucking in a hotel bathroom in the middle of a catering shift? definitely crossing a line there.” you list off your endeavors, remembering them all perfectly well.

“now, we’ve just fucked in your brother’s bathroom, off the clock and not work related. and your brother referred to me as an employee fuck buddy,” you say, chest aching as the phrases leaves you, “i mean, am i? what is this?”

he doesn’t leave you waiting for an explanation, doesn’t speak over you, he’s kind and attentive like that. “i never called you that. i never said that about you, yn.”

“fuck, samu, it doesn’t matter,” you say, though you suppose it’s a slight lie. the weight on your shoulders and your chest is a bit lighter now, but not entirely gone, “that’s how they see me.”

“they don’t even know about any of those times after we knew each other, only the first time, only that first night,” he explains, but they’re not the right words. they’re soothing some anxieties in you, but not the right ones, but you don’t know which anxieties are the right ones.

you close your eyes or turn your head, it doesn’t really matter, you just can’t see him. it’s dark outside and you can’t focus on much despite there not being much to focus on, and your voice snags as you say, “if i wouldn’t have made a big deal about this,” you swallow, even softer now, “would we have left that bathroom and skated around the idea of fucking each other until something snapped?”

the tears have breached your lash line, have fallen down the inner corner, dripped off of your chin and onto your shirt below. “and what?” you laugh, “then we’d just repeat the cycle again? and then again? and i’d never be anything other than your employee fuck buddy, i mean fuck, samu, come on.” your voice is desperate now, cracking and confused, and he’s just standing there, patient and listening.

“it’s never been about how you view me or how you feel about me,” you shrug, back of your hand smearing tears and mascara against your cheekbones. “or it has, but just,” you groan, frustrated, “i know you care about me somewhat or in cyclical doses, i’ve never doubted that, i just want to know that even though you haven’t called me that, that’s not what you think of me too?”

“of course not,” osamu says, instant and assured. he reaches out again. you let him this time, cup the side of your face, wipe the few remaining tears, pull you closer to him, but not into him, there’s a difference. he just wants you to look at him. “i’m sorry,” he says, eyes darting around your face, not knowing where to land, “i didn’t mean to make it this difficult. i was trying to be respectful and do it right and-,” he takes a deep breath, “all i want is to be with you.”

he continues on, voice soft and thick, soothing all of the right anxieties, “i’ve been thinking about you nonstop since that night at the hotel and i swear to god if we stayed another night, i would’ve spent it with you in my bed, in my arms, but we left and i didn’t- we didn’t-” he takes another deep breath, talks softer now, a tiny scoff preceding his words, “it’d be easier if i could just kiss ya right now.”

you’re nodding because he’s right and because your shoulders feel light enough for you to do that now and because everything that he’s saying is the everything you want to hear, but that’s not the reason he’s saying it. “no one’s stopping you,” you breathe.

you don’t have to meet him halfway, he comes to you. presses his lips against yours, snakes his other hand up to the other side of your face and holds you still as he takes a step into you, body close, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer if he can.

he pulls away, breathless and the question is already leaving his lips before they’re off yours, “can i take you out?”

your first instinct is to laugh, and you do, because you know his schedule and his next planned night off. “you? get a night off?” you scoff, shaking your head, “who are you going to have close for you? me?”

he laughs, huge grin accompanying it because it’s so easy when you’re around, “no, no, i’ll figure something out,” he breathes, shaking his head harder, “it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you say yes and that i get to take you out on a date, a real date, and then we get to do real date things, and after date real date things.”

your laugh is louder now, lowering your head into his shoulder as you joke, “i don’t know if i can get the weekend off. my job’s pretty important to me.”

he kisses you again, absolutely beaming as he pulls away. “please just say yes so that i can start making plans.” when the joking fades and you’re standing there under shitty streetlight and nonexistent moonlight and you can see the seriousness in his kind eyes, you don’t want to keep fucking around, you just want to say yes.

you want to cross the boundary of hooking up and weird feelings and move forward to kissing at work and carpooling home together. you want to break this cycle and start new ones, ones with less confusion and more domesticity. you want definitions and declarations and dates and labels.

“alright, alright, yes, god,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows, waiting a beat before taking a breath and then his face into your hands to place a soft kiss onto his nose. “i would really love to go out with you finally.”

seconds pass and then minutes and osamu is just happy to be out here on the sidewalk with you in his arms kissing you every other second, and you’re just happy to finally be in a place where you don’t have to worry about the next time you get to kiss osamu again.

you’re the one that breaks the silence, a soft smile on your face unmatching the tone of your sentence, giggly and giddy and somehow just as needy. “can’t believe i’ll get to fuck you in a real bed.”

you’re expecting some form of scoff or laugh or half-joke or disbelief, but he grins at you, drags his lips against the side of your face, and says low in your ear, “i know, angel, can’t wait.”

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starsandhughes · 1 year

Note

what about either sissy and jack smoking or quinn seeing her smoke for the first time and getting mad at her

the first time you and Jack got high, it was after Jack’s first NTDP game. Quinn, the good big brother that he is, came from UMich to support him and meet his teammates that you and him have been gushing about.

after the amazing win by the team, Alex told you all about this party he knew some seniors were having. after physically begging on your knees, Quinn agreed to drive you, Jack, and Trevor to the party while Alex drove Cole.

“Quinn, we’re sixteen. we’re allowed to have some fun!” you told him in the car ride as he was lecturing you all to be safe. “and i know damn well you had some wild nights when you were in NTDP because i’ve gotten quite a few drunk calls from you.”

“i know,” Quinn sighed. “i just worry about you, Sissy. guys can be terrible.”

“if you think I’d let anything happen to y/n, you’re insane,” Trevor piped up.

“she’s a big girl, Quinny,” Jack added. “this isn’t even going to be a big party. Alex just happens to know the guy that’s throwing it, otherwise we wouldn’t have even heard about it.”

Quinn calmed down and told you all that if you didn’t text by 1am he’s coming to get you. He did the normal big brother talk of “don’t drink too much if you do” and told Jack over and over again “don’t let Sissy out of your sight.”

Jack was right, it wasn’t a huge party like in the movies, but it had a decent amount of people. you found Cole and Alex fairly quickly, and they led you all outside to meet the guy that was throwing the party, John.

“and who’s this pretty lady?” John asked from his chair.

“my sister,” Jack said before you could speak.

“y/n, my name is y/n, hi. nice to meet you!” you greeted him.

“you smoke?” John asked. you shrugged, “i’m open to trying.”

“Sissy, i don’t think—“

“she’s her own person, isn’t she?” John cut Jack off. “don’t worry, i’m not going to force you. we’re all chill over here! but if you’d like, i’ll let you take the first hit of the next blunt i roll. it normally goes to the person who rolls it, but for your first time i’ll make an exception.”

you decided to stay and smoke with Alex’s friend, which means that all of your friends decided to smoke, too. it wasn’t Alex and Cole’s first time, nor Trevor’s you learned, but it was yours and Jack’s. John lit the blunt for you and told you how to properly inhale. he even made sure his friend got you water before hand just in case you coughed too much. to all of their amazement, you didn’t. which was a weird thing to be amazed by, in your opinion.

“alright, little Hughes!” John laughed.

“little Hughes?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“you’re Jack’s sister right? isn’t that your last name?”

you smiled and agreed, happily taking on the last name. you looked over at Jack and he was beaming, too.

the rest of the night was spent outside smoking with the circle growing to ten people and two blunts being passed around. given that it was your first time, you had an extremely low tolerance and had to cut yourself off before everyone else when your head felt heavy. a water bottle was placed in your hand by Trevor and you nursed on it until the worst of it faded and the muchies arrived.

time had flown by, because suddenly it was 1:15 and Quinn was outside to pick you all up. he was polite to the rest of the people outside, but you knew the truth. he was not happy. you bid your goodbyes and walked hand in hand with Trevor back to Quinn’s car for support. it was silent the whole drive back. you normally sat up front, but Jack took the spot and shoved you in the backseat. he knew before you did just how mad Quinn really was.

luckily, Jim and Ellen were asleep since they trusted Quinn to get the four of you home safely. but even if you got a lecture from them, the one from Quinn you were anticipating was going to affect you much more.

“Trevor, go to Jack’s room,” Quinn said flat as you all walked up the stairs. Trevor did nothing but squeeze your hand as he parted ways into Jack’s room while the three of you went into yours. You and Jack sat on the edge of your bed as Quinn paced back and forth. It was like a movie scene where the kids were waiting to be yelled at by their dad. “i cannot believe you two! Jack, you were supposed to make sure nothing happened to her. what if the weed was laced, huh? then what? you two could’ve died!”

“Quinn, i know you’re upset, but you have to admit that you’re being a bit overdramatic with what could’ve happened,” Jack said. “the guys that let us smoke with them were smoking it, too. they cut her off when it was getting too much for her, and i barely participated because i decided to be the one not overly fucked up incase one of us greened out.”

“so you were perfectly fine with us drinking? alcohol can kill you if you drink too much! you can green out, but weed doesn’t kill you!” you argued. “and i know damn well you’ve smoked before!”

“it’s different for you, Sissy!”

“so you’re just mad at me then? not Jack? just me? that’s fucking ridiculous, Quinn,” you spat.

“because i know you, y/n! i don’t want you to get a dependency on weed instead of feeling things! and i don’t want you to turn to harder drugs when that stops working!”

“Quinn…” Jack said shocked.

“you think weed will be a gateway drug for me? is that what you think of me? i’m not that stupid! yeah, maybe i liked how it felt to be high. maybe i liked how peaceful it made me feel. maybe i did like how the guys that i met because they called me little Hughes and i finally felt like one. maybe i had fun tonight, but i know what drugs can do to people. i know what drugs do to the people that love them. i wouldn’t do that to any of you, and especially not to you, Quinn.”

you all went silent. you had small tears slipping from your eyes, and Quinn still looked mad at you.

“just because you’re protective of her, it doesn’t mean that you have to be hard on her. you’ve done it, so you know it’s not that big of a thing. what you said wasn’t okay, Q. you’ve watched her grow up. she grew up with us. she’s not that type of person,” Jack defended you.

Quinn sighed and ran a finger through his hair. he walked over and sat next to you on the bed to hug you, but you scooted away to be closer to Jack. the brothers looked at each other astonishingly. you have never refused Quinn’s touch or proximity. ever.

“Sissy, i—“

you cut him off by walking out of the room. you flung open the door to Jack’s room and threw yourself into Trevor’s arms sobbing. Trevor was quick to hold you protectively in his arms when he saw Quinn following you in.

“i’m going to take a guess here and say that she doesn’t want to see you right now,” Trevor said in a warning tone. “i don’t know what you said, but i do know that you two don’t fight, and that none of you can remember the last time that you made her cry, so i suggest that you leave.”

Quinn firmly stood his ground, “no. she’s my best friend and i’m not going to bed fighting with her. y/n, what i said was fucked up and i am so incredibly sorry. sorry doesn’t begin to cut it. i’m not just upset that you smoked, i’m upset all of you did, but i had to convince mom and dad to let you go to that party with the guys. so if something happened to you, i’d never be able to forgive myself.”

Jack got into his big brother’s face, “did you mean that? because i swear to fuck, if you’re guilt tripping her—“

“Jack, it’s okay,” you assured him. you got up and walked over to Quinn, “i’m going to need a little more than just sorry.”

“what i said was low and unacceptable. Jack’s right, you grew up with us. our parents pretty much raised you. and weed isn’t that big of a deal, i just don’t want you to end up using it as a coping mechanism. even if it is safe, it’s not something to abuse,” Quinn said.

“i guess if any one of us is going to use weed as a coping mechanism it would be me,” you mumbled. “but i didn’t like the accusations. because if anyone is ever going to save me from going off the deep end it’s you, Quinny.”

Quinn pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around his waist and just appreciated standing there with him for a moment.

“i’m sorry i was dramatic. you’re right, weed isn’t a gateway drug,” Quinn admitted. “i just-“

“don’t ruin it,” you said. “thank you for your apology.”

you let Quinn go after a long moment and he said his goodnights to everybody. you texted Cole to make sure him and Alex got home safely, hugged Jack goodnight, and took Trevor to your room for some sleep. you two had been doing sleepovers recently. just a… friendly thing.

“you know i’d save you from going off the deep end, right?” Trevor asked you.

you sat up from laying on his chest to look at him, “z, between all of you, i’m never going to find the middle part.”

#penalty box series #penalty box series: imagines #penalty box series: blurbs #penalty box series: quinn hughes edition #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #jack hughes #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #alex turcotte #cole caufield #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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real-jane · 2 years

Text

you don't say

[bucky barnes x disabled!reader]

summary: you matched on a dating app, but you didn't tell him that you use a cane. bucky's response is not what you expected. it's better.

warnings: mention of smut, but mostly fluff and insecurity on both bucky and reader's part. autumnal vibes all around.

a/n: i became disabled in the last few years and i have really struggled with needing a cane to increase my mobility, especially where dating is concerned. i wrote this as a love letter to myself, and other babes who are processing what it means to accept love as a disabled human being. enjoy. <3

***

You didn’t tell him.

If the last six were a good litmus, it was for the best. Apparently being that honest with a man you met on a dating app was to be avoided at all costs. The goal, ultimately, was to have him say: “You’re prettier in person,” and then flush like he was comparing the version of you in his head to the reality before him, and coming up wanting.

Bucky was his name. He hadn’t proposed anything rigorous–he liked coffee, as did you. It wasn’t like he suggested a Central Park marathon for your date. You weren’t even sure how you matched; it probably happened when you left your phone unattended in the same room as Natasha–whose taste was much more varied than yours. Adventurous. It’s not that you wouldn’t have swiped in interest over Bucky, 39, Brooklyn. But not until he swiped first.

That wasn’t entirely true. You remembered his face popping up as you doom-scrolled for Jesus, on a two day pajama pity-party bender. Consuming Norah Ephron films and cheap cabernet, you swiped right on any man with kind eyes who didn’t have a fish picture in his array. Which… the pickings were slim. But his face–Bucky’s–appeared beneath your thumb as Meg Ryan met Tom Hanks at the top of the Empire State Building on your third watch-through of ‘Sleepless in Seattle,’ and it felt serendipitous. Bucky, 39, Brooklyn looked very serious, and he had a white long-haired cat. You swiped. He swiped. He was nice in his first message…

Hi�� I’m new to this, but it looks like we both hit the magic button.

So, there you were.

You arranged to meet at eleven–you were at the coffee shop by ten-thirty, so you could sit by the window and not have to walk towards him. You tucked yourself into the booth and stashed your things on the bench seat beside you, eager to meet the first guy who said yes to a date since you got back on the horse, so to speak. Nevermind that you hadn’t told him the whole truth.

When he walked in–ten minutes early–he scanned the little cafe until his eyes fell on you. His expression went from hardened and serious to… bashful, almost. He recognized you right away, and there was no way you could mistake him either.

What was that thing about people being prettier in person?

He was dressed in layers to combat Autumn in New York (comfortable in varying shades of blue and brown) with leather gloves on, which shone like they hadn’t yet been worn before that day. So like a native New Yorker to wear the same tattered coat… but quality, definitely an expensive peacoat which could last him several generations… but buy brand new gloves when the slightest chill sets in.

Bucky was scruffy, like he couldn’t quite bother to shave but every few days. You didn’t mind. When he approached, he had vibrant energy, like it was all packed up inside with nerves.

“Hi. Sorry. I think we had the same idea,” he said breathlessly as he approached. He held out his right hand to you. You grasped his fingers automatically, but he didn’t shake. He squeezed softly, and then pressed it between his own.

“It’s Bucky. I’ve already had coffee. Too much. I was nervous. But if you still want some, I’ll just get decaf.”

“Y/n. To be honest, I did the same,” you chuckled, nodding to the half-empty carafe on the table, which your waiter had left after the third refill in twenty minutes. “It’s nice to meet in person.”

“I don’t do this kinda thing, I gotta warn you.” Bucky shucked off his coat and slid into the booth across from you. The gloves remained. He had a loved but noble corduroy blazer on, over a henley. “Dating. I hate the whole conceit.”

“You’re two-for-two!” You grinned. “My roommate got me on the apps. They can be blamed for seventy-five percent of my daily dread.”

“What’s the other quarter?”

“Global warming, and getting shat on by pigeons coming out of the subway.”

“Fair,” he said, smiling. You dimpled at one another. “We don’t have to stay. We’re caffeinated, and I might start levitating, here. We could walk a bit?”

Your stomach lurched. “We could. Where?”

“Dunno. I’m sorry–I have no idea how to be out. We should just sit here for the requisite number of minutes before upsetting the structure of a date.” He smiled at you pleasantly, but it was clear how incredibly nervous he still was… and how unlikely it was to go away unless he could be more active. Which meant standing. Walking, some. Something which you were not prepared to do.

Bucky watched your expression shift. He sat forward and reached out to touch your forearm. “You okay?”

“So. Yes, um. Yes, I’m okay,” you sighed. “It’s still new for me so I’m figuring it out, but… walking long distances? Can’t do it. I could probably handle a short walk, but I’ve had a rough time the last week, so I don’t know how much stamina I have. Even with my trusted friend, here. So.” You showed the head of your cane above the table bashfully, and looked away. “Sorry–people get weird about this stuff, I’m finding out, so I don’t really say anything in advance.”

Bucky blinked for a moment, then he leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “What do you mean weird?” His blue eyes narrowed.

“Suddenly unmatch. Tell me ‘it’s such a shame.’” You huffed. “Although it’s guys, on the whole. Women care less. But that’s beside the point–”

“Because of that?” He pointed at the seat beside you, where all of your belongings were stashed, and you knew what he meant. You nodded.

“I don’t say it in so many words. I’m not like–hey, just fyi, I use a cane, so deal with it or fuck off–”

“Why not? That would be a good way to separate out the weak and worthless,” Bucky said, but you could’ve sworn you heard a little touch of anger in his tone. He shook his head. “Doll… shit. Men are shit.”

“Yeah. They are. Sorry.”

“No, I’m shit, too. You can’t insult me when it’s true.” Bucky sat back against the worn cushion. “So, we going? Or are you going to talk me into an espresso to see if I can fly?”

“Sure. If you want to. I’m just slow–”

“Nonsense.” Bucky scooted out of the booth. “I grew up in this neighborhood. There’s plenty to do. And see.” He paused. “If this is insulting, just tell me to fuck off… You can lean on me.” He held out his elbow like an offering.

You could have cried. “Um. Okay.”

“Yeah? I–I would’ve offered, regardless. I like talking to you. I’ve enjoyed myself… through the phone.” Bucky scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “So. Even if you didn’t share, I probably would’ve tried to find a reason.”

“Really, I’ve just given you an excuse,” you said, tamping down a smile. He nodded solemnly.

“It’s thoughtful of you to spare me.” Bucky raised his eyebrows, waiting. The waiter breezed by, just then–

“You can pay at the front register!” the beleaguered hipster sighed, gesturing to the counter at which there was an extensive line. Bucky grabbed his elbow and fished a bill out of his pocket, slapping it in the guy’s palm. The waiter stared down at the twenty in his hand. “Great. I’m a human cash register.”

“Keep the change,” Bucky said. He turned back to you. “Do you get motion sick?”

“No?” You were clearly holding up whatever grand plans he was making in his head, so you hastily grabbed your things. Bucky liberated your coat from your hands and held it open. You stood slowly, leaning on the aid which had given you newfound freedom. Bucky smiled at you softly. He wasn’t impatient, just… excited. You slid your arms into your coat with Bucky’s help, and then curled your fingers into his elbow. His cheeks reddened. He had a boyishness to him which was endearing.

“This okay?”

Okay? Well. If you considered the wafting warmth of sandalwood cologne and the soft weave of his woolen peacoat okay, then you were dandy. You nodded, feeling your own cheeks flush under his attentive gaze.

“Great. I have an idea, if you’re game. So.” He cleared his throat, ushering you through the front door of the shop onto the sidewalk. “Where do you stand on surprises?”

“Um. Hate ‘em, to be honest.”

“How bad?”

“Flash mob? My idea of hell.”

“K–In that case, I’m gonna call a friend, he runs a ride service. There’s a festival in bridge park–I keep seeing fliers for it all over. We could check it out.”

You couldn’t help the smile which pulled at your cheeks. If that’s the sort of surprise Bucky had in mind, you would’ve been charmed by it. But knowing how quickly his brain was working to improvise a date was impressive, so you squeezed his elbow.

“Sounds fun.”

“Good. Okay.” His mouth turned up at the corner and his eyes crinkled.

He quickly dialed a number he had memorized, but not saved in his contacts. It made you wonder how many other people he knew by heart, and what it took to be remembered by this Brooklyn boy. He didn’t say much into the phone, just the intersection you stood on. Bucky hung up abruptly and pocketed his phone again, clearly intent on hiding it away.

“He’s two streets over, it’ll be five minutes max.”

He was a horse-and-buggy driver, who had festooned his buggy with bales of hay and pumpkins bearing hastily Sharpie’d faces drawn on them by someone under the age of ten. When the carriage pulled up outside of the chain coffee shop, Bucky grinned, passing the coachman a tenner and ushering you into the four-wheeled hayride. The straw was strewn over the plush seating poorly enough to poke you in the ass, even through your coat, but Bucky was so excited to pull the plaid wool blanket over your legs that you tolerated the gluteal acupuncture. He stashed your cane beside himself, and pressed you close enough that your thigh pressed against his.

“I went to school with Pat,” he explained, gesturing to the driver who was too far away to engage in conversation, but kept throwing back knowing glances at you and Bucky. “Kindergarten through the twelfth grade.”

“You really are in your neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” He blushed. “Never did get out, like I thought I would. Not complaining though. There’s a lot to love about Brooklyn.”

Bucky encouraged you to wrap your arm through the loop of his elbow again, and pointed out things to you about Brooklyn which had defied your notice prior. Brickwork at the pinnacle of a building, dating back to the 1920’s. A man dressed like a bush who stood on the street corner, blocking the walk button so no pedestrian could disturb his meditation. The fire hydrant he broke the bolt off senior year, flooding the sewer drains and causing rats to rush down the gutters like a parade of hissing floats. Halloween decorations in windows. Scarecrows mounted to telephone poles like they guarded a field of yellow taxis with as much aplomb as a treasury of corn stalks.

All the while… he distracted you. Little touches on your wrist where your coat met your skin with his soft gloves left you curling your fingers around air, and still he persisted. You studied his profile when he was distracted. With stubble and expression lines, he had character. He wasn’t stoic like you had thought him. Every inkling which crossed his brain was projected on his forehead like a drive-in feature just for you. And he kept smiling at you.

You arrived at Brooklyn Bridge park having spent an eternity and no time at all in a horse-drawn carriage positively burdened with loose hay, but the tents and balloons and various sizes of gourds distracted you from anything but the Autumnal joy of it all. Stalls lined the park in a makeshift walkway, which smelled of pie spices and syrup, and crisping ham on a rotisserie, and campfire.

When he helped you down from the carriage, placing your cane at your dominant side, Bucky instantly seemed to have a plan. Time passed like you were observing through a looking glass. He ushered a cup of cider into your hands, and then adios’d the empty into the garbage once you finished it. You dominated the hammer game, winning a massive plush gorilla. Which you promptly gave away to the first screaming child you saw, to Bucky’s amusement. He fed you funnel cake while you picked out your choice for the fastest piglet in a race which consisted of five piglets running around a kiddie pool. You lost–everyone did, when the piglets abandoned course to lay in the tepid water and snort bubbles at one another–but you left a lingering dusting of powdered sugar behind at the corner of your mouth. Bucky wiped it away without a second thought.

And so the date continued, with you floating beside a man whose eyes sparkled with delight every time you found joy in something. It didn’t feel like you had only met that day. You reached for his hand to express delight. He curled his fingers over your shoulder to wish you luck in the ring toss. Bucky–Barnes was his last name, you learned–was some kind of familiar fixture. He even bought you a coffee, and then brutally beat a group of sixth-graders at bobbing-for-apples.

It wasn’t until the sun tucked itself behind the rooftops that you realized dusk approached. Without needing to ask, Bucky summoned a cab. You had leaned on him heavily the second half of the afternoon, and opted to sit every opportunity you got. Yet… Bucky’s excitement never diminished. It wasn’t until you sat on the top step of your stoop that you realized it.

That was the best date you had ever been on.

And you sure as hell didn’t want it to end. The stars were out in force–as clear a night as you had ever seen in the city of light pollution, and yet… Orion’s belt… the pan handle of a Dipper… stars shone for you.

Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets in acknowledgement of the drop in temperature, while he balanced one foot up a step from you. He studied you through honest eyes–that is, he looked at you like he saw who you were without pretense. Which felt very vulnerable.

“Repeat the question,” you breathed.

Bucky smiled. “You date much?”

You shook your head. “No. To be honest, I don’t usually feel like it’s worth it. Putting myself out there. I’m sorry–I know it sounds like I’m wallowing in self-pity, but, uh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Being turned down. Because I use a stupid piece of metal to walk.”

“You could spend a lot of time feeling sorry for yourself, doll. And–that’s not to say you don’t have the goddamn right to feel some type of way about it. It’s your body, it’s not how you pictured your life going. Of course you’re gonna be sore about it. You aren’t alone in that. I’m just sayin’... Anybody who’d lose out on a chance with you because of something as insignificant as a tube of aluminum ain’t the type of person you wanna waste your time with anyhow.”

“It’s weird. I don’t disagree with what you’re saying, but. I dunno. It’s hard to think people exist who aren’t gonna be weird about a freakin’ cane.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Fuck’em. Waste of your time.”

“What about you? Are you a time-waster?”

“Worse. I’m a Brooklyn boy. We can wait out a stubborn dame with the best of ‘em.” Bucky braced himself on the railing. “Can I take you out again?”

“You’re gonna sit on my porch until I agree to a second date?”

“I–when you say it like that, I sound like a creep,” he chuckled. “No, I just… if you had a good time, and I really hope you did, I would like to treat you to another date. I took a wild guess on the festival idea, but I can think of a million other things. More than just coffee.”

“I was holding a coffee mug in my profile photo,” you laughed. “That was enough.”

“There’s more out there.”

“I had a good time.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

You watched his face turn from excitement to pure glee. His body angled towards you intensely. All his energy was directed towards you. It made your skin tingle, and all good sense fled from your mind.

“Just come in, Bucky.”

“You gotta say it, or I ain’t budging. This is all up to you, doll.”

“Yes, okay?” You leaned against the doorway with an exasperated sigh. “I had a great time. You’re adorable, and exhausting, and I’ve never had more fun on a first date. Or any date, for that matter. Please–come inside. Kiss me a little. I think you’re probably good at it.”

“It’s been awhile,” he admitted quietly, though he pushed off the railing to do as you bid him.

“Good. I don’t like it so formal–”

“You’re so cute.”

“I’m not–”

“No, it isn’t up for debate.” Bucky tucked a finger under your chin so you’d look up at him, given that your attention had fallen to the laces of his boots in embarrassment. His irises flicked back and forth, mapping every refraction in your eyes. “I know cute when I see her. And there’s nobody else in this whole damned city but you, doll.”

He kissed you as if that were true… as if he had stepped out of the subway to a world devoid of anything but a billion scattered golden leaves tracing circles on the pavement, and a girl with a cane who hates surprises. As if–in that dystopian and autumnal universe, that were heaven to him. Like he’d been looking for you in every empty coffee shop. Like he knew you, and it was only a matter of walking into the right store. It was soft, the drag of his lips over yours. At first he just ghosted a millimeter from your mouth, but then he needed to know… so he gave in. He didn’t spoil it with tongue too soon. Bucky discovered you.

You’d been kissed, but never at the world’s end. The world you knew was siphoned away. In this one? Well, kisses stopped time. Made leaves hang in the air between gasping breaths. Kisses were where the light got in. Where sun broke through clouds… where a girl who didn’t much care for vulnerability let a man she barely knew steal every little sound from her throat, out on her front stoop where anybody could see them.

You got the door open by feel, and stayed on your feet by virtue of the man with roving hands who backed you into the building. It was for the best that your apartment was on the first floor, because your knees threatened to buckle when his tongue worried the seam of your lips. He tucked the crook of your cane into the curve of his elbow when you tore yourself away to fight the finicky lock at your threshold.

“I didn’t expect to have anyone over,” you said by way of an explanation for whatever mess might be found inside, but Bucky snorted.

“When are you gonna get it through your head?” He nipped at the tendon which helped form the curve from your shoulder to neck, making you shiver. “I don’t give a shit if all you got is a mattress on the floor. I like you.”

“I have a bit more furniture than that,” you giggled, “but I still appreciate you saying it.”

The moment you were inside the apartment, Bucky leaned back against the door and turned you, so you stood between his feet. He looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes. “Tell me.”

You turned your attention to the buttons on his coat as he saw right through you. “Bucky–”

“I think you like kissing me, but you’re skittish. If you’re freaked out…”

“I’m–shit.” You sighed. “I believe you. That you like me, I do. But I am so used to feeling like nobody is ever gonna want me back–”

“Impossible.” He cupped your cheeks. “Look at you.”

“Bucky,” you groaned.

“No, stop it. I know what you’re doing. Oldest trick in my book. You think that a good thing is a lie, that it ain’t gonna hang around. I’m a really, really, really bad liar. Alright? My ears turn red.” Bucky smiled triumphantly when you chuckled. “I watched you drink a pumpkin latte today like it was the best thing you’ve ever had in your whole damn life and it cost me three dollars. You’re charming. I’m addicted.”

He kissed your forehead and you melted into his chest in resignation. “I don’t do this,” you mumbled into his sweater.

“What? Let somebody say why they like you?”

You shook your head, and pressed your cheek against his chest. “I’m starving.”

“Oh–doll, dammit, I should’a fed you–”

“No. I mean, yes, we should order something,” you laughed, “but. Just. Why?” When you raised your hand, gesturing to your general being, Bucky’s expression transformed from concern to… something gentle.

He shrugged, but his shoulders fell heavily downward, and his fingers curled into the pockets of your coat so you wouldn’t pull away while he found the words.

“Because–I just knew. You were simply a notification in a stupid app and I still thought about your profile picture waiting in my ‘likes’ for days. And we talked like it was an everyday occurrence, feeling your world shift its axis. I didn’t talk to a single soul on that app but you, sweets, and I tried my damndest not to jump the gun on asking you to meet in person. Imagine my delight when you agreed. I was so terrified last night that I hardly slept, but I never thought once about feeling… self conscious, all day. It–I don’t feel that way with most girls. Safe, I guess. And I may not know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m not a guy who ever feels like I can trust a person and I’m pretty prepared to lay down naked in the street if you tell me that’s what you want–”

“Not necessary,” you said, smiling.

“Well, that’s a relief.” Bucky brushed his thumbs over your cheeks. “Doll–I’m so sorry that anybody ever made you feel like you got some kinda worth to live up to. It makes me so angry, but then I think–who’s that for? What’s the point in me being angry at somebody who isn’t gonna change their mind… especially when it means that I get a chance.”

“Says the handsome guy with perfect teeth.” You winked at him when he scowled.

“I’m tryin’ here–”

“You’re wonderful,” you whispered. You smoothed over his bottom lip with the pads of your thumbs. “I’m… thank you.”

Bucky leaned forward until his forehead pressed against yours. “I’ve overwhelmed you.”

“No, sir. I just need a second. To acclimate to the idea.”

“I can go–”

“Please. Please don’t.” You tugged him towards the living room, slowly walking backwards and giving him every opportunity to wrench out of your grasp and run. But he didn’t break eye contact, no. Bucky kept pace with you, toe-to-toe. “We’ll watch something.”

“Spooky movie?” he suggested.

“...I’m such a wimp,” you admitted, and he let out a quick breath.

“You can hide under my arm during the scary parts.”

“So just bury myself under you the whole movie, got it–”

“If that’s what you want, doll.” Bucky smirked as your knees bumped into the lip of the couch, causing you to sit abruptly against the cushions. You still had a fist wrapped in the placate of his coat, so he fell forward, catching himself on the arm rest and hovering over you. You watched intently as his tongue whetted his bottom lip absent-mindedly, and you had to bite back a groan.

“That’s what I want. Bucky.”

***

A long time later, when your body was so sensitive that you shivered beneath him, Bucky hopped up… pantsless, still wearing his sweater, but peachy ass exposed to the air so he could run to the bathroom and find a soft cloth. When he returned to you (with a towel around his waist, suddenly bashful), he bore a damp washcloth in his left hand, which… you sat up slowly on your elbows to watch the reticulated fingers on his left hand as he cleaned you with soft strokes over your thighs and bit his lip… asshole. You smiled at him softly when his eyes flicked up to yours.

“You gonna tell me about it, or wait for me to ask?” you murmured, sliding the cuff of his left sleeve up his bicep, exposing a charcoal and gold metallic limb to the dim light.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He lifted you beneath the knees, and behind your back. He had no choice but to shower with you (since you woefully lacked a bathtub), as cleaning you both was clearly his priority, so he sat you on the edge of the porcelain counter to help you fully undress. He did so with a type of reverence which felt undue… but you were reminded that he didn’t look at you through the same lens with which you viewed yourself. Especially when he trailed his fingers over your softness like he didn’t feel worthy of touching you.

But then, he stepped back from you, and he shucked his sweater.

He didn’t look you in the eye once he was fully exposed to you. He studied the tiles under your toes, and his hands didn’t seem to know whether to rest on his hips or try to hide his flesh from you, so he fidgeted. Which meant he didn’t see you reaching for his left hand, and when you did so (threading your fingers through his metal facsimiles), he looked like he might cry.

Bucky was an amputee. With a gleaming prosthetic extending from his clavicle to the tips of his left fingers, so intricate and complicated a design that it must be something experimental and custom-made, just for the likes of a soft-hearted Brooklyn boy.

“You’re beautiful.” You meant the raw words, even though they escaped your lips unbidden.

Bucky squeezed your hand. “I’m not.”

“You don’t have to agree for it to be true.”

He looked at you, then. An agreement passed between you, unvoiced. I’ll say about you what you can’t. I’ll hold for you what you won’t. I’ll touch you again, because I want you, all of you–the flesh and the metal and the weak and the kind. Especially the kind. Of course Bucky understood you. Your heart-wounds took different guises, but they pulled the same strings.

When he knelt at your knee, it was supplication. It was obvious when he bowed his head to kiss the skin above your heart. Your heart had known his forever, it seemed.

“A long time ago, I didn’t have a choice,” he said, so quietly you could only make out his words because you had coaxed him up to meet your lips again. “I almost died. I–god, I never thought I’d live or touch somebody again. And then you. I can’t explain this to people–” He rolled his shoulder like the limb was hurting him, and maybe it was– “without inviting them to look at my naked fuckin’ heart.”

“Is it heavy?” You ran your finger the length of the connector, where metal met his skin and cupped his pectoral. You meant the arm, but the way his head bobbed… you inclined your head so you could catch his lips before his spirit fell one iota further. It was a kiss of knowing. Understanding, without words.

“I can take it off,” he breathed against your lips.

“So do it.”

Bucky sat back on his heels. Then, he looked you square in the eye and detached the prosthetic arm. It wheezed as it lost power, the moment its circuits no longer drew power from his body’s natural electric whims. You held out your hands, and he set the thing across your open palms. It was lighter than you expected, but still hefty. You could only imagine how it pulled at his muscles, unnatural as it was. It was incredible, but then–so was the man with an empty prosthetic socket, who sat at your feet like he hadn’t hastily fucked you on your own couch at the end of your first date. Like sex was a small exchange when there was a soul resonance at hand. If you said it out loud? It would sound insane. Holding Bucky’s cheeks in your hands, though…

“I like sushi,” you said softly, “and any carbs, really. So. Jot that one down, for your date ideas. And I’m a fabulous co-pilot if you like road trips. I love Upstate. I excel at floating down a river on an innertube–”

Bucky pushed up between your knees so he could reach your lips and he kissed you senseless. “Doll–”

“Shhh, darling man,” you smiled against his mouth. “I am addicted.” Parroting his words back to him made Bucky beam. “Stay the night. Surprise me in the morning. I don’t care. You’re everything I didn’t think I deserved and–and I’ll keep you. To spite Me.”

Bucky laughed. “It will be a pleasure to help you get revenge on yourself.”

***

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