Tumgik
#they're doing a good job and i'm proud of them even if it's not how i'd handle things- cuz i am an adult who is used to talking about CSA
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The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.
This is the shrimp guy story:
From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:
>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.
He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."
And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.
Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.
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nerves-nebula · 2 months
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i love to see people who are like "you can talk about csa but not around minors that's gross!" like idk how to tell you this but. who do you think is getting csa'd. i'll give you a hint: the first letter in csa does not stand for "adult"
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slippery-minghus · 9 months
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oh... just had a sad thought. was skimming reddit for recipe ideas and came across a post with parents discussing tactics for helping their kids with very food aversion-restricted diets get enough nutrition and. i just thought to myself. i really wish i had had the luxury of refusing food i couldn't stand as a child. i still cringe at the thought of my mother's chicken soup. or pork chops. frozen mixed vegetables?? (if the veggies had even just been on the side, it would've been okay!! but mixed into every pasta dish i was allowed to eat? with an added guilt trip about the pasta and veggies being "friends" and that they'll miss each other if i don't eat them both, every time i complained??) (i didn't even dislike vegetables!! she just refused to ask how i wanted to eat them!!)
but i didn't have the luxury of refusing to eat the things i couldn't stand!! at best, i would have gone hungry. at worst, guilt tripped to hell and back, and left alone at the table till i could eat through the tears. and my intake was restricted by my parents' fatphobia enough, i couldn't afford to skip meals. sure i knew when my next meal would be (though snacking was not a Thing in our house) but when i'd be allowed to actually eat enough to feel full? (even though that always meant eating more than the people around me.... but if i'd been allowed to eat til i was full regularly that probably wouldn't have been the case) hell... i wasn't even allowed sweets most of the time. "only on weekends"
it makes me so sad and... aware of the hollowness inside me when i think about how little space there was for me in my own home and childhood.
and i was thinking similar thoughts this morning. about my asthma, and how cruel it was that in high school gym class i was forced to trigger it every single day to avoid both a failing grade and bullying from my teacher. i thought about what i would have said to the principal of the school if i had been in the shoes of one of my parents. how i would have put a stop to it. how much more i would have done beyond the angry letter my dad wrote the school to keep me from failing gym that was more about preserving my GPA than me.
but then i realized—if i had had a parent willing to stand up for me like that... why would they have waited until high school? why wouldn't that have been something done from the start, and kept consistent throughout my k-12 years? why, aside from that letter, was the only thing done for me about it the awful "not allowed to run" sign my mother pinned to my shirt the first day of kindergarten, and the rescue inhaler kept in the nurse's office? (an inhaler that by high school my parents wouldn't even bother signing the waiver for, so i was always afraid of getting in trouble for carrying it in my backpack)
if you ask my parents, i was always their first priority. my mother starts to cry every time she says as much.
but then why. why does all the evidence point to the contrary?
how do i reconcile being wanted and loved but not cared for?
#my parents were never there for me. they never stood up for me#and i've been thinking a lot why i hate it when people thank me for things i did for them#how i hate being openly appreciated and valued#because i was never the type to feel that 'any attention is good attention'#i learned early on that 'any attention is BAD attention'#because if i'm doing something and you notice i'm here and doing it pretty soon you're gonna start pointing out flaws#maybe even making up flaws that don't matter or are something everybody does or aren't even real#but because it's *me* and i've always been held to higher standards than everyone else....#even if you notice me because i'm doing a good job i am now in danger. the thing i'm doing right will always be met with what i'm NOT doing#and nobody's ever told me they're proud of me and meant it. without strings attached. without pity. without a 'but...' at the end.#because why would they?#if i'm doing something well enough to be noticed then i have still failed. because i have *been* noticed#i resent being taken for granted but... it's a lot safer than being thanked#to be appreciated is to be on the precipice of disappointment#because people set expectations for your behavior. and the moment you make even the most simple and human mistake they lose their minds#*coughs* i wonder how differently i'd feel about that if my parents had had my back even 10% more than they did#i can count on one hand and still have fingers left how many times my dad was genuinely proud of me#one time was because i had developed anorexia and the other time he was drunk#i think there's a third one but i can't even remember it#and my mom will always be 'proud' as long as i'm not dead in a ditch somewhere#what i do or don't do doesn't matter#she was happy as long as i was getting C's. fighting to pull a B+ into an A- wasn't relevant.#my disappointment in myself for having anythinh *below* an A- wasn't relevant.#(my therapist pointed out recently that the 3.8 GPA i graduated high school with was actually really high? like it was actually a good gpa?#which really confuses me because it's still ingrained in me that anything below a 4.0 was failure.#hell. even a 4.0 wasn't great bc AP credits could've bumped it higher)#(their reaction to me saying i was shocked i got into the college i did with my gpa really threw me.#they said with a 3.8 there's no way i way i'd have been rejected. bizzarre.)#personal
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stereden · 9 months
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You know what really hit me hard in the Barbie movie?
That scene at the beginning where Barbie goes around her normal day, at the president's office, at the court, at the nobel prize ceremony...
All the Barbies, when being complimented on their achievements, being told they're doing an awesome job, when they, themselves, talk about their work and what they've achieved...
None of them doubt it. None of them are awkwardly trying to go 'oh it was very hard, I had help, it wasn't that important..."
No. Instead, they own it. They are confident. They know their value, they are not afraid to say 'I am good at what I do. I wrote an excellent book. I am great at being President of Barbieland. I am strong. I am a doctor and very good at my job. I am a lawyer and me showing feelings and empathy does not diminish my work in any way."
That scene actually hit me even harder than Gloria's speech. Because how often have I been hesitant to say I have done a good job, how often have I done my best to tone down my achievements because I didn't want to be seen as bragging, because I myself wasn't even sure it was that good, because I never think it's good enough?
Too often.
I'm going to try and work on that. Because I am badass, and I write good stories, and I deserve to be proud of them.
Because I AM good enough.
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah
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“That one was weak; do another three.”
“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”
“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”
We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!
Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!
Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 
But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”
“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”
Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 
Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.
But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.
He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.
Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 
Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.
And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 
Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”
Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”
That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”
You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”
“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”
Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.
“…Five minutes.” 
“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.
Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 
No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  
Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!
In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??
Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—
“Y/n?”
You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!
Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!
“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“
“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”
You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”
The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”
“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.
“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”
No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.
“How was it today?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“The workout. How was it?”
“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 
“And why is that?”
Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”
He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 
His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—
“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 
“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“
“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”
“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!
Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”
Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“
“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”
Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 
The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.
“How come?”
For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“
“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 
Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“
“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 
“Right…”
“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”
“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.
His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 
The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“
“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 
“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”
Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 
“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”
“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”
And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.
The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.
The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.
Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.
“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 
The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”
And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.
Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.
You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 
“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”
His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.
“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”
KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!
Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—
Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  
“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 
“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”
“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…
Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.
“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 
“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"
With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 
“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 
Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.
“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 
“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”
“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.
“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”
Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.
A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 
“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”
By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.
But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.
Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 
“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 
Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 
But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.
“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 
“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”
“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 
“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”
Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”
He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 
“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 
That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 
The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 
Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 
The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.
“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 
Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”
Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 
“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 
With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.
RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 
The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 
“Hey, is that you, Ino?”
“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”
“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”
“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”
Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”
“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”
“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“
“Ahaahhnn!!”
A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”
Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?
How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.
“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”
Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.
“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”
“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”
“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 
And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”
He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”
That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”
He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”
Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…
…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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chqnified · 1 year
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What am i going to do to celebrate getting the job offer?
Drink and buy more skz albums.
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i23kazu · 4 months
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♡ THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU'RE HIS LOVER?!
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characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe wriothesley x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. part 1 !!!! when someone else claims to be their partner / work wife. office!au. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
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xiao
you're pretty taken aback by the gall of this .... intern? whoever even was she? to claim that she was your husband's wife.
yep, that's how irrelevant she is
xiao was disgusted, to say the least. horrified.
"get your hands off me." he looks her in the eye, the sudden fierceness emitting a gasp from her.
"i love it when you're strict," she purrs, tracing her fingers up his neck. you smack them away.
"perhaps you'll love it if the ceo was stricter with you," you smile sweetly. "i don't think he takes too kindly to homewreckers."
zhongli
not again. not this ... piece of dirt? no, that might be an insult to his old friend guizhong.
she's a catty lady. beady eyes that went straight for his soul – her piercing stare seemed to always follow him.
he didn't like it one bit. his grip around your waist felt tighter, desperate even – a cold "let's go, dear," escaping his lips.
"so protective, suddenly?" you tease.
"i don't take kindly to those who try to insult my love, dearest."
diluc
oh, he goes red with rage. but he looks on at you proudly, because he knows you got it.
who even was she to claim that she loved him? a silly flowergirl who couldn't do her job right, because she was oogling him the whole time. she worshipped the ground he stepped on.
"who are you looking at?" you tap her on the shoulder, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.
"that man... he's mine." she gazes into his eyes, looking him up and down. you scratch your neck. she asks if you're alright.
"i'm afraid i'll have to correct you on that statement. that man is mine." you grin, turning your hand to show her your ring.
kaeya
okay, you totally get it. your husband is hot. but literally the AUDACITY the lack of SHAME the the the-
"please, we've been put together for almost all our cases. isn't that right, darling? it's almost as if they know we're good for each other." they purr.
darling?? DARLING?? you'll show them darling
"is that so?" you chuckle. "perhaps i ought to write in, then. i'm not too sure if my husband takes well to that. a violation of his personal life, if you will."
they go white at the sight of the ring.
"that's my love." kaeya chuckles, watching then stomp away.
childe
he's wildly uncomfortable. "your complexion is deeply concerning, tartaglia," the doctor chuckles.
"i wonder why." he returns it dryly.
he's too nice to avoid them – those longing stares, the notes slipped through stacks of his paperwork – he cant crumple them up and throw them away. he pretends that they're from you instead.
when that witch comes around to his desk, purring and grimy witch hands all over his papers; pretending to annoy him – 
he can't take it. it's disgusting.
"i'd appreciate it if you left me alone," he stares at her. "my partner and i would appreciate it very much."
wriothesley
oh, he's firm. he's firm, and he's strict about it. word gets around quickly in the meropide, and he sits back with his cup of tea and sighs at the thought of a work lover.
he doesn't stand for it, though. he hates the thought of that.
"get your hands away from me, please," he replies coldly, when they run up to hug him, first thing in the morning.
sigiewinne looks on with a proud smile. i raised that boy.
the girl turns away from him with disgust – from seemingly perfect to nothing but sludge beneath her feet. she slinks away, and wriothesley is satisfied.
he can't wait to tell you the news over a cup of your favourite tea.
perhaps some alone time with each other will do the both of you good.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
I don’t really have a request I just love anything you write💗 maybe something with girly!reader?
thanks lovely💗
Spencer wrings his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other unhappily. He hasn't felt this nervous since he was young —his PhDs have acted as a shield for years now. Even if he doesn't know what to do, he physically cannot be stupid. 
He feels pretty stupid. Less when you look up, smile blinding and sticky with gloss. He's thought about how it would feel to kiss you before and he tries desperately to push the thought away now, his hands shaking where they're hidden. 
"Hey, Spencer Reid," you say, lightly teasing as you wave him toward you. "How are you?" 
"I'm good." 
"Yeah?" You gesture at the empty seat in front of you. "Are you having lunch?" 
The bureau cafeteria is less of a cafeteria in the kitchen sense and more of a staff room, though hot food is served at the very back. There are couches toward the patio of an outdoor area to the left. You sit at one of the tables near the doors. The air is cold around his ankles as he sits with you. 
"No, I– I came down for coffee, but the jug is empty." It's a bad lie. Luckily you have no idea that there's a kitchen in the BAU offices. "You're not?" 
You turn your laptop screen to him. "I ate my lunch at my desk. I'm just catching up with my show." Your laptop has stickers around the screen, silver shiny stars and tiny pink hearts that look like they're made of jelly. There's a closed bottle of nail polish resting near the keyboard. "And I'm gonna touch up my nails, too. They're always chipping." 
"They look perfect to me," Spencer says. 
You beam at him, beatific, so, so pretty, he could die. He might. "Thanks, honey. You'd look cute with painted nails, have you ever thought about it?" 
Spencer honestly forgets about his nails. He should take better care of them. He thinks about hiding them under the desk. "I don't think I could do it." 
"No one's good at it, at first. I'd paint them for you, if you wanted. I have a couple of things in my bag." 
Spencer's relieved to present freshly trimmed nails to you for painting. Your polish is a light blue colour, milky, and he assumes it'll be the one you use on him, but you decide to ruin his life, taking his hand into one of yours. You hold his fingers in a way that presents the nail as you brush cuticle oil around the edges of his nails with a small pen brush. You chatter as you do in your way, all sweet and gentle in mirror of your touch. 
He's proud of himself for keeping his cool. To have you touching him for so long, so kindly, to have your attention, it has him squirming with a mixture of pleasure and horror. He wants to be seen by you but he doesn't know if he likes what you're looking at. 
"You have really lovely hands," you say, using the tip of one of your nails to scrape stray wet polish off of his skin, "do you play piano?" 
"You can tell?" he asks. 
"Pianist's fingers," you say. "That's a thing, isn't it?" 
"I haven't played much since I was younger. I got distracted by other stuff." 
"Maths," you surmise. "And criminology?" 
Everything. He pushed away a want for human connection with books and education until it got too much. Even the wisest of honeybees will brave heavy rain for a beautiful flower, and that's sort of how he feels about you. He knows it's stupid, knows it's doomed, but he couldn't not try to speak to you. You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, all your lip colours and shimmery eyeshadows, the chirpy way you talk, the earnestness of your please and thank yous. 
Your hands. The silver ring on your index finger dotted with tiny pink stones. Your bracelets. The smell of your perfume and your soft sweaters. 
"Done," you announce, an uncharacteristic hesitance to your tone. "Are they okay?" 
You've done a perfect job. "They're so neat. Thank you. I– I love it." 
Your eyes linger on his hands. "I love when guys wear nail polish. You're even handsomer now, it's crazy. I didn't know it was possible." 
Spencer should have more style for sure, but he asks you to dinner right then and there. 
You smile until the lashes kiss in the corners of your eyes and say yes. This new place opened just around the corner from your apartment, and you've been trying to drum up the courage to ask him all week. When Spencer hears that he almost passes out. 
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razzle-n-dazzle · 3 months
Note
Almost made Adam Headcanon Yandere? You need to do it!!
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ᯓ★ "Cus You're Mine, All Mine." (no shit I love you!) Yandere! Adam / Reader ignore my trying a little bit of a diff format
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ᯓ Yandere! Adam and regular Adam honestly have a lot of parrels, at least in my mind they do, but they also have some key differences. They're both quiet obsessive and possessive in their own rights, and they both try and hide it. Yet, while regular Adam will be the type to completely deny his habits, Yandere! Adam will be quiet proud of them. "It made you stay, no?" He would ask with a cheeky, wide spread smirk on his mask. He stood behind you, your reflects seen on the dead screen of the TV, as his hands rested on your shoulder before trailing down to wrap around your waist. You could feel the claws of his hands slowly trail down, almost like they were touching your bare skin when you knew better; They weren't, at least not in this second, and yet it still felt as intoxicating as when Adam's hands did trail on your bare skin. It was almost his way of claiming you as his, outside of fucking you, and his gentle yet firm touch always got you. Even as you swallowed down some silva that formed in your mouth out of some unquenched nerves in your stomach, you felt safe with Adam. Even if his grin, which now laid next to your face as Adam rested his chin on your vacant shoulder, was slightly unnerving as he admitted to a usually bad habit. "And if I can keep you away from everyone who would want to take you from me.." Adam's husk voice whispered in your ear, "Than I think I'm doing my fucking job right. Wouldn't you agree?"
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who just always happens to know where you'll be and is there waiting for you; Not like he stalks you, of course not (he doesn't have to do that anymore),he just always has a similar schedule! Not like it's creepy or anything, most of the time he just knows you are longing for his company (like he's longing for yours) or just wants to make sure you're safe! Which is a no brainer why Adam was currently sitting at a nearby table, watching as you and Azrael, the Angel of Death, got some smoothies at a nearby shop. Neither of you had noticed him yet, he had made sure of that. He didn't want Azrael, and his god forbidden good senses, to pick up on him as he followed you both from the court room; And he didn't want Azrael to pick up on him now. It wasn't like Adam didn't trust Azrael, he was an angel and you could be in much bigger danger (like hanging out with a demon in hell!). Yet, out of all the Angels, Adam always had an yucky feeling about Azrael; He was always rather quiet and solemn, keeping to himself, yet seemed just peachy chatting with you and hanging out with you and no one else. Public or not it just rubbed Adam the wrong way. He better not be trying anything. Everyone should see you in the light Adam does, but no one had the pleasure of taking you home other than him. And that was a fact, whether Azrael wanted to admit it or not.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who is somehow both egoistical and yet insecure, despite all the conflicts they provide. You can tell, after being around Adam for so long, when he gets jealous of other people you hang around. He'll never out right tell you, unless someone crosses a big line, but you can always see the slight scowl or pout on his lips, even behind the mask, and you get the hint to get to his side soon. Now, it's important to clarify, you go to his side out of free will, he's not dragging you there unless someone is touching you in ways they shouldn't; And even then, Adam is only dragging you back behind him and square punching the sucker in the face for even thinking they had the privilege to touch you! Adam will shit talk the guy who tried to get close to you when you come over him, saying how he was much better for several reasons (one being that he was the original dick, and thus he would always be better than any man or women) but would oddly enough point out things you didn't notice. Such as, the way they dressed, the way they carried themselves, their tone of voice, who they kept going to, and he would go on and on until your vision of that person is tainted. And he would snicker to himself as you sit down next to him, allowing him to drag you on his lap, as he knew he successfully managed to warrant away another competitor for your love.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who knew, since day one, he wanted you and only you. It made Lute a little disturbed how quickly Adam had catch your figure in the crowd and instantly began to ask questions about you. Lute was sure you had gotten to Heaven in that week, she hadn't seen you around before, and yet that didn't seem to deter Adam. "So, I figured out who that hot Babe was from yesterday," Adam would tell Lute the next day as they sat upon the council, waiting for the next hearing. Curious, and a tad amused (as she didn't believe him), Lute would roll her eyes and amuse him. "Oh, really?" She would mumble, resting her elbow on the railing and her cheek against her fist. "Who is she then?" And Lute was certain she almost fell off of her seat in shock when Adam began to list your name, the mortal age you died and how, when you got to heaven, where you were living in heaven, possible family members, and some basic information about what you liked and didn't and your current favorite place in Heaven. She was sure Adam had gone insane, at least until he noticed and quickly gave her a cover story: He simply had met you in one of his favorite lunch places and you began talking and you two just clicked.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who will never, ever, hurt you or anyone you care about yet take out his frustrations on the sinners of hell. Too many times have Lute had to watch, and listen, as Adam completely shredded through Sinners like they were nothing yet flies under his shoe while ranting about the last person you hang out with that got just a little too close. Lute was sure that if this kept up, Adam would not only violate some of the agreement terms that were laid with Lucifer, yet he would obliterate the overpopulation problem by killing the sinners, basically, single-handily. She wouldn't admit it yet it terrifies her a little how deep rooted Adam's love for you is, that she subconsciously began to distance herself from you just to not get on his shit list.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who, after a long day of work, wants nothing more than to come home and lay in your arms all comfortable; And who is surprised, when walking through his apartment door with his guitar in hand, to see you sitting in wait at the kitchen island. "Adam, Honey, you're home!" You would chirp, shuffling off the bar stool and rushing over to his side; Letting out a soft bit of laughter as you noticed his slightly shocked look. Gently, you would take his guitar from him, asking in your ever sweet voice how his day was and if he managed to help keep Heaven safe. He wasn't sure why you had such an effect on his heart like this, on his whole body. Your single touch made Adam feel more alive than he did when he had been alive. Your sweet voice was like music in his ears and a drug he could never get enough of. And fuck your lips, Adam was sure he could kiss them for ever if you would let him. And so, when you reached up to take his mask off him, he would stop you. You were perplexed, a little shocked, as Adam raised his hands up to cup over your hands once they cupped his cheeks. Yet, upon seeing his face, the way it relaxed almost instantly upon your touch, all you could do was smile softly up at him. "Honey, come on, let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me everything that happened.." You would whisper softly to him, coaxing him to come and rest his body after a long day of work. And how could he say no to his darling? After this lovely, warming welcome, Adam felt like he should be the one praising and giving you such attention you bask on him.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who waits on foot and knee if you ever need him. Yandere! Adam who would do anything to keep you with him, and only for him. Yandere! Adam who has charmed most of your friends and family. Yandere! Adam who doesn't force you to do anything but might play with your thoughts a little to get his way. Yandere! Adam who loves you more than he ever loved Lilith and Eve and makes sure you know it. Yandere! Adam who thinks, and half believes, he doesn't deserve someone like you and is selfish for handing you all to himself. Yet, also in turn, Yandere! Adam who might just die or go insane if he cannot bask in your love and affection.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam.. oh boy do you have your hands full with having him as your lover.
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Home | Masterlist
ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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dotster001 · 7 months
Note
Request pls: Yuu's Harem
Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Idia, Malleus, Azul to gn!reader that helps them heal from overblot (unsure to add Vil cus he has Rook whom already does god's work everyday)
Reader just comes close to their space and sees if they're doing good. Then it evolves to asking about their day and about the world of TW to make convo. Then it turns to a friendship where Reader commends them for doing things beneficial and good for themselves in the day, then tells them "Good boy/good job!" at even the smallest things when they take care of themselves without Reader's help (beast tamer Yuu awakening)
Reader gives them a braided bracelet made by themself and they cherish it. But then one day the Vice/Other dorm leader notices the bracelet and goes "Ah, so you're officially part of the harem"
You can write either first or second paragraph I just wrote it all out for context of the second
Self Love and Braided Bracelets
A/N: I did a little bit of both 😁 I included Vil, because no offense to Rook, but someone who makes comments about someone's weight is not good for self love
3k followers masterlist
"So, I made this for you. You don't have to wear it, I just….I was making one and it kind of started to remind me of you," you handed Vil the gold and purple braided bracket you'd made the night before. He gently picked it up, seemingly unsure of how to feel about it.
"Also, I just want to say," you took a deep breath, "if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here to listen."
The look in your eyes was so heartfelt that Vil worried he'd tear up just from looking at it. 
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."
Not that you'd ever know how raw you'd made him feel. Perhaps he was still too weak from his incident. It didn't matter. He was as composed and calm as ever.
A braided bracelet didn't exactly fit his wardrobe. But the next morning, his hand hovered over it, hesitating about not wearing it. So he slipped it on. His gut was never wrong, and it was telling him to wear it. Besides, his sleeves would cover it.
….
Months later, and Vil was now sitting at your lunch table. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed it when you would take a spoonful of food and feed it to him when he didn't eat enough.
Malleus Draconia, of all people, walked over to your table with a tray, his entourage in tow.
"Hey Mal Mal! I'll get us some more chairs," you said with a smile, getting up and beginning your hunt for seats.
Idia looked up from his silent eating, and pointed to Malleus' wrist.
"So you're part of the harem now, huh?"
"The what?" Vil muttered before noticing the green and black braided bracelet on Malleus' wrist.
"It's not a harem," Riddle said with a pout.
"What else would you call it?" Idia snapped, fiddling with his own bracelet that Vil was noticing for the first time.
"The turnip's got a point for once. It is very harem like," Leona snickered.
"Doesn't harem imply a romantic aspect?" Azul asked, looking up from his meal. 
"The flowers we all got for love day have a certain implication," Leona smirked.
"And the "I love you, have a great day! You matter to me!" Texts every morning also have an implication," Jamil muttered, clearly flustered by the conversation.
Idia nodded, and said, "It could also just be a friendly harem. You know, a harem of self love. Harems can be platonic."
"Platonic, huh?" Riddle sounded a little sad.
"It sounds like it really depends on Y/N's feelings," Vil spoke up finally.
Before the others could respond, you came back dragging a chair with you.
"Sorry that took so long! Who knew it would be so hard to find a chair?" You laughed.
Malleus sat down, and you looked over at  Idia.
"Idia, I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really proud of you for eating lunch with us."
"Thank you," Idia practically purred, the tips of his hair turning a light pink.
Vil shook his head with a light laugh. He looked at his fellow "harem mates", and realized that whether this was platonic, romantic, or something else, he was willing to see wherever it led.
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churipu · 4 months
Note
hiiii !!!! it feels so rare to see a blog dedicated to just fluff so i love ur works sm 🫶🫶
could you write abt reader who doesn't know how to ride a bike and the jjk chars teach them? specifically geto x reader pretty pls <33 thank you :} !
JJK MEN + TEACHING YOU BIKE RIDING
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featuring. geto suguru, gojo satoru, itadori yuuji x reader
warnings. mentions of a little blood, scrapes, falling off a bike.
note. omg hii anon <33 thank you for giving love to my work, it means a lot to me. sorry this one took so long, i hope you like it, mwah mwah <33
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GETO SUGURU. the first time you wanted to learn how to ride a bike was when geto took you bike riding during the weekends, and you were seated at the back while he was the one maneuvering the bike.
"suguru, teach me how to ride a bike."
and that was all it took for him to actually go 'teacher' mode on you, waking you up at eight in the morning to actually coach you from the basics to the most complex things on bike riding. geto is such a patient man, he coaxes you through your fears of falling — promising how he'd be there to catch you if you fall.
little progress is still progress in his eyes, he will ruffle your hair and call out praises to you. telling you that you did a great job and that he's pretty damn proud of your progress.
and believe it or not, he is a man of his words; every time he sees any signs of imbalance or the slightest bit of odd movements, he'd catch up to you by feet and stand by if you fall (which happens most of the time if he's already up there by your side).
for a couple of weeks, he was up early in the morning to teach you how to ride a bike. and hey, you could see the progress in those times, by the time you were able to steer the bike perfectly fine, geto was actually so proud he almost cried (he said he didn't, but he did, just a tiny bit).
"suguru, look!" just seeing the smile on your face as you pedal the bike made his stomach flutter, he is so happy.
after that, he'd always take you bike riding, same place, same time, this time with two bikes for each of you (although sometimes he prefers it if you sat behind him, hugging him tightly).
GOJO SATORU. i could see him being such a proud little shit when you told him that you couldn't ride a bike, it was embarrassing, but he told you he'd teach you how to. and well, he's not the best at teaching — or demonstrating how to ride a bike (despite him being a teacher and all).
since he could, and you couldn't. he ends up teaching you by actually riding the bike without explaining what to do, but hey— he's a dedicated man.
"so you just kind of...do this, and then that, and then yeah it just happens!" he grins and you looked at him in confusion, but said nothing anyways.
it made you reminisce the days back at school when the teacher would ask if you understood what they're saying, and you tell them yes just so you could move on and get it over with. yeah, that was what it looks like during the whole time gojo was teaching you.
it took you a good four months. four. months. because gojo, how do i even say this? during sessions, he would steal your bike and use it for himself— giving it back to you when he feels satisfied, and so it took longer for you to learn.
in fact, it felt like the male was rather a distraction rather than a teacher. but hey, at the end of the day he still succeeded in teaching you how to ride a bike.
"i'm never going to ask you to teach me again," you mutter out, braking in front of him.
gojo gasps out dramatically, "why not? i did it, didn't i?"
he's totally proud of you and he just has to let everyone know, posting pictures of you and he'd write a long caption telling the world about your journey of riding a bike. like a facebook mom.
ITADORI YUUJI. the first time he found out you couldn't ride a bike was when he asks you about bike-riding in the mountains, and you straight up told him you never learnt how to ride one. so, he made it his job to help you learn, and he's not really great at it.
"i don't understand what you mean by that, but yes, let's try it out anyways," yuuji was nervous the first time his grip left the bike's seat, and you were off.
he was trudging behind you, catching up to your slow pace — but still, when he realizes how imbalanced you are, it was too late. one second you were still pedaling the bike, and then the very next second you were kneeling on the ground with a bleeding and scraped knee.
at the very first second he saw you, he was quick to be by your side. he grabs you by your waist and picks you up, muttering out curses under his breath and then apologizing to you non-stop — he felt like it was his fault, he told you if he had been more cautious, you wouldn't be bleeding.
"shit, baby, i'm so sorry. i should've been more careful," he mutters out, wiping off the blood off your wound while blowing on it softly so the pain wouldn't sting as much.
"'s fine, yuuji. it doesn't hurt as much as i thought it would," you chuckle at him, but no matter how hard you try to convince him that it doesn't hurt and it was fine, yuuji still took the blame.
he tries asking you if you still wanted to learn the bike with him, and when you said yes, he's delighted. and more alert, not letting the same thing happen twice. he's such a cutie, he bought you a helmet, a pair of knee protectors, and elbow protectors.
better safe than sorry, even if he bought you those, he was the one catching you when you were about to fall.
for a couple of days, yuuji also tried looking up tutorials on how to ride a bike so that he could explain it to you well, and he was actually quite surprised when you got the hang of it in the first two weeks. proud is an understatement, he's overjoyed that he could take you bike-riding now.
of course he praises you about it, telling how fast of a learner you are and how proud he is. also, he still feels guilty about your fall— and he tries making it up to you by buying you food (which he didn't actually have to since you've forgotten about the fall anyways).
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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allysunny · 3 months
Note
hiii! first of all, congratulations for 200 followers! im so proud heheee! and second, i just read your nanami's fic (patching up wounds) AND IT'S SO GOOD 😭😭🤍🤍 WE LOVE FLUFFY FLUFF NANAMI
and third! i wanna make a request hehee
15+28 with a make up prompt with nanami 🤍
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"Is it someone else?" + "Do you trust me?" / "Always" + Make up x Nanami Kento
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Words: 4.3k words
Warnings: Angst, mentions of infidelity, arguments, some angst? Some suggestive themes, but nothing downright explicit, I would say? I'm so bad at tagging omg if I missed anything!
A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another one of the entries for my 200 Follower Event!!! I missed writing for my man Nanami sm, I love this man so bad... <3<3<3
Anyway, I would ALSO like to say that my Event is now CLOSED!!!! I'll of course finish the requests I have in my inbox, but regarding this event in particular, I won't be taking any more! I feel like if they keep on coming, I'm going to panic and not be able to finish any of them.
Thank you for everyone that participated and sent in their great ideas; they're all genius and I am having a blast writing them. Thank you so much!
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this little piece!!!
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You'd long stopped waiting for Nanami to come home
Asking him to please come at a more decent hour, and letting you know whether he was going to make it to dinner or not proved to be useless, as he often did not check his phone, and even when he did, he'd give you one-worded replies that did nothing to soothe your nerves. You loved your husband; knew him inside out and loved everything about it. But sometimes, these little quirks managed to annoy you.
Were you being selfish? All you wanted was for your husband to come home to you, have some dinner, ask how your day was, maybe make love to you once or twice. But as days turned into weeks, it seemed like none of those were a possibility.
Dinnertime together became "Sorry. Won't be able to make it in time. Don't wait for me." texts, casual conversations about your jobs became "I had an exhausting day. Can we not talk about it?", asking your husband for a bit of affection became "I'm really tired. Some other day." It was starting to become unbearable.
You knew Nanami to be a hard worker. He was a very thorough man, efficient and determined, and he always gave 101% of himself in whatever he did. But lately, it seemed that he was lacking in terms of your own life. It hurt to eat by yourself, it hurt to read or watch TV on an empty couch, it hurt to go to sleep in cold sheets.
You'd tried to talk to him once, ask what was happening. Not only did he brush it off as him simply being busy, but he also failed to provide you with information as what to what kept him busy. He was never a man of many words. You knew this. But it was one thing for him to be quiet and reserved. It was another to simply refuse to tell you certain information about what he did for a living.
All he'd told you was that he worked at a high school, as a teacher. Taught something about finance. On one hand it made sense. All the books and certificates inside his study were clearly not for show, and he'd always been extremely intelligent. But on the other hand, it was weird. Nanami never expressed much interest in teaching. Hell, you didn't even know he had the qualifications for teaching. But apparently, he did, and that's what he wanted to do from now on.
He'd told you it was a high paying job. He wouldn't be as miserable as he was as a salaryman, and you two would be able to take that lovely vacation in Malaysia, the one you'd been envisioning for years now. But how did a high-school teacher earn so much? And why did he have to spend so much time at his school?
The sound of the door broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked behind you from your place in the couch. Your husband walked home, hair slightly dishevelled and jacket hung on his arm.
"I'm home," he said softly, before taking off his shoes and hanging his coat.
"Hey," Your feet instantly carried you from the couch to him, as if second nature. Your feet would carry you anywhere Nanami Kento was, that is how deep your love for him run. Because where was home, if not by his side?
"I stopped by the bakery on my way home," he mumbled, placing a white paper bag on top of the couch. "Brought you those croissants you like."
There he was, your sweet husband, remembering you even when you worried and worried. Here you were, chewing the inside of your cheek out of sheer preoccupation, and he was out there buying you croissants. You felt a little bit guilty.
"Thank you," you smiled, returning to his side, and continuing to speak, "How was work?" It was when he flexed visibly in front of you when you moved to undo the knot of his tie that you had realised, you'd asked the wrong question.
"Tiring. I don't want to talk about it," he answered, moving past you towards the kitchen.
The guilt you'd briefly felt earlier washed away, if only a little bit.
Dinner was uneventful, as usual. It was nice having his company, but it was almost as if it didn't even make any difference. He was quiet, more so than usual. You tried getting a few conversations going, talking about your day, gossiping about your coworkers, but only received one-syllabic words, or soft hums of acknowledgement. You tried to get him to talk about his work, but he wouldn't budge. You asked about his students, and he shut you down. It seemed as if there was a barrier coming up between you and your husband, and you didn't like it one bit.
He offered to do the dishes for you while you decided to go take a quick shower, and when you came back, you found him sitting on top of your bed, quietly reading a book.
"Aren't you heading to bed?" you asked.
"I came home late enough the other days. I'd like to enjoy a book for a while before I go to sleep. Is that so wrong?" There was a slight harshness to his voice that you didn't like, and you became defensive.
"I'm sorry – it's just, you've been so tired every other day, I thought you'd maybe like to get some actual sleep."
Nanami must've realised the tone he'd taken with you and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"I appreciate your concern, honey, I really do. But I'd like to relax for a bit. I promise to get enough sleep."
You nodded and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV in front of you to zap through a few channels. When you couldn't find anything that amused you, you picked up your phone and scrolled through social media, internally sighing at the photos of your friends and their respective partners on their own private vacations. It reminded you of Malaysia, and it made you frown just a bit. You had half a mind to ask your husband, but there was no way you wanted him to think you were annoying, so just kept quiet.
After a while, he put down his book and walked towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. You would've done the same, but he closed the door behind you, causing you to wait for him. When you were able to brush your teeth and go through your whole skin care routine, you returned to bed.
Nanami was already lying down, facing away from you.
It hurt. A lot. You used to sleep pressed close against each other. He would hug you close to him, and you'd fall asleep to the beating of his heart. It nearly made you cry, until you realised you were made of tougher things, and would do your best not to let it get to you.
You laid down, pulled the covers over your body, and looked at your husband's back, admiring the broad planes of his shoulders and the pale skin you so adored to touch and kiss. It had been a while since you'd done both.
You don't know what made you do this. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe you just missed your husband too much and seeing him like this before you awakened memories in you that had your cheeks heat up and your thighs clench instinctively. But something made you press against Nanami's back and snake your arms around his chest.
He all but whispered your name, and you couldn't tell if in exasperation, or desire.
"I miss you so much," you mumbled, pulling your body up to sit beside him, and leaning down to press kisses against his neck and jaw. You felt him tense, and something inside you churned. Why was he tensing before you? Before your touch? He was your husband. Were you so unfamiliar that he would flinch away from you?
"I'm tired," he sighed, rolling so his body would stay even more out of reach.
"We don't have to do much;" you mumbled, scooting closer to him. Your hands carded through his hair. "I just miss you. Miss your touch, miss your body," each word was punctuated with a kiss on his jaw, and you heard Nanami sight. "Please, Kento. Don't you miss me?"
Why you kept going, you had no idea. He had arrived home extremely tired and had not given you any signal that he wanted this. In fact, the only thing he'd demonstrated was wanting distance, peace, and quiet.
But still, you kept going, kissing his soft skin, and playing with his golden hair.
"I have to get up early in the morning," he said, but you could tell his voice was breathy, husky. You gloated internally, happy over the fact you still had this effect over him.
"We can be quick. Can't we?" He could. You could. Nanami liked to take his time with you – and lord knew how much you liked it when he did. But you also knew he was efficient. You'd been pressed against several walls inside bathrooms or broom closets, mouth against the column of his neck to stifle your broken moans to know it. "Please? You know I'll make you feel good."
Nanami remained quiet for a few seconds, and for a while you thought he might say yes. Then, he promptly moved away from you, his voice cold as ice.
"I'm tired. I need to get up early tomorrow, I don't have the time for this."
"But Kento – "
"Can't you listen to a word I say? You've been going against my wishes all night." This time, he turned to face you, a hint of cruelty in his eyes, something that made you tear up immediately. "All I want is to get some rest. I can't do that with you all over me."
You said nothing, staring at the man before you. Is this how he felt? That you were all over him? That you'd been going against all his wishes? It's not your fault you wanted to talk to your husband, to be worthy of some of his time.
"I just wanted to spend some time with you," you replied, brows furrowing in confusion. "What's so wrong with that?"
"I've told you before, I'm tired. I got home late today; all I want to do is just get some sleep – "
"You're always getting home late now!" You raised your voice, sitting up completely and crossing your arms over your chest. "And you're always tired. What am I supposed to do?"
"Not disturb me, when I'm working so hard for us."
"At a high school? I love you, Kento, and I love how dedicated you are to your work, but what's a high school got that makes you get home at nearly 11PM?"
"It's complicated," he muttered, looking away.
"Is it now?"
"Yes! It is! And I wish you would just let it go and let me sleep. God knows I need it."
That's when you ask the question that's been plaguing your mind for a while, the one you'd never been brave enough to ask, the one you never wanted to ask, afraid of what the answer could be.
"Is it someone else?"
You could've asked anything, and yet Nanami would've never guessed what you'd just said. Why would you ever think such a thing? Did he ever give you reasons to think he loved anyone else other than you?
It seemed almost silly to ask, because as soon as he thought the question over in his head, he realised just how much he'd been neglecting you.
"It's not," he reassured you, sitting up and turning to face you, now sitting up as well. He hadn't realised you had started to cry, only noticing it when he saw small tears running down your lovely face. He'd made you cry. He had been an asshole and now you were crying because of him. Just great.
"I'm just working hard. For you. For us."
"Don't give me any of that bullshit. No high school teacher has to stay inside the school until close to 11PM. You can't even make it do dinner most nights. Just what the hell are you doing in there? Is it someone else, Kento? Fuck – just tell me if it is because I can't take this any longer! If you’re just staying with me because you can’t be bothered to get a divorce, then I don't want it!" You said, crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn't control the tears that had escaped, and once they started to fall, you feared they wouldn't stop.
"It's not someone else!" He said, running a hand through his blonde locks. "Look, darling, I only love you – "
"Then tell me why the hell you stay in there until so late."
Nanami was stunned into silence.
You'd never really asked about his job. He had told you he was a teacher and made up some believable enough financial-like class. You'd believed it, and he thought it would be the end of it. But Nanami should've known better. You were curious, and worried about him a lot. It was very endearing, and he loved you even more for it, but sometimes – like now – it could be a tad impractical.
"I'm working," he whispered.
"Bullshit. Again, with that stupid excuse – I don't believe you, Kento." It was the first time in 6 years together that you had ever doubted your husband. And it tasted foul. Doubt tasted foul, taster bitter in your mouth, and you hated how quickly its taste spread over everything you said. "Just tell me the truth already!"
"I'm telling you the truth, I'm a teacher, and I'm working!"
"I know high school teachers, Kento!" you yelled, "And they might bring some work home, but they're usually there in time for dinner. Hell, every teacher I've spoken to gets home much earlier than you, and everyone has said that your working hours are unusual. And there's of course, the matter of the bruises."
Some big, some small, but it has become more and more usual for your husband to arrive home injured. At first it was nothing. A paper cut. An accident while cutting bread. He slipped. He tripped. He fell. The excuses started getting weirder and weirder, and you’d become suspicious as hell.
"They're just accidents honey, I told you – " Nanami's words do little to soothe you, instead enraging you even further.
"No, they're not! You've never been clumsy Kento. You've never tripped, never fallen, never had accidents with knives! Just tell me what's going on? Have you gotten yourself into something dangerous, Ken? What is it?"
Nanami looked at you, at your eyes wide with worry and heartbreak, at your pouting lips and cheeks wet from the small pearly tears. And as much as the sight broke him inside, this wasn't the time nor the place to try and talk sense into you. He couldn't tell you about what he did, couldn't introduce you to the world of Sorcery and Curses. He'd only endanger you, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Nanami sighed.
"I think you should need some sleep. We should both get some sleep and continue this conversation in the morning."
That was the last straw. How dare he dismiss this conversation, as if it weren't something important and worthy of your attention? As if your whole relationship, your trust, your life wasn't on the line?
It was too much.
"Out." You uttered, pointing at the door.
"What?"
"Out." You repeated. "How am I supposed to share a bed, let alone a life with a man I don't trust, with a man who insists on lying to my face like this? I can't sleep on the same bed as you."
"Honey, you can't be serious – " Nanami pleaded, but you were intent on interrupting him.
"Out! I won't share a bed with you until I trust the man sleeping beside me!"
With this, Nanami nodded silently. He got up and promptly left the room, leaving his pillow where it was on the bed next to you. He knew you – you might be upset, but you still loved him, and you couldn't fall asleep with some sort of presence from him next to you. He'd found you once or twice hugging his pillow as you slept, and it made him smile. Ever since, he’d sprayed it once or twice with his cologne or aftershave, to see which scents made you relax more. It was corny and lame as hell, yes. But it helped you a lot, and he was glad for it.
Once the door of your bedroom was closed, you simply let go.
Loud sobs erupted from you, and you hid below the blankets, hoping the small fortress of cloudy fluffiness would save you from all the anguish you were feeling, and wishing sleep would take you soon.
With Nanami's pillow hugged close to your body, you found that it did, and you were out in just a matter of minutes.
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The following morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes and orange juice.
Weird, you thought, who the hell is making pancakes?
You got up and ready, going through with your usual morning routine before putting on some clothes and walking downstairs. You’re not used to having company on your day off, let alone wake up to some delicious as hell smells.
When you walk into the kitchen, you spot your husband in front of the stove, a spatula in his hands, whistling some tune he seems to be hearing from the radio.
It was as if last night hadn’t happened at all, as if instead of refusing your touch and walking away, he’d turned to you and reciprocated everything.
Nanami turned to you, having heard the soft thud of your fuzzy slippers against the floor. He was wearing his “Kiss the Cook” apron, the one you’d jokingly gifted to him a few years ago and hadn’t seen him wear in a long time. If you weren’t so upset at him, it’d have made you smile.
“Good morning,” he said, placing a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice on your usual spot at the table.
“What’s all of this?” you asked, hesitant to sit down. Was he going to pretend it was all okay?
“An apology.”
You stopped in your tracks. An apology. Huh.
“I behaved terribly last night,” Nanami sighed and placed the rest of the pancakes on a separate plate, also putting it on top of the table. “I’m sorry.”
You nodded and sat down, taking a sip from the orange juice. It was great, and it took you every bone in your body not to jump on your husband and shower him with kisses. It’d been a good while ever since he prepared you breakfast like this.
Well, since he’d gone out of his way to do something nice and apologise, you wouldn’t play games. You and Nanami had long gone past that stage.
“Surely, you understand everything I said came from a place of worry,” you told him, grabbing your favourite jam (that Nanami had so attentively put in your reach) and smearing it all over a pancake. Your voice was calm. Not too sweet; firm, but still somewhat soft. “You’re barely home nowadays, Kento. And I miss you. You come home with scratches on your face and bruises on your arms. What am I supposed to think?”
Your husband sat before you and grabbed a glass of orange juice himself, before starting to speak.
“I understand. And I can guarantee that everything I have told you is the truth.”
You stopped your arm, fork up in the air.
“The truth? Please, Kento, I’m tired of that.”
“I’m serious.”
He shifted in his seat and sighed.
“Look – I didn’t lie to you when I told you about my new job.”
“Hm. But?” you asked, taking the forkful of pancake to your lips.
“But – “ he sighed again, “I wasn’t entirely honest either.”
“I see.”
“The truth is, I can’t tell you all about my job.”
You raised an eyebrow. Is this how he was planning to get on your good graces again?
“I’m a teacher, yes. But my job, it’s… It’s hard to explain. It’s dangerous. And I don’t want you tangled up in that world.”
Your stomach twisted in an unpleasant knot. Dangerous?
“Kento, did you get involved with the wrong people?” you whispered. Surely, that couldn’t be true. The sweet man before you would never dabble in those nasty, sketchy business you always saw out there, the kind that would have him trapped for life and made a slave to their every whim.
“No! No – Christ, no,” he was quick to reassure you, reaching out to hold your free hand. You decided not to move it, allowing the warmth of his palm to spread through yours. “It’s not like that. I did not get involved with any kind of bad people. I promise you that. But my job is dangerous, and I would be putting you in danger if I told you all about it. But I can’t stand keeping you in the dark like this – it hurts to see you suffer.”
Now you were getting scared. What the hell had your husband gotten himself into? A dangerous job? That would put you in danger? What was he talking about?
“Fuck, it’s,” he released your hand, and you immediately missed his touch. Nanami rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and shook his head. “It’s so complicated. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know if you’ll believe me. I just… I just need some time. Please. If you’ll have me, if you love me. I just need some time, and I’ll explain everything to you.”
“Is this what you want to do?” You asked
“Yes.”
“And you’re saying it’s dangerous.”
“It is.”
“Is that why you’re injured sometimes?”
“Yes. But I promise you – everything is okay. Everything is fine. I promise you darling – it’s okay.”
You looked at him, and he looked at you.
And there was something in his eyes that made you understand.
Not what he did, or how he did it or when.
But that he was having a tough time explaining it to you. You could see his internal dilemma clearly, and it made you ache a bit, because you saw just how conflicted he was. You loved reading. Books of all kinds. Long, short. Fun or emotional. But even after all these years of reading page after page after page, it wasn’t books you’d learned to read best.
It was your husband.
He reached out to hold your hand again. It was warm and it provided comfort. So much comfort – something you needed more than anything right now.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, speaking to you in that barely-a-whisper voice of his, the one he uses to murmur soft words against the skin of your shoulder, the one he used to say his vows to you on your wedding night, away from prying eyes, the one he’d used when he first told you he loved you.
You knew all of Nanami’s voices. Knew his monotone one, directed at coworkers and bosses; knew his warmer one, the one he used when thanking shop clerks, baristas, waiters, workers; knew his joyful one, the one you got to hear every once in a while, deep and rich and warm, accompanied by one or two chuckles if you were lucky; knew his husky one, saved especially for late-night lovemaking or mind-blowing quickies; knew his sugary sweet one, saved only for you.
And of all the voices you knew your husband to have, this was the one you trusted the most. It meant he was serious. It meant he wasn’t lying, it meant he was offering you the whole truth; he’d offer you the whole world with this voice, and you would take it.
“Always,” you found yourself replying, turning your palm, and giving his a soft squeeze.
Because it was true. You’d follow Nanami Kento to the ends of the earth. You trusted him, more than anything. And if he told you he had a hard time telling you, then you would believe him. If he told you everything was going to be fine, you would believe him. You trusted him to tell you what this dangerous job of his was and were ready to support him until the end.
You'd long stopped waiting for Nanami to come home.
But you’d start doing it. Again, and again, and again.
You would wait for him until he came home.
Whether he came home early or late, it didn’t matter. You would know he had been working. You’d know he hadn’t broken the promise he made to you the day you got married and would not lie with someone else. You’d patch up his wounds and kiss his injuries and shower him with love – so, so much love.
All that would matter, is that he would come home to you, and you wouldn’t worry.
Because you loved him, and he loved you.
And as long as you held on to that promise, you knew everything would be okay.
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A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed this little piece! I love Nanami so much, he'd be the most understanding husband, and a great communicator okay.
Once again, I ask for your patience, as uni is kicking my ass real bad, and it's taking me longer to write stuff. I fear it's only going to get worse, and I may have to take a break.
But I'll keep trying until then!
I hope you're all doing well, and have an amazing day!!! <3
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ms-cartoon · 4 months
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I've been coming across a bunch of Hazbin spoilers and decided "screw it" and found the leaks to the full episodes. (I don't care how sensitive you leak haters are about it)
Of course, as expected, this show is already turning out to be trashy as I would expect it to be. Little retcons here and there, shitty writing, some crappy and pathetic characters who already lost whatever mojo they had back in the pilot, voice-acting is bitter as it will always be, etc.
There are a lot of issues with just these two eps, but I'm just gonna point out the ones that got my attention the most.
WARNING: THERE ARE SPOILERS/ MENTIONS OF HARRASMENT AND ALL THE 18+ BS.
-- Charlie- "Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil."
I beg to differ since it's established already that angels from heaven are nothing but fakes and are evil as hell, probably proud of it. Exhibit A: Adam and Sera. Now if they were anything like Frollo (someone who believes they are doing good but are not) I might be okay with it. Like say, they only resort to extermination because they're from heaven, they feel it is their job, and they have to do it even though it's wrong. Instead, however, I assume they exterminate because they just like to do it and they're evil like that. They probably have a feeling that some sinners are still good people on the inside and just don't care.
-- Charlie: As the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this,
Heaven made a truly heartless decision that every year, they would send down an army an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them.
I hear with my little ear another retcon!!
In the pilot, the only reason why extermination was a thing was because of overpopulation in hell. Now they're saying heaven is exterminating sinners cuz they're threatened by the overgrowing power and they don't want to be rebelled by it?? I going to guess that they only made this change so they can force evil on heaven while making Lucifer the innocent one. This is exactly what they did with Stella in the HB series where it was brought up that things were okay between her and Stolas only for the second season to say Stella hated Stolas the whole time they were together and treated him badly just so the writers can tell us viewers that she's evil.
Is this gonna be a thing now?
-- Angel: I'll have the horniest sinners knockin these walls down to get in!
This body was made to be exploited!
Seriously, guys, this is the same pervert we're supposed to feel bad for BECAUSE he's being exploited!
And leave it to Angel to completely miss the point of this hotel. What they want is to convince sinners to REDEEM themselves. Banging them is not a way to go about it, bud!
-- My predictions about Angel being a sex joke are correct. I'm mean- they've always been correct, I'm just saying I had a feeling they were going to show it off more in the show.
-- Vaggie: "No, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to."
Angel Dust: "Well, I chose to stay here and I think it's all stupid."
No shit- The only reason why u agreed to stay is for the free rent. So don't go marking yourself as a good example.
-- I don't totally have a problem with this show being a musical as long as the timing is right. Charlie is so quick to tell Vaggie about a meeting she'll participate in and is excited about, but before Vaggie can even question it and talk to her, Charlie immediately starts singing without even hearing Vaggie out. They kinda rushed this musical number a little too quickly. Which only goes to show how fast-paced this episode is. It's always fast-pacing with these shows.
-- I have the sudden urge to jump inside this show and beat the ever-loving crap outta Angel if keeps on moaning and getting horny . . .
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-- Angel continuously flirts and touches an obviously uncomfortable Husk and fans are going to look at this as "cute" while I look in annoyance and disgust. And once again, this is the same guy we're supposed to feel bad for because he has a pimp who inflicts the same actions that he does and fans will choose to ignore it.
-- Adam is practically the most irritating character in this series so far. I was right with what I said about him before. For someone who's supposed to be an angel he sure as hell doesn't act like it. The whole time he's on screen, he's just making jokes, ridiculing the hell out of Charlie, and not listening to her at all. Continuously cussing and talking about dicks??? He has the most cringiest dialogue ever and I had the urge to skip it every time he's on screen. Something tells me he and Lute should switch positions since she seems more professional.
-- Charlie: Sinners make mistakes, but everyone makes mistakes.
Charlie, I know where you're trying to get at sweetheart, but I really hope you don't include all the rapists, murderers, abusers, and pedophiles down below. Do you really think they qualify as someone who can be redeemed? If so, I would have to side with the angels here despite their antagonistic behavior. I would understand trying to rehab drug addicts, alcoholics, robbers, etc. but definitely not the former.
Now that I think about it, Charlie is kind of acting like Viv in this scenario where she tries to excuse these criminalistic behaviors most of her characters committed when they really don't deserve anything good happening to them. That's like trying to redeem Valentino for pimping and abusing Angel Dust. Do we really think Val is capable of redemption??
Sorry to burst your bubble Ms. Morningstar, but the angels are in the right here. Hell exists for a reason and people who do bad things and like to do bad things deserve to be there. I wouldn't bother trying to rehab sinners who don't deserve it or are not going to try to fix their behavior.
-- Lute: Angels don't make mistakes . . .
Then what does that say about Lucifer? He was an angel who caused some actions that you guys would count as mistakes therefore expelling him from heaven. You guys never even attempted to exterminate him yet.
-- I'm sorry, I don't like Brandon Rogers as Killjoy. It's literally just a demon version of one of his characters. It's nothing original like the pilot.
So that is what I think about the first episode. If I forget to mention something, i'll just edit the post. Won't be too long before I make some comments about the second one, but for now, the gist of everything is . . . it's bleh.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask me!!
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lino-nyangi · 1 year
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in light of recent events, for you my loves @tasteleeknow @rachalixie @gimmeurtmi ♡
wc: <0.5k
warnings: none. maybe suggestive if you really squint. not proofread tho and it's like 4am
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catching a glimpse of your lover sat on the living room floor, you can't help but stop on your tracks to watch him. watch him play with the cats, cuddling them and giving them head scratches. you loved seeing him in his own world with them, he looked so peaceful.
minho soon picks up the gloves he had prepared by his side, slipping them on before beginning to prepare food for the cats. he's always put a lot of love and care in raising them, his love language seeming to also apply on his pets.
you find yourself marching closer, socks rubbing against the wood floor before dropping on your knees behind him. your arms instinctively wrap around his figure, in search of warmth. warmth that you always find in him whenever you seek it. he smells like home, more than home itself does. now all curled up against him, you hug minho close and peer over his shoulder at the bowl between his legs.
"was wondering when were you gonna stop being a spectator and join." he mutters, and it takes you by surprise. his cat instincts were really something else, or maybe he just had a radar for you.
"didn't wanna spoil your time with your kids." you answer with a smile, lips ghosting over his skin.
'they're your kids as well.' minho wants to say.
you kiss his neck, forming a little constellations of pecks as you move from his clavicle up to his jaw, doubling up on the spot where a tiny mole rests. he's ticklish and it makes him let out the cutest tiny giggles. but minho doesn't stop you, he never does.
"did you know?" you mumble against his neck, eyes fixated on his hands carefully preparing the food. "they say wherever you have moles is where a lover in your past life kissed you the most."
he chuckles, amused by the new discovery, "is that so?"
"mhm." you hum, not resisting the urge to plant another peck on his skin. it's warm, and soft, you want to kiss him all day.
he speaks after a few seconds, like he always does when he's preparing a witty comment. "then you're doing a good job at keeping it the same for my next life as well."
"i'm adding even more." you huff out a small but proud giggle, "you'll be all freckled up."
"i'll be yongbok in my next life?" he mumbles, almost to himself by how fascinated he is by the idea. "doesn't sound bad at all."
you stay like this for a little while. watching minho's busy hands makes you fail to notice the lopsided smile that has made its way to his lips, after thinking of fact you just told him. "i'll have a lot on my thighs then." he muses, the realization making your cheeks heat up.
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sunny44 · 6 months
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All these years (Part 4)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader
Warnings: none I guess.
Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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Wedding day.
I was sewing my dress that was inside those bags and my dad was looking at something in the car.
"We have a problem."
"Ugh, what is it, Dad?"
"You'll have to go with Charles."
"What do you mean?"
"Because something went wrong with the car, and it will take an hour to fix. You're the bridesmaid, so you have to go now."
"Can I go with his parents?"
"They're taking his grandparents. Please, darling, I know it's annoying but do it for Arthur."
"Okay."
"Thank you." He kissed my forehead. "I love you."
"I love you too."
I grabbed my things and went downstairs, seeing that he was already putting his things in the car.
"Give me that." I handed over my things, which he arranged there. "You can put the dress on top of my suit on the back seat."
"Okay." I opened the door and put it on top of his suit.
"Do you need to get anything else?"
"Just my phone and we can go." He nodded. "I'm going now, Dad."
"Alright, take care, and try not to kill him on the way," my dad said.
"I'll try. Goodbye, Mom."
"Goodbye and be nice to him."
"Oh, he will definitely receive my kindness.” I said sarcastically, and he sighed. "Look, let's forget we ever had anything and move on."
"Do you still like Starbucks?" they ask, starting the car.
"Yes, I still like it."
"Fine, I'll stop and get us something to eat."
He headed for the drive-thru along the way, turning on the radio so that there wouldn't be that awkward silence between us.
"The usual?"
"Yes."
"I'll have a strawberry Frappuccino, a caramel Frappuccino and two bacon bagels."
I was really surprised that he still remembered what I like, the bagel and the drink are my favorite things from Starbucks and I always ordered them but I didn't know he would remember.
"Are you wondering how I remember?"
"Just surprised you remember."
"I remember everything." he says and luckily the woman delivers our orders just in time. "Here."
"Thank you. I can pay for mine and..."
"I'll pay." he says and hands over the card.
We sat in silence for a long time until he decided he needed to talk about us. And the smart guy did it now that I have nowhere else to go.
"How's your life?"
"It's good."
"And the job in Milan?
"I'm still at it, I've been promoted.”
"That's incredible, I'm happy for you."
"I'm sure you are," I say wryly and he sighs. "You don't have to pretend to be proud of me because if it were up to you I wouldn't even be there."
"I've already apologized for that Y/n."
"But it doesn't change anything, your apology doesn't change what a son of a bitch you were to me. I loved you and supported you in everything, even when I thought you were only going to get into trouble, I supported you. And then when it came to me and my dreams, I’ll had to give up everything to be with you."
"I know I was selfish and I regret it, I spent all those years thinking that if you'd stayed because of me we'd be an unhappy couple. You gave up many things because of me and I should have given up everything to be with you and I didn't and I regret it every day."
"Look, let's just forget we ever had anything and move on."
He didn't say anything, only heard him sigh defeatedly and we continued the rest of the way in silence with the music playing.
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cosmosis · 11 months
Text
MOVED TO @seratopia
personal hobie headcanons!
he asks you to do his eyeliner for him; pulls you in real close and you hold his cheek with your hand, drawing on a quick smudgey look for him. he likes staring at you while you do it too.
you're his cute little rockstar gf <333, he loves taking you to his shows, sometimes drags you up on stage with him
he has this kind of adrenaline rush when he performs on stage, heartbeat thundering, sweat beading down his forehead, a somewhat proud smile on his face. you like seeing him in his element
i envision him slinging a lanky arm around you often, like he's always pulling you close by your shoulders
very attentive, he starts noticing the smallest details about you. knows where you like to be held, how you love to be kissed. he's a decent gift-giver, likes picking something up at a store if it reminds him of you.
i knowww he doesn't like labels and all that, but i cant get over hobie calling you "luv" or "sweets" like UGH got me kicking my feet fr fr
mischievous, loves to tease and poke fun at you, pinching your side with a smirk, nipping at your liip while you kiss, barges into your house without invitation, that kinda stuff
likes experimenting with fashion; somewhat genderfluid presentation of himself? i'm talking sheer tops, fishnets under distressed jeans, crop tops, maybe even a skirt or two.
never did well at school, possibly a dropout
he'll wear cute kandy bracelets that you make him along with his spiked cuffs, ones with the letter beads.
he'd help you get dressed, like tying your top into a cute little ribbon or maybeeee tying your shoes for you?
he likes putting lipstick on you!! holds you by your chin and starts dabbing makeup onto your lips. when he's done, he kisses you to seal the deal.
has a idgaf-type attitude towards pda. like if hobie wants to kiss you then he will? if hobie feels like keeping a hand on you, he will, regardless of location or circumstance
isn't the type to shop at hot-topic; instead opts for alternative thrift stores, ones that specialize//specifically sell punk-type clothing
when you sleep together, sometimes he stays up a little too late, thinking about your relationship. when it's late night, his feelings are raw and he gets a lil sappy, hugging you just a little bit tighter or pressing a kiss to your forehead.
its fun to think that hobie likes to ask you distress his clothing with him, whether it'd be utterly tearing into a t-shirt or fraying away at jeans with a pair of scissors. "that's it, yeah, maybe a li'l more?" he says, holding up the shirt with pinched fingers. "y'did a good job, though."
one day hobie shows up with a pair of platform boots, asking about your opinion on them. they're very hobie, studded with spikes, leather fraying at the creases. "whad'you think, sweets? pretty cool, right?" now he's 6'1 (pretty sure he's 5'11 at normal height)
has a prince albert piercing
handles jealousy by being like "alright, mate i'mma have to stop you right there-" casually slinging an arm over you, lightly pushing a guy away by his chest. "let's stay at least 5 feet away from my girl, yeah?" all with a slight smirk on his face
lets you wear his millions of band tees around the house
if you haven't already, hobie's music taste will start to rub off on you. he shares cute little playlists with you or starts playing with tunes on his guitar.
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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