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#whatever gn
finalgirlfailure · 1 year
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The new youtube horror does nothing for me and im really sad abt it. I grew up having to solve codes and send in my own videos of my friends and i doing dumb shit on the street to progess the story. Now its liquefy tool and out of order video playlists all the time. I seriously miss actual fucking args. I miss mass solving puzzles with randos. I miss actually changing the narrative. I almost miss the insanely stupid crossing narratives and little easter eggs to those in the same little group. I miss having to go to different channels that you weren't even sure if they were involved or not. I miss going on blogspot and other blog websites for continuations and lore. I miss having to find urls and crack things for megalinks for little downloadable videos. I miss the mass pdfs of everything we found so far. God I miss forums... Hate most of them ended up being made by fucking freaks because it really is some super fond memories I can't remake anymore with the current popular shit in the scene. Maybe I'm mad about that. Not totally knocking current shit I just haven't found anything that's even near the same as the old stuff. Maybe it's a good thing it's over too. I know it gave a lot of power and popularity to people that didnt use it correctly or fairly. Got my little 13-16 year old friend group to film us doing not age appropriate stuff for their events and shit. I don't really know it's almost midnight I gotta get up at 7.
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earthtooz · 10 months
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I have this suddenly in my mind and I need to share it, rins the type of person whos like " stop giving me morning kisses" But the day you forget to do that hes like *cold sweat* "wheres my morning kiss"
sfw but suggestive, gn!reader sits on rin's lap, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart
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rin rustles awake to the sound of the faucet running as you pull the handle of the sink and the stream clunks to life, and he can't think of a worse way to start the day.
for one, he did not need the harsh sound of water running to aggravate him.
and two, he didn't wake up to you beside him, all warm and comfortable tucked in his embrace, which is even more aggravating than the grating noise of water against ceramic.
today's an off-day that management issued; a real shame for rin because all he wants to do is spend time with you whilst fitting a quick workout in or two. it was a friday too, which is the perfect day to just relax and do nothing. however, you still have work and no matter how hard rin tried to subtly convince you, his methods did not work.
under the warmth of the covers, rin wonders if he can telepathically send a message to your brain and demand for you to come back into his arms. if you really were soulmates then you'd know, right?
as if it was scripted, you peek around the doorway of the bathroom, blinking in surprise when you see your boyfriend awake and grumpy. he feels a little triumphant when you smile at him.
but the feeling of triumph dies when that's all you do, greeting him with a 'good morning, rin' before turning back to do your skincare. blasphemy. do you even love him anymore?
feeling petty, he yawns loudly, the sound border-lining a groan in hopes of capturing your attention. nothing, you don't even peek around the doorway, instead, he hears the sound of a cap opening.
reluctantly, rin tosses the covers off and pads towards the bathroom, catching you off guard when you spot him in the mirror.
"bit early for you to be up, isn't it?" you question.
"what are you doing?" rin yawns, dodging your query completely.
"what's it look like, babe? my skincare."
he frowns. "that's not what i meant."
"then what do you mean?"
"i meant, what are you doing?" he parrots and you're only more puzzled.
"uhm... talking to you? getting ready for work-"
"you're not where you're supposed to be."
there's a beat of silence. "which is?"
"where do you think?"
"what's with the mind games this morning?" you ask.
once again, he avoids your question. "you should be in bed. with me."
at his admittance, you can't contain your laughter, turning around to cup his cheeks and for a second, rin thinks he has you right where he wants you. any second now, you'll relent and join him in going back to bed. you'll call in sick and you'll give him the good morning kiss he's been waiting for-
"-you're cute, rin, but i need to go to work today."
damnit.
"why?" rin persists.
"because i like my job, and there's big things i need to plan," you explain, turning around to face the mirror again so you can continue your morning routine but your boyfriend has other plans.
instead, he grabs your hips and spins you around so you're facing him again. this time, you see the uncharacteristic, albeit small, pout dancing along his lips. "won't you indulge me? you still haven't given me a reward for my match last weekend."
"i would beg to differ, your reward was more than satisfactory, you thought so yourself, you're just selfish."
rin grins lightly at that statement as he presses you against the bathroom counter. you're right; itoshi rin is selfish, particularly so when it comes to you. he should let you go to work, and he will, but he can't help but want to take up some of your precious time before your job snags you away from him, and he'll have to wait a laborious 8 hours before seeing you again.
"please? just a few minutes?"
exhaling through your nose, rin knows that you've given in before the words even slip out of your mouth. when they do, however, his celebratory smile is contagious as he drags you back to the bed. sitting down on the edge of it, he invites you to straddle him, the unmade sheets pooling around you naturally.
he doesn't mind living like this for the rest of his life.
"aren't you forgetting something?" asks the athlete.
you blink once, then twice. "no?"
rin holds back his groan. "kiss," is his only prompt but you seem to understand instantly with the way you throw your head back in laughter.
"you mean my normal morning kisses? i thought you hated them. always swatting me away," you lightheartedly mention.
"i do."
"fine then. no kiss."
he almost loses his cool for a second, but composes himself in the blink of an eye. rin's hands begin rubbing your hips, as if persuading you to give in.
"please?" tries the dark-haired.
relenting to the unusual softness in his icy gaze, you place a lingering kiss on the tip of his nose, but rin's got a look of displeasure settled on his expression, and you immediately know why he's upset- because you didn't kiss him on the lips like he was hoping.
"that was pathetic."
"excuse me?"
"another. do it right this time."
cute. you want to give in, but your normally stoic and hard-to-crack boyfriend is acting unusually clingy today, and you want to push your luck in this rare scenario.
"i don't want to kiss you though, you have morning breath," you murmur, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"what happened to in sickness and in health?" he murmurs, now tracing circles on your skin.
"we're not married."
"we should be, though."
you almost choke on your own spit, shocked by his boldness. "sure. let me go to work first."
his hold around you tightens as he buries his face into your neck, breathing you in as he cherishes the few minutes he has left. "hold on, i just want to be with you a little longer."
you pull him closer. "if you let me go i'll give you a morning kiss."
"a real one?"
"a real one."
he unwinds his grip ever so slightly and you let one hand trace his jaw before giving rin what he wants: his good morning kiss. he indulges in your touch and your closeness, taking whatever you provide because you always are so kind and fair to him when he's all rough edges and jagged ends.
eventually, you pull away, taking your warmth with you. you gave rin your part of the promise, now it's time for his to keep his. except it seems like he's having a harder time fulfilling it.
"i want you to stay," your boyfriend confesses, no louder than a whisper as he looks up at you through his bangs. "don't want you to go."
"i know, but i'll be back this evening and then i'll be all yours."
rin sighs, unwinding his arms and letting you climb out of his lap. a shiver runs up his spine at the absence of your weight and he doesn't like the empty feeling that fills him up.
"go back to bed, rin. you should rest." you mutter.
"after you leave."
"okay."
you give him one extra kiss before you go.
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hope u enjoyed, anon! sorry i kinda deviated a bit HELPP but i loved ur prompt (evidently), thank you for dropping by :D
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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seungbinbin · 1 year
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meet ugly - hyung line ver.
not every couple has a fairytale start !!
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a/n: first headcanons ! idk if i like this format but i thought i could try <3 lmk what u think ! i was also sleep deprived and delirious writing this but i think it’s a little funny heh
warnings: curse words, very ridiculous writing, mentions of food, gn reader ! (lmk if i missed anything!!)
bang chan
you found out there was a new neighbor on your floor
and you were just so excited to make a new friend
plus you heard the lady from the leasing office saying he was really cute 🫣
so you decided to be nice and bake him some muffins for breakfast <33333
what you didn’t know was that your neighbor stayed up until 4am producing a new song
so when you knocked on his door at 8am, bright and early, interrupting his much needed sleep…yeah, he wasn’t very happy
“what do you want? 😒”
oh 😟
you just hand him the muffins, mumble a quick sorry and RUN
he only realizes how rude he was after he wakes up a second time, hours later, seeing the HOMEMADE muffins sitting on his counter with a little note
“welcome neighbor !!!! :)))”
oh my fucking god 😭 he just HAS to apologize
when he finds you (literally knocks on every door on your floor) he says he’s so very sorry and he’s speaking so fast it makes you giggle
“it’s okay, breathe!”
and he decides right then and there that he’ll make it up to you by taking you out for coffee 😋
lee know
studying at a coffee shop was the best thing ever for you
it made it easier to concentrate on your work, it smelled delicious, and the baristas knew you so they always gave you a little cake pop for free <3
you had been hard at work for hours :( poor baby, midterm season is ROUGH
deciding to take a break to rest your eyes from looking at your screen, and your hands from writing, you took a look around and spotted the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your entire life: lee minho !
his hands were full and he looked very annoyed and you thought "woah that's so much coffee!"
what you didn't know is that he had lost the rock, paper, scissors game for coffee duty <///3
and now he was a little (very) irritated carrying 8 cups of coffee
trying to balance 8 large iced americanos was kind of hard, especially in a crowded coffee shop in the middle of lunch rush
but he had everything under control !
until someone bumped into him while he walked past your table
suddenly there was coffee everywhere; on his shirt, on his face and hair, on your face and hair...and all over your table
thankfully, you had managed to pull your laptop away from the disaster before any coffee got on it
however...your review was all wet and messed up
your 6 page, hand-written review you had been working on for the past 4 hours
"holy shit, i'm so sorry-"
and then you were crying 🧍🏻‍♀️ he didn't know what to do
when you explained everything, he offered to rewrite the review for you 🥹
he took the soggy papers with him, then asked for your number (just to ask what he should write and give you the review, totally not because you were the cutest ever! )
changbin
changbin was having an off-day at the gym
he had been trying to beat his last pr but something felt…off
maybe he pulled a muscle while practicing choreography, or his new pre-workout never kicked in
whatever it was, his mind-muscle connection was off and it was beginning to frustrate him
he was so stiff and crampy and ready to go home after his barely-successful arm day >:(
he was angrily typing on his phone with one hand, complaining about his day to chan and holding a 40 pound dumbbell on the other
definitely not watching where he was going !
he walked right into a bench and hit his shin very hard ! ouchie !
which made him lose his grip on the dumbbell and he dropped it
…right on your foot 🥴
“OW, FUCK!”
“oh NO, ARE YOU HURT!?”
“OF COURSE I AM, YOU ASSHOLE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”
please don’t yell at him he didn’t mean to ! he tears up when he sees you start to cry in pain :(
so he apologizes (and keeps doing so as he carries you to his car so he can drive you to the hospital)
when you told him your roommates were out of town and you weren’t from the area, he offered to stay with you :(
and also offered to pay for any medical expenses
oh he just felt so bad 😞
but it’s okay! the doctor said it was a minor fracture that should heal up in no time !
and like…changbin made you laugh the entire time and he’s so kind and nice and pretty and buff…
perhaps you could forgive him for shattering your big toe! but just this once !
hyunjin
you just wanted a nice, peaceful day at the park
the weather was perfect for a picnic and a book and you just had to take the opportunity
a lot of other people had the same idea to visit the local park
hyunjin included! he wanted kkami to get some fresh air and to stretch his legs from being holed up in his art studio all day
everything was going perfectly fine
and then kkami managed to get out of his leash
chaos ensued; everyone could hear his dramatic ass screaming and chasing his little dog 😭
surprise! kkami ended up at your picnic bc he wanted to eat your snacks
“hello, sweet boy!”
he was so friendly, everything was going so well! you even offered him a strawberry
and then he peed on your book
and bit your finger 🧍🏻‍♀️
hyunjin gets there 30 seconds too late and now he has to apologize for kkami and his chihuahua-ness
“oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why he would do that! are you okay!?”
yes you are…there’s a beautiful man right in front of you holding your hand and checking on you ‼️
there’s still dog pee on your book tho
“there’s a bookstore near by, can i buy you another copy?”
so cute <3 thank u kkami
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luvring · 4 months
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THE MOST ATTRACTIVE PERSON IN THE ROOM
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timeskip iwaizumi x gn!reader ft. msby + osamu, akaashi | 1.5k words, swearing, implied alcohol, suggestive?
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“okay, iwaizumi, i dare you to…” hinata drawls, tapping the wooden floor beneath him—the beat of the song that he’s gotten stuck in everyone’s heads today, you note.
“hmmm….”
“this is why we can’t play truth or dare with you, shoyo.” atsumu groans, though there’s a lopsided smile that accompanies it, before taking a sip of his drink. condensation drips down the side and he wipes it with the sleeve of his jacket.
“as if you didn’t steal my dare idea last turn!”
“can’t steal somethin’ that was never yours in the first place.”
“huh? i literally said it out loud.”
“i thought it before y’said it.”
“what?!”
“holy shit, get back to the dare.” osamu snorts and throws a pillow at their heads. “’m gonna have to retire by the time hinata comes up with 3 syllables.”
you laugh softly from your spot on the couch above. hajime snickers next to you, his arm hanging loosely above you.
not around you, of course. just above, on the couch, close enough to brush your head every time you lean a little too far back—which is why you’ve curled further into the edge instead, feet tucked under the throw blanket you had gifted hinata a few months earlier.
emboldened by the conversation as distraction, you let your eyes shift to loom at him. his cheeks are flushed, and eyes crinkled as he watches his team in amusement. there’s an almost empty drink in his left hand, more clinking ice than beverage. but he brings it to his lips to take another sip, and you watch, and you wish you could stop watching, but your eyes seem fixated on his lips as they meet the edge of his glass, and the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
the sound of bickering is muffled, and you should look away, really, it’d be embarrassing if he caught you, but he’s scratching the side of his neck, and he looks really good, and—
“okay, fine, iwaizumi.” hinata brings your focus back to the room and stares with sudden determination. “i dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.”
the two stare at each other. no immediate snarky remark or laughter follows.
you blink.
you think everyone blinks, actually.
your eyes flicker to hajime again, and you watch his mouth again, though this time it opens and closes twice, three times, as if words would appear if it silently lured them. “...i—what?”
“pfft—”
“don’t feel like getting kissed tonight, sorry, bro. alright, bo, you’re up next, right?”
“oh! yeah, wait, we’re skipping iwa?”
“oh, shut up, ’tsumu, like yer dumbass is the most attractive person in here.”
“i am, actually. objectively, even.”
“you have a twin, atsumu.”
“not seein’ your point here ’kaashi?”
“y’callin’ me ugly?”
“technically jus’ less attractive, but yeah, yer ugly.”
“guys,” you warn. you think bokuto’s still confused on who’s turn it is, while osamu’s put his drink down and sitting up straighter. “drop it. and hajime, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“yeah, but you’ll have to take a shot,” atsumu interjects.
“thought you as the self-proclaimed ‘most attractive person’ were gonna stop him anyway. was he supposed t’drink a shot if he picked ya?”
“no, we would’ve both taken shots.”
hajime raises a brow. “what? as the guy who’s supposed to have the dare—what the hell kind of logic is that? you know what—”
he lets out an exasperated sigh and moves his arm from behind you to rest on his thigh. and it’s not like it was touching you in the first place, but the vacancy makes the back of your neck feel a little colder. “fuck it, i’m tipsy enough.”
“fine, y’can kiss my cheek—”
“i’m not kissing you, atsumu,” hajime just less than growls.
atsumu puts his hands up in surrender while hinata snickers, and you think osamu’s building up to an “i told you so,” but you’re too busy watching the man next to you to really know.
there’s tension in his shoulders as he places his glass on his coaster—one of two that have actually been used, the other drinks leaving rings of water in their place. it’s a wonder that hinata has any in the first place.
your eyes move from his leg that’s started to bounce, to his hands that start to fiddle with the watch on his wrist, and then his mouth where he bites a lip.
and then they move up again, just a little higher, to his eyes—
which are already set on you.
neither of you say anything. but then his eyes flicker down to your lips, and a quick heat builds in your face, your ears, your neck. something in you thinks it must be a joke, but hajime’s already flushed face turns more red, and the (big) part of you that has a crush on him is just a little happy it seems to be because of you.
there’s no time to process that further though, his silence is enough to get the attention of the others anticipating his choice.
atsumu only looks between the both of you for a second before clapping his hands together. “ohh, ohoho—”
“ooh, iwa!”
“huh? ohh—”
“can you guys be normal for 2 minutes?” sakusa sighs and leans back into his chair, deciding to stare at the ceiling instead of his teammates if only for a moment. “and if you two are going to kiss, can you do it faster before my brain shuts down?”
“rude.”
hajime ignores them and clears his throat before facing you properly, shifting so one leg is propped on the couch underneath him. taking it as your cue, you sit up and collect your blanket to one side.
the room hasn’t been this quiet since you arrived first and offered to help set up. but it isn’t suffocating—the quiet is a buzz, and seems to sit in anticipation just as much as you.
“can i?” hajime asks softly.
you nod, your only hesitation is in wondering if he’s serious.
but even a little hesitation is enough. his lips purse, and a concerned crinkle appears between hajime’s brows that you almost want to reach to smooth out, its existence, you promise, unnecessary. he says your name. “seriously, we don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”
you’re shaking your head before he’s done his sentence. “it’s okay, haji.”
“ooh, haji—”
“shuddup, ’tsumu.”
“is it weird i feel awkward watching this?”
“aw, c’mon, ’ji, they’re cute.”
the conversation is an odd comfort as it dulls the sharp attention on you, the tension your body seems to hold everywhere.
hajime moves closer, shrinking the gap between you until your legs touch and you can count the inches between you on two hands. his cologne is easy to notice, and you wish you could pinpoint the fragrant notes, maybe write them down in your head to look for later. (you wonder if that's a weird thing to do.)
the lips your eyes had lingered on maybe a dozen times just tonight are a lot easier to watch as his tongue pokes out to lick them. subconsciously, you do the same.
then a hand comes up, hesitates before finding place on your cheek, and you let yourself lean into its touch. it’s odd—how you wished the arm behind you on the couch would accidentally move a little closer just a few minutes ago, and now your face is being held instead. you wonder if you could ever get used to it.
for a split (embarrassing) second, you even let yourself wonder what it would be like to wake up to the same touch and owner in bed beside you.
hajime looks at you, and you smile when your eyes lock. and maybe it’s your own drink kicking in, but you reach for his free hand to lace your fingers in between his as you nod once more, look at his lips one more time.
his chest rises as he takes a deep breath.
“seriously, guys, if ya don’t kiss already ’samu’s gonna start going bald.”
“the fuck?”
you can’t help the laugh that escapes you or the warm breath that hits hajime’s skin, nor can you fully get rid of the smile on your face as hajime murmurs what sounds like a “for fuck’s sake,” beneath one of his own and leans in.
and then he kisses you.
and you think there’s cheering, clapping and something about losing a bet on who’d kiss who first.
but it doesn’t matter—not while you’re finally finding out how soft hajime’s lips are, while his grip on your hand tightens, while his thumb rubs your skin and fingers moves closer to the back of your neck to pull you closer, closer.
your free hand comes to wrap around his shoulder, and he lets go of the other to reach around your back. somewhere in the back of your head you wonder how long (how deep?) a kiss is acceptable in front of an audience, but you can hear, feel, hajime take a deep breath as he pulls you close enough that his chest is pressed against yours, and you think the others can look away themselves when it’s too much—there’s someone more important to you.
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me after writing atsumu myself: wow he's so funny silly stupid 🫶 mann i don’t necessarily Want to know about perfumes and alcohol until i’m writing a fic and go ah. what the hell is a good scent. like girl what is Cedarwood ? not everyone can smell like..mint and vanilla. and how am i supposed to know what this guy would drink when all i’ve had is soju with raspberry gingerale / mango concentrate. which is rlly good btw. yummy...
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littleprincepaladin · 4 months
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were thou naughty this year? 🤨
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vote2 · 2 years
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ughhhhhhhh
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ghouljams · 4 months
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Ok but… single dad!price playing with his kid??? Ngl that’d have me asking him if he’d want more 👀👀👀
You watch as a child runs(toddles) to Price, only to be scooped up and tossed in the air by the man. You'd be more worried except that the peals of laughter speak to this being a familiar experience. Similarly the bear hug that the child is caught in, and the way Price leans forward to tip the child over his arms and kiss their cheek with a loud smack, make you think this happens a lot. "Daddy that tickles!" comes through breathless laughter, as Price pulls them both up to stand straight. He shift the kid to sit against his hip, and gives him a short bounce.
"Where's your nanny bud?" He asks, wiping some crumbs off the kid's cheek. The little boy scrunches his face up and tries to wiggle away from his father's hand. You cover your mouth to try and hide the giggle that threatens to slip free. They're a cute pair, the kid looks just like him.
"She said, um, she said," The kid can't be more than three, doing his best at talking with all the starts and stops of still learning. He glances at you, and leans against Price's shoulder, cupping his hand to whisper. Price hums, and turns his head so the kid can talk in his ear with a small smile. He mouths a silent 'sorry' at you and you shake your head with a smile. He told you he had a kid before you started dating, you can't fault him for being a father.
"You can say hi," Price tells his boy when the kiddo pulls away. He bounces him on his hip again and the kid leans his head against Price's shoulder, suddenly shy. He looks at you under his dad's jaw with a small smile and gives a little wave. You wave back with a friendly grin. "I've gotta put 'im to bed, do you mind if-"
"Not at all," You tell him, following Price inside the house when he holds the door. He directs you towards the couch and you take a seat, waiting for whatever bedtime rituals this little family of two has to finish. You can hear the soft melody of Price's voice as he sings quiet lullabies to his child through the walls, and it makes you smile a little wider. When he comes back it's with tight smile.
"Thanks for waiting, I know it's not-"
You cut him off again, "It's no trouble at all, your boy comes first." Price hums, dropping down next to you on the couch. He loops an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against his side. "You're a good dad," You say, just... well just because you know he worries about it.
"Tryin' to be," He sighs. You cuddle a little closer against him, pick your feet up to swing over his lap. His free hand drops to rest against your thigh, thumb swiping against your leg idly.
"You ever think about having more?" You ask, curious. It's not the sort of question you usually broach so early in a relationship, but watching him with his kid makes you feel a little...
"We can start tryin' any time, sweetheart." Price rumbles low in his chest, the hand on your leg squeezes gently. You laugh at the joke, and his hand slips between your legs to press against you, firm fingers rubbing just where you like. You suck in a breath and try not to rock too desperately into the touch. "Already seen how good I treat one baby," He breathes, the firm pressure between your legs terribly distracting, "you want me to fuck another into you, all you gotta do is ask."
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i can’t close my eyes alone ; satoru gojo
synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!
a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33
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okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.
in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.
it’s not comfortable at all.
maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep. 
or someone.
(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)
— nope. you are not going back there. 
just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.
your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek. 
still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.
it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue. 
slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.
soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.
so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —
the light flickers on.
in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub. 
the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.
satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.
chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.
”you’re ridiculous.”
the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. 
”turn it off!”
ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.
you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.
you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting. 
despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.
resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.
and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.
because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.
at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.
remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.
(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)
then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.
which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.
and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes. 
(he can’t sleep, either.)
”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.
a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”
satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”
”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”
another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic. 
”you’ll hurt your back.”
another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him. 
”so what?”
a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn. 
what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?
god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.
but if you aren’t there, then…
a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”
your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.
it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it. 
”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.
satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.
(that should be his chest.)
the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.
satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.
a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.
a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.
”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”
your ears perk up.
shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.
is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?
a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.
”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”
wow. 
okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.
beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid. 
clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.
”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”
under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.
god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.
he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.
and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do. 
he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.
(without you, he can’t —)
a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.
the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.
so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.
(he knows that you’re tired, too.)
so satoru swallows his pride.
the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.
”… i can’t sleep without you.”
satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.
— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.
(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)
it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help. 
with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression. 
satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.
then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.
he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.
”… please?”
a second passes. then two. 
soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless. 
(he’s just too pretty.)
without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly. 
and satoru brightens.
it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.
a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue. 
”c’mere.”
before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.
almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.
satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.
with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.
satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.
despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.
and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.
smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.
two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.
he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.
”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.
”… the bathtub was fine.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.
”stubborn girl.”
despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —
but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress. 
and satoru stifles a coo. 
”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”
before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.
unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.
his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.
”my pretty, pretty girl.”
a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.
he looks so content.
all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.
”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.
unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.
satoru notices it, though. he always does.
”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.
averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.
despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.
”… you never take me seriously.”
satoru’s eyes soften.
his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.
(you look so small.)
two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu. 
”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”
as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.
tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology. 
for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.
nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.
he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him. 
”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.
satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”
a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.
and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.
finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.
(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)
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lemonlimetoast · 2 years
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I may feel like life and everyone is passing me by, but at least my plants are doing ok
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vonne-inc · 7 months
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product: yandere boss - stolen shirt.
gender neutral reader. masturbation with clothing. typical pervert stuff. (a little bit of) yandere behavior.
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the day was quiet— the only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. tick, tick, tick, tick. a small reminder, one all too evident, that you weren't around. not now, at least.
even if your absence was temporary, he couldn't stand it. the growing need to see you was growing, and it was becoming unbearable. the only thing that kept him under control was knowing when you'd be back.
his body grew tense, looking at the ticking clock. five hours, nine minutes, and fifty-three seconds. it was still too long... still too much.
"sir?" his eyes snapped to the voice, his dilated pupils contracting. heels clicked against the floor, and soon, a plastic bag was set on his desk, "your lunch." staring at the bag, a familiar logo stamped on it, he quietly hummed.
as quickly as the substitute assistant came, she left. he paid no mind, focusing on the food. pulling the take-out container, his fingers skillfully opened it as he wafted in the smell. it was nothing expensive, rather cheap from a nearby restaurant. although it was special; a dish you commonly ordered.
ah, right. you.
his eyes flickered back to the clock. five hours, three minutes, and thirty-one seconds. only six minutes passed, "fuck..." he mumbled, the itching feeling growing again. his skin tingled, brows narrowed, and shoulders tensed.
pushing aside his lunch, letting it touch the end of his desk. he pulled his desk drawer out; a black, clean chest is shown into view. with a diligent motion, he grabs the key from his pocket and opens it with eager hands.
a sigh leaves his lips, pupils dilating once more as he spots the items inside. clothing, candid photos, perfumes, etcetera. all of it being yours. things to keep him managing whenever you're not around.
picking up one of the shirts he'd collected, unzipping it from its ziploc bag, he carefully takes the cloth and inhales your smell. it smelt just like you; your natural musk mixed with perfume.
the more he breathed in, his pants tightened as it showed his evident arousal. his legs spread wider, cock twitching, as his mind began to wander.
what would you do if you found him like this? force him to his knees and degrade him as he shows you how sorry he is? worshipping your sex with his mouth as he pleas for forgiveness.
would you let him bend you over his desk, fucking you with primal need? him whispering each perverted fantasy he's had of you; his assistant. praising you as he rips an orgasm from you repeatedly.
without thinking about it, his hands drag down his buttons shirt and toward his black pants. working at his belt, it falls loose as he slides his pants down— enough to free his cock.
the tip red, leaking with precum already, he begins to trace the veins of his length. his head throws back, eyes snapping shut as he continues. the stolen shirt had fallen from his grasp and hung on his lap, the smell still reaching his senses.
he reaches for it again, grasping it in his hand, while bucking his hip into the fabric. the loud groan resounded throughout his office. the act of your clothing being wrapped around his cock was enough to get him a needy mess.
his hand begins to stroke the cloth along his shaft, meeting the tip as it soaked in the precum forming. hips bucking up, digits balling into a fist around himself, he couldn't resist fucking into the shirt.
all he could imagine was what you'd look like with his cock thrusting inside of you. the way your face would contort, how your moans and gasps would sound, how stunning you would look riding him with his cum soaking your stomach and chest.
at that thought, he could feel the coil tightening. his grunts grew louder, eyes rolling into his skull. his thrusts became more erratic whilst his office chair squeaked underneath him.
ropes of white shot from his slit, soaking into the shirt and coating the end of his desk. cum hit his clothes, and he choked back a sob at the relief.
once he calmed down, he stared at the shirt in his grip that was still wrapped around his cock. before he thought about another perverted fantasy and become hard, he grabbed the ziploc and secured it back into the chest as he closed the drawer.
and while those hours without you were still unbearable, all that surrounded his thoughts was how much he couldn't wait to leave his newfound gift at your doorstep. he just knows that you'll be surprised to see your favorite shirt covered in his cum.
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tragedy-of-commons · 1 month
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bare (my soul)
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kaeya x gn!reader | wc: ~550
tags/warnings: domestic fluff w kaeya's baggage, he's soggy
notes: i love him
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“Kaeya, this is egregious.”
You gesture wildly at his barren walls and the desolate living space more fitting of a Favonius jail cell than a home (or so you complained moments earlier).
“Shatter my heart into pieces, why don’t you?” he sighs, then pokes your side in jest. You’re just too adorable not to play around with - even when you’re critiquing his admittedly subpar interior design skills. “Weren’t you the one who insisted on moving in with me?”
“Only because I’m generous enough to consider proximity to your workplace,” you grumble, trying in vain to balance three boxes of your things in your arms at once. “If you had moved in with me, you’d probably have to run a marathon everyday to captain your non-existent cavalry.” Kaeya plucks the top box from your stack, revealing your unimpressed face to him. He grins. “Careful. If you keep saying things like that, I just might think you like me.”
You move to set your boxes down on the floor beside his boring, singular sofa. “I could wax poetic all day about my love for you–” “Oh, I’m dying to hear it, sweetheart–” “–But we seriously need to do something about your.. lifestyle.” You imitate a pompous noble, splaying the back of your hand across your forehead in distress.
Kaeya Alberich has heard many complaints about his lifestyle. Sometimes it’s in the form of Jean criticizing the way he handles certain intel, or the way he ostensibly slacks on the job. Other times, it’s in the form of rumors that he’s especially privy to; Captain Kaeya who loves his drink a little too much, or Captain Kaeya who uses underhanded methods to deal with threats to Mondstadt.
“We’re going furniture shopping at your earliest convenience!” you beam.
Yet you’re just referring to his apartment. What a miracle you are.
He sets the box he stole earlier down, humming thoughtfully. “Is it truly that horrid here?” (It is. He steps out every chance he gets, preferring a noisy tavern or your former place over whatever husk of a building Kaeya Alberich calls “home” these days.) “Yes. Minimalists shall never be forgiven.” “Well, I’d hate to be in your bad books.” Not once do you let him slip away during the unpacking process, practically shoving your trinkets and knickknacks into his hands for him to “make the call” about where they should live. You also sneak into his closet to try and scare him, but the jingle of one of his ornate belts catching on your person gives you away. He throws the doors open with a flourish. When you pout about him being no fun, he just slides in there with you, clicking his tongue and simpering about how you’re such a troublemaker. It’s quiet and you squint through the slits of the closet door at the surrounding bedroom. “Kaeya, I know what’s been missing!” you whisper-yell at him, head knocking against a hanging cape. 
You, he wants to say, It’s always been you. What comes out instead is your voice, effectively cutting him off. “An ugly vase!”
He can get behind that too. Maybe one day he’ll show his full hand, lay out every card, and wait for the swinging ax to take off his head - and maybe you’ll just pull him along to haggle with antique dealers in the name of ironic decoration. “You read my mind, sweetheart.”
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benetnvsch · 7 months
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jasperhaleobsessed · 22 days
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What it would be like to date Jasper Hale headcanons as a human
Notes: heavily inspired by other headcanons and fanfiction I've seen. I hope you all enjoy! :)
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Jasper's cold dead heart would swoon the moment he'd lay eyes on you
He'd be careful to approach you scared you accidentally scare you off. But gradually over time he'd work the courage to talk to you and eventually you two would get to know each other better.
You would share classes together and talk about shared interests
And evntuallt you would go from strangers to friends to lovers and the rest would be history
Most definitely a Gentleman, he'd open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, and helps take your jacket off, etc, etc.
They say chivalry is dead but he proves that wrong. He's very respectful of you and polite as well. He wouldn't ever make you do something that makes you uncomfortable. He'd never force you to do anything that upsets you. And again very much a gentlemam..
Fiercely protective of you but respects your bounds
Gentle and Considerable of you as well as attentive
But most of all he'd be an amazing boyfriend and you two loved each other deeply
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snowthedemonfox · 10 months
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i still cant draw robots lol
also still trying to figure out how i want to draw her so yeah
(i should be working on af stuff rn but lol)
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devildomresidentt · 1 month
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Lucifer Headcanons
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Warnings - GN!Reader, NSFT topics, mentions of bondage, BDSM, Brat taming, S/M, Lucifer being a horny slut
Characters - GN!Reader x Lucifer
Author note - First time writing for something like this so bear with me on these 😭🙏🏾
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Loves both praise and degradation, he adores being told how pretty he looks and how well he’s doing while bottoming just as much as he loves hearing you remind him of how lewd and slutty he looks and sounds begging and whining for more under you.
Switch with a Dom lean, while domming he’s just as greedy and possessive as Mammon when it comes to you.
Mainly choked down whines and repeated pleads/begs while subbing, he’s far too prideful to let too many whines and begs slip but enough foreplay and teasing beforehand can really break down that wall of pride he sets up.
100% a service sub, he’ll put your pleasure before his every single time if it means he’ll get to see and hear just how well he’s doing for his human.
Harsh/Controlling while domming, he won’t hesitate to edge you for hours on end without release if he feels as if you don’t deserve it yet (especially if you were being too bratty for his liking)
On that note, he’s definitely a Brat Tamer, seeing someone so “inferior” to him treat him as if he’s below them really does tap into something primal within him especially when it gives him such a good reason to tie you up in any lewd position he sees fit later on.
Strong bondage kink, whether it’s him tied up for you to use him however you wish or you tied down to his bed all perfect and ready for him to use or punish as he sees fit.
Whenever he’s feeling particularly sadistic, Impact play will always be his go-to’s, I can see Lucifer having his own collection of S/M toys.
But at the end of the day, there’s no paddle nor crop that compares to the feeling of his bare palm delivering harsh slaps to your ass for each and every bratty or snarky remark you made that day.
Appearance wise, he’s cut with a light black and gray happy trail, he’s on the thinner side but he’s thick for human-standards nonetheless.
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arturleclerc · 2 months
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2006 / 2024
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