#( just so people know how the roommates look )

[moonstruckme]

Hello there! I was wondering if you would be willing to write a request that I thought up? No pressure of course. I'd love to read your rendition of it but if you don't want to that is absolutely and of course fine.

So I am a pretty emotional person, and especially when I am pmsing or on my period its a very common sight for me to be silently crying over a sad reel or a photo of a puppy or sobbing loudly if I re-read my comfort angsty fic. I really crave physical affection and coddling during my period which sucks cause I live with 2 dormmates who sleep 2 steps away from me and aren't very touchy but are very loving. Like today my friend showed me a photo of her holding a puppy who was nuzzling into her sweatshirt, claws out and hooked in her sleeve and all and ofc I started crying. My other roommate was like don't show it to her she's on her period, she will cry. But then she was like, on second thought do, I enjoy her tears 💀.

On to my actual request now, sorry for rambling 😅

So I was wondering if the reader had a similar tendency with her emotions and hormones around her cycle, how the marauders would deal with it you know? Would they be used to it, asking if its just a leaky faucet to let some emotional pressure out (that happens a lot with me lol) or actual crying. If they would be freaking out no matter how often it happens. Or how they would coddle her.. very curious to see if you pick this up! Thanks for reading nonetheless <3<3

Haha thank you for your request angel <3

cw: reader who menstruates, mention of animals in televion industry, Sirius is not good with tears

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 644 words

You try not to make a spectacle of yourself. You really do. You hide in the corner of the couch, feeling the burn of your sinuses and eventually letting a couple of tears roll down your face without lifting a hand to wipe them. Your throat squeezes. Your temples ache. 

Despite your best efforts, all it takes is one tiny sniffle to get the attention of your boyfriends. 

James’ arm tightens around your shoulders. His cheek squishes into your head, voice heavy with sympathy as you both look at the TV. “I know, angel. It ends alright, though, yeah?” 

“All he does,” you choke out, watching the dog on the screen through blurry vision, “is wait for his owner to come home every day. That’s his whole life.” 

“It’s an advert for dog kibble!” Sirius protests. 

You shrug, weeping, and Sirius gives a short laugh tinged with anxiety. Remus sets a hand on his knee. 

“Sweetheart,” Remus says gently, “I’m sure that in real life, that dog is very well taken care of. He probably gets plenty of attention and time with his owners. He’s famous, right?” 

You nod, though you can’t help a tiny sob as the on-screen dog sits straight up at the sound of a key in the door. “Right.” 

“Right.” Remus gives you a kind look. “You okay? Not upset about anything else?” 

“Yeah.” You sniffle weakly. “M’okay, just. My head hurts.” 

James makes the sort of syrupy pitying sound that has your throat contracting all over again. “Do you think it might be the crying, lovie? It’s not the first time that commercial’s been on today. You could be dehydrated.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ll fetch you a paracetamol and some water to be sure.” Remus stands, patting Sirius’ thigh consolingly when the other boy shifts off his lap with the movement. He touches the top of your head as he walks behind the couch, and James kisses the spot as though to second it. 

“Baby.” Sirius turns to you with a stern look. “First the Lorax last night, and now this? The ad’s not even on anymore; it’s finished.” 

“It’s just…” You swallow, fighting to keep your voice solid. “Do you think all pets feel like that? When their people leave to go to work?” 

“No, honey,” James consoles you. “I think they’re happy to amuse themselves while we’re gone.” 

“They’re perfectly fine,” says Sirius, not unkindly. “Stop crying.” 

“Don’t be mean.” James gathers you closer. “She’s on her period, she’s entitled to some crying.”

“It’s like the hiccups, James. You’ve got to scare it off.” 

“That’s barbaric.” 

“What’s barbaric is the television industry that keeps making our girlfriend burst into tears at random points in the day!” 

“You guys.” You’re nearly laughing now. With tears still wet on your cheeks, Sirius hardly looks comforted. “Don’t fight.” 

“We’re not fighting.” James is quick to mollify you. 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus returns with your painkillers, bending to wipe your face with a put upon frown. “Are they upsetting you?” 

“God, no.” Sirius reclines back against the cushions, blowing a breath up towards the ceiling. “What chance have we of doing that, when there’s wealthy dog actors to do it for us?” 

You take the water Remus has brought you, downing the painkiller. “Do you really think the dog gets decent money from the advert?” you ask as he pets your hair dotingly. 

James ponders this. “Even if it’s not very much, I’d bet his owners put as much of it back into him as they can. He probably sleeps on a memory foam dog bed.” 

Sirius is watching your face distressedly. “Baby,” he nearly pleads. “It’s okay.” 

“No, that’s good,” you manage, voice a quiet squeak as your eyes fill again. “I just think that’s a really nice life for him. He deserves it.” 

[b3ach-bunn7]

READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

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It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 

But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.” 

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

[rottenherbs]

Something Batty // F.W x hufflepuff! Reader

Summary: You had gotten to your wits end over the winter break. No more homework to get ahead on, no more hobbies that filled your satisfaction. It was you and the empty castle. Could you attempt to write down and locate all the hidden passageways and paintings on the walls? The castle was big, but your desire for an adventure was bigger. 

Word Count: 3.4k

Authors note: reader is Hufflepuff! Honestly you could 1000% fake any of the other houses but since they are a quidditch player it wouldn’t make much sense for them not to be familiar with Fred if they were gryffindor. ((Love u)) thank you for reading. 

[masterlist]

Much Love, Saige 

—————

It was hard to describe the beauty of Hogwarts to those who hadn't seen it before. A castle, right. Large and ornate, right. Dark accademia, of course. People talk about how large Hogwarts in a way that they talk about the weather. Just boring conversation to fill the air. We all know how large it is, but you can't really fathom the amount of moving paintings on the wall, the amount of locked doors, the amount of hidden passageways, until you count them. 

You honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend your time. It was winter break, the new year had come and gone and you had still a few weeks until classes would start once more. You missed your friends, most of them off with their families or on trips to places much warmer than the Scottish Highlands. The mountains had a distinct way of making you feel even more trapped in by snow than during the summer months.

You were absolutely, ultimately, and utterly bored.

Laying face up on your bed, you spread your legs starfish style, looking up at the four poster in dread. Another day - nothing to do. 

“Get out of bed for dear god.” You moaned to yourself. Your dormitory was empty, all of your roommates off with their families and friends. You had actually begged to stay at Hogwarts over the winter break, wanting to do it at least once over your term here, but it was more dreadful than you imagined. 

“Maybe if I stare at the ceiling for long enough I could catch the atoms moving.” You mumbled, your inner thoughts falling out of your lips. It’s not like anyone was around, you might as well talk to yourself. 

Taking a few more minutes to lay in silence, you flopped your head to the side trying to read the clock on the wall.

7:45am

Flopping your head back, you bit your lip in frustration.

”Come on.’ You encouraged yourself, slouching yourself up and over the edge of the bed. Taking your first few steps, you looked around trying to find the comfy sweat set you had gotten for quidditch practice. Tucked neatly in your dresser, you pulled out the matching set, relieved that at least over the break you were not expected in your uniforms. 

Feeling accomplished purely by changing your clothing, you grabbed your field guide notebook and shoved it in your pant pocket, making your way through the common room. 

A few students had made their way out of the bedrooms, mostly the academic students with their nose in their books. Most of the students who had stayed over the break would be asleep past lunch time, catching up on as much rest as they could before the school year starts again. 

Like most days, you didn’t recognize most of the students, giving small smiles to those who met your eyes as you kept on towards the entrance. 

The sun had just created the mountains, cascading a warm glow across the wooden pillars wrapped thoroughly with vines and plants. Part of you was grateful that you got so much vitamin d and oxygen from purely the hufflepuff common room. 

Exiting into the hallway, your senses were overtaken by the kitchens just around the corner. The smell of bacon and warm maple syrup made your stomach rumble immediately. You fought yourself to just enter the kitchens now, knowing the house elf’s would feed you in a heartbeat, but you turned and made your way up the stairs to eat in the great hall as they intended. 

Climbing the stairs, you passed a few paintings, still fast asleep in their little worlds, the sounds of their snores only faintly audible to your ears. Stopping in your tracks you decided here was as good a place as any to begin counting. 

Pulling out your notebook, you flipped to the newest page making columns for the paintings, where they were, and if they were nice or not. You thought it might be valuable to you to know who would be willing to talk to you later in case you begin to lose your marbles over the next few weeks.  

To your right was a smaller wooden frame image of a young woman, her clothes slightly tattered but still full of color. Her head rested on her hands held up by a beautiful throne that she sat on. Her crown tipped slightly with her head but not enough to warrant it to fall. Writing on your notepad; Queen (?), Hufflepuff hallway, n/a

You made a mental note to see if she was awake later to find out if she was nice or not, but knew if you woke her up now your findings may be skewed. Walking to the next panting you did the same. 

Lord Barquete, Hufflepuff hallway, n/a 

Making your way down the hallway, your notebook filled up nicely, the information slowly growing in your head more and more now that you had given the paintings more than a glance. You were amazed at the many different painting styles and the way they revealed more about the people and characters inside. Magic was interesting, but art was fascinating. 

After a half hour of writing, you made your way to the great hall, now thoroughly starving. Slapping the notebook closed, you shoved it back in your pants pocket ready to devour whatever was made for breakfast. 

“Quite the notes you were taking back there.” A voice loomed behind you. Jumping out of your skin, you turned around quickly, now face to face — well not exactly face to face — with one of the gryffindor beaters, you honestly had no clue which one. 

“Sorry didn’t mean to give you that much of a fright.” He laughed, his hands up near his chest in defense. His smile was infectious, relieving your nerves immediately. You smiled and regained your balance. 

“Fred.” He outstretched his hand, taking yours mid air. “I wasn't like.. stalking you i just saw you on the way here. I don't think anyone’s given the paintings that much attention, unwilling filch cleans them.” He smiled, his hand still shaking yours. You chuckled at his continuous action, the feeling now warm and slightly foolish. 

“Y/n — Yeah, uh I decided to write down and attempt to count all of the patinings.” You shrugged your shoulders, your hand slipping from his fingertips back to your sides. Your eyes glance quickly from his eyes to his hands, hoping he didn’t notice.

”All of them?” He scoffed.”You might be seriously batty.” 

“All of them.” You repeated, nodding your head. “I don't think I could conceptualize how absolutely bored I am.” You chuckle, turning slightly to walk towards an empty seat at a table. Fred followed, his interest in your little adventure growing further. 

“What, you don't have quidditch practice every day?” He motions towards your outfit, his eyebrow raised. 

“Do you have quidditch practice everyday?” You ask, your eyes widening at his question. Sitting down at the wooden table, two plates appeared in front of both of you. 

“Uh yeah unfortunately. They asked if we could stay back this break. Especially since my brother had just started this year he really could use the help.” He chuffed, his hands working in tandem with his words, grabbing several sausages and links to pile onto his plate. 

“Ah, it seems like fun though. Got the whole family on the team now eh?” You tipped, your eyes looking at the banquet in front of you, not knowing where to start. You grabbed the pitcher of orange juice and began to pour. 

“I’m not sure, it can sorta feel like i can't escape my family.” He mumbled, his voice slightly lower as he spoke. The words hit you like bullets, relating deeply to his sentiment. 

“I know how you feel. I wanted to stay over break to kinda — escape from it all.” You said, settling the juice down and rethinking what you said. “That sounds dramatic. I’m just burnt out, I suppose , from my family.” You shrugged, the words only touching the surface of your home challenges. 

Fred nodded his head, his fork now poking at the food on his plate. 

”I get it. It’s not bad to want to get away sometimes.” He shrugged, wanting to know more but not wanting to pry too early. He was at least happy to have breakfast with someone not in his bloodline. 

Both of you ate in silence for a minute, enjoying the food and morning light through the great hall. After Fred finished half of his plate, he cleared his throat. 

“So.” He smiled, his attention fixated on his plate. His fork twitched slightly in his hand. 

“So.” You repeated, a smile growing on your face. You weren't sure what he was about, but something in you was festering about his every move. 

“Do you think i could tag along today?” He turned, his eyebrows furrowed as if to intimate you.

”Not ten minutes ago you called me batty!” You quipped, dropping your fork on top of your plate. 

“Oh right. Well okay.” He laughed, his finger now taping his chin in thought. “I’d be alright being a little batty today.” He looked into the distance, pondering the notion. You lightly hit his shoulder, his face breaking out into a large smile. 

“Okay seriously. Ill respect your craft.” He laughed, flinching away from your hands. “Or whatever you call this little thing” his hands waved around you, the action making your hands raise again in defense, his laughter louder as you pretend to hit him once more. 

You both laughed, turning back to your meals, attempting to catch your breath. 

“Yes you may join me.” You mumbled, taking a large bite of bacon. “But!” You pointed the strip of bacon at him, mock threateningly. “We have got to finish the list eh? No funny business.” 

“Oh please. Funny business is my middle name.” He poshed, his hand resting softly against his chest. You rolled your eyes, finishing the last of the bacon before clearing your plate. 

“I suppose anything is better than being alone.” You added, watching him finish off his breakfast. He held up his napkin, flicking it out from its folden position on the table, sloppily wiping his face. You shook your head in disbelief, turning and standing up. Fred followed, his hands dusting off the crumbs from his jumper, his eyes excited as he waited for you to make the first move. 

“Where first.” He asked plainly, his hands now tucked neatly into his jean pockets. His stature was much taller than you, his height accentuated by his long legs, mostly hidden beneath school robes. 

Clearing your throat, you realized how long you had been standing in silence, looking over his frame. You turned towards the entrance, hoping to hide your red cheeks. 

“Uh, this way - “ you began walking ahead, your face scrunched slightly from embarrassment, trying your best to regain composure once you both exited the great hall. Fred followed behind silently, only the sounds of his sneakers hitting the floor in tandem with you alerting you that he was still there. 

Once you walked out of the open doors, Fred met your side, his eyes up and around the hall at the many paintings. Turning down at you, he motioned towards the small notebook in your hands. 

“So what is it that you're writing?” He asked politely, his jaunting banter from before now neutralized as he leaned in to listen. 

“Oh! Uh so, Here ill write who’s in the painting, then where they are located, and if they are nice or not.” You pointed at each section, flipping through the pages that you had written this morning. 

“Nice or not is a good touch. It’s foul to talk to a painting that just insults you for saying good morning.” He scoffs, a tinge of truth coming from his concern. 

“Tell me about it. I passed Gifford Abbot once and he asked if I had any food, I told him now, and he then proceeded to tell the portrait next to him how much of a waste the new Hufflepuff students were.” You laughed, both of you approaching a new painting. 

“That’s insane.” Fred stifled. “I love going to the kitchens. Surprised you haven't caught me sneaking in over near your common room before.” He nudged, your eyes bouncing between his face and the painting in front of you. You couldn't help but feel distracted by his personality, the thought of catching him at night making your stomach churn, or was it butterflies….. 

“You seem like the type to get into trouble.” You stated, your pencil working on the notebook in your hands, trying to not take the chance and look at the boy. You couldn't tell if he was teasing, just being playful, or something else. 

“Yeah that's an accurate statement.” He leaned over, looking at what you were writing. ”Time to find out if they're nice or not — HELLO Sir….” He moved over, attempting to read the placard by the painting's frame, the sound of his voice boomed the painting awake. “Sir Goerge Von Rheticus.” His voice faltered off as he read, the painting sitting himself up in his chair, his eyes staring daggers into Fred's head. 

“What is it that you need, boy.” Sir Rheticus spat, his eyes visibly sleepy, blinking slowly. 

“Well. Me and my partner here were just doing a study on the paintings you see.” He nudged you, urging you to finish off where he started. 

“Yes um… Me and my partner —“ you coughed, flipping though your notebook anxiously, feeling quite put on the spot - “Were wondering about the paintings in the castle. Could you tell us a little about yourself?” You asked, your fingers holding the pencil tightly above the page, waiting for his response. 

“Hmmm.” He sat back, his body a little more relaxed as you spoke. You could feel a change in demeanor when he addressed you, feeling a sense of appreciation for who he was, rather than being awoken so rudely. 

“Well.. My name is George, but do call me Sir Rheticus, I am a mathematician and astronomer. My true surname was Von Lauchen, but my father was brutally executed and my remaining family was exiled. I had chosen Rheticus from the Roman province of Rhaetia.” Rheticus spoke, his words flowing out as if scripted to recite if someone asked who he was.

Your pencil scribbled viciously at his answer, hoping to catch what you could as he spoke. Fred's body standing still next to yours, looking between your notebook and the painting occasionally, fighting off a fit of laughter as you wrote. 

After Rheticus finished, he sat with his hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently for you to cease writing. You looked up after a minute, visibly satisfied with his answer.

”Thank you. Ahem Sir Rheticus. We shall see you around.” You flipped the notebook closed, bowing slighlty at the painting awkwardly and tugging Fred along the hallway, the whole interaction very strange. 

“Are we doing that every time or - “ he asked, your hand still around his wrist as you pulled him further away from the painting. You waited till you felt comfortable that you weren’t in earshot anymore. 

“Dear god, no.” You sighed, opening your book again. “Okay… Nice?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Fred nodded, watching you write in the notebook. He found your actions cute. This whole idea of writing down the paintings was silly but he had to admit that he has never seen anyone do it before, and you seemed like an original character yourself.

Turning down to the right you looked around, many paintings at your disposal. 

“Okay you pick the next one.” You gestured vaguely, the numerous paintings surrounding you both.  He gestured his head towards a woman down on the right near the end of the hallway. Luckily for you both, she was already away, her hands twiddling with some yarn in front of her. Fred grabbed your wrist, pulling you quickly towards the painting, his fingertips holding your skin sending hot fire through your body. 

Arriving at the portrait, Freds fingers lingered on your skin, his body noticeably closer to yours as you stood. You pulled your notebook out, moving your hands from your sides, grazing his body as you moved. 

“Ahem excuse me.” You spoke quietly, the woman’s hair cascading in front of her face. IT was red and curly, it falling past her elbows and moving as she worked. She looked up from her hands, her pale skin much more noticeable now next to her warm hair. 

“Mmm?” She hummed, her attention only on you, not looking at Fred. She didn’t seem bothered by your interruption, but her gaze felt to push you to your point of distracting her. 

“I was just doing a study on the paintings and wanted to know a little about yourself.” You motioned towards your notebook — “if you had the time i mean,” You added, your voice faltering the more you spoke. 

“Well darling, I'm the Goddess of Fertility.” She spoke plainly, her head tilting lightly. “But i can see you two are doing just fine. I can tell.” She smiled, her eyes now bouncing between you and Fred. Both of your cheeks flamed red 

“oh no i-“

”We aren’t”

“I mean we have not-”

”Not that I wouldn’t-  

“But we wouldn't-“ 

Both of you stumbling over your words, the thought of the painting hinting at your fertility was one thing, but together was another. You both fought over your words, looking at each other every once in a while but feeling immense amounts of embarrassment when your eyes met. 

“I can see things the mortal eye cannot! Do you take me as a liar?” She boasted, your calamity to her prophecy seemed to have stuck a nerve, her hands now ceasing to move in her lap, her body forthright at ridged. 

“No ma’am, we just-“ You started.

”We're not together-“ Fred finished.

”Perhaps not at this moment.” She spoke matter of factly, her hair shaking with her head as she looked at you both. The silence that filled the hallway after that sent chills down your spine. 

“Thank you for your time.” Fred said abruptly, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the doors and walking through them quickly. Your face was red as beets from the conversation, too preoccupied at the interaction to feel the sensation of his hand enveloping yours. 

You both were hit with a freezing cold breeze as you walked outside, the feeling immediately alleviating the warmth on your skin. You took one look at Fred, both bursting out in laughter. 

“That was mad!” He chuffed, his hands on his knees, heaving in the air.

”Fertility?” You shouted, “I’m practically still a child!” 

“These paintings.” He shook his head, his body now upright, his shoulders relaxed. He laughed still lightly at you, not able to beat the thought of her implications. Was she out of her mind? Was there really something here to be built? His mind wracked as he watched you overcome your laughter, standing back up. The wind pushed your hair back, your ears and nose now visibly red from the cold breeze. 

“Alright lets go back in, you're shivering.” He motioned towards the door, his hand on the small of your back urging you forward. You nodded and sniffled as you got inside, the snow following you both as the door shut. 

“So.” He cleared his throat.

”So.” You smiled, looking up at him again. 

“Do we dare try another portrait?” He asked, his eyebrows raised, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Only if you're feeling batty .” 

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Kill my time // Quinn Hughes

In a city full of lonely people, I just want you all to myself

summary: birthday celebrations causing jealousy while struggling to turn a certain age

warnings: drinking, clubbing, smut (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe I’m going to a bar like I’m in my early twenties again.”

I smoothed my dress down, picking apart everything wrong with me as I looked in the mirror. Turning thirty felt like my world was about to collapse, and what made it worse was knowing my boyfriend was only turning twenty five just two days after me.

“Not to mention with a bunch of guys who are twenty one.” My roommate added as she fixed us a couple of drinks. I saw her bring out a bottle of tequila, knowing I was going to be in for a long night.

“Ugh, what did I get myself into?”

“Girl, it’s fine! Quinn doesn’t care about your age so why should you?” She asks, passing me whatever concoction she made. A took a small sip, realizing it was tequila and soda…more like tequila with a splash of soda.

Deep down I knew she was right, because when I told Quinn I was older than him it didn’t phase him at all, I completely expected him to run. He told me the idea of being with someone older was a big turn on for him, something he didn’t discover until he met me. As for me, it didn’t matter what age the men were I dated, they were all extremely immature. I knew it was a risk with Quinn but he definitely didn’t act like men his age. After all he was the captain of an NHL team, he had to have a strong head on his shoulders.

An hour later I was making my way through a busy drunken crowd, holding onto Quinn’s hand for dear life. For whatever reason, his teammates chose this club to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wouldn’t have been my first choice, and I don’t think Quinn was thrilled on it either but he was too quiet to say anything. We always made the best of a bad situation and I knew tonight wouldn’t be any different. House music and lights were bouncing off the walls, making it hard to focus on where we were going. We finally got into our booth and a heavy sigh left me, I definitely wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Quinn’s velvet voice echoed in my ear, calming my nerves. His eyes were bright green, almost enchanting as they peered into mine. My face grew hot, wondering how it was humanly possible for someone to be this gorgeous.

“Yeah it’s just been a while.” I wasn’t lying either. I spent most of my time in breweries with my friends since most of us were over going to clubs. Quinn likes to tell me he doesn’t like going out, but give him a few drinks and he makes a liar out of himself.

He pulled me closer to him, so close I could feel his stubble on my neck. “I won’t leave your side at all, I promise.”

“Okay.” I nodded before he gently brushed his lips over mine. I got lost in our own little world, the music melted away and I forgot we were in the middle of a busy club surrounded by strangers.

“Let’s celebrate, it’s your birthday after all.”

I rolled my eyes, “it’s also yours in two days.”

“Yeah, but …” his words trail off as he runs the pad of his thumb over my lip, “today brought me you.”

“How does it feel to be with a thirty year old?” The words falling last my lips causing my eyes to roll again. That number just didn’t sit right with me. “I’m officially an old lady.”

“Thirty has never looked better.” He mused, his hand running up my hip and pressing me closer to him. I pulled him into another kiss, his cologne hit me like a tidal wave causing butterflies in my stomach. His hand ran up my neck and gripped me tighter while his tongue begged to enter my mouth. We stayed like that, blissfully unaware of reality until his teammates came over with trays of various shots.

“Okay lover boy that’s enough. Let’s get you drunk.”

One thing about partying with hockey players is all of them have no limits when it comes to spending. I had to finally stop accepting every shot they brought around after the room began to spin. Best part of the night though was that the Devils were in town, so Jack and Luke, Quinn’s brothers were here to celebrate with everyone. This was only my second time meeting them but they were extremely welcoming and treated me like I was their sister. Jack at one point asked me to go dance with him and I couldn’t help but say yes.

“So how does it feel to be thirty?” Jack yelled into my ear as we danced to one of my favourite John Summit songs.

“Terrible. I’m almost a decade older than you!”

“You make thirty look so good though.” He smirks as Luke came behind me and picked me up, causing me to scream at him to put me down. As much as I fought he kept me over his shoulder.

“I just want you to know we fucking love you and you make my brother so happy.” Luke added as he finally put me down, the room was still spinning so I had to brace myself against him to make it stop.

“Thanks buddy.” I jumped a little, feeling Quinn’s hand on my back. His face was flushed, telling me he was taking shots without me.

“Can I have my girlfriend back now?”

“Sorry bro!” Luke kissed the top of my head before him and Jack ran off to grab more drinks.

“You okay?” I asked Quinn as I turned to him, he smelt like whiskey and honey as he brought his lips to my neck.

“I will be.” He mumbles, burrowing his face into my neck. “I’m glad my brothers like you, but you’re my girlfriend. Not theirs.”

“Do you think they’re gonna steal me?” I clasped my mouth, trying to hold in my laughter because I know he was being serious. It was downright adorable.

“Maybe.”

“But I’m yours” I assured him, pressing closer to his body. My hands teaching behind his neck, slipping stands of his hair between my fingers. “No one will ever steal me from you.”

“Prove it.” He replied with such confidence, not taking his eyes off my lips. His hands reached up to my hips, pressing me even closer to him. I gasped as I felt his erection brush up against my leg, “come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” He mumbled, his eyes glazed with desire and whatever was in his system. I grabbed his hand, not knowing where he was taking me.

Quinn guided me into a private bathroom and locked the door. His hand brushed gently over my chest, hooking his finger under the strap of my dress. I watched him with intent, my heart pounding so fast I was surprised he didn’t feel it.

“You belong to me.” He whispered, slowly bringing me closer to him. My hands braced onto his chest as he captured my mouth into a kiss that started off sweet but grew sloppy.

“Let’s not wait then, birthday boy.”

He smirked so devilishly that I felt something more than butterflies in my stomach. Our kisses were met with biting of lower lips and Quinn grabbed my dress so tight I thought it was going to split. I wasted no time and began to unbutton his pants, dropping to my knees in the process. His dick sprung out of his boxers, dripping with pre-cum as my eyes widened.

“Stick your tongue out baby.”

My exposed tongue was met with his tip as he gently circled over my taste buds. I could taste him already, it was making my mouth salivate and run down my chin.

“Such a good girl.” He breathed as his free hand tugged on my hair. “Open your mouth for me.”

I did as I was told and Quinn slowly slid his erection into my mouth, inch by inch until his tip hit the back of my throat. He bit his lip as I began to slide my mouth up and down, his grip on my hair getting tighter.

“Fuck, baby this feels so good.” He deeply moaned, making me feel it in the back of my throat. “Such a good girl taking my whole dick in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

I could tell he was getting close with how laboured his breathing became. I removed my mouth from him and began to lick his tip that was glistening with my spit. He looked down at me with pleading eyes, as if me mouth fucking him was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Come in my mouth Quinn, I know what you want to.”

“Not yet.” His voice sounded so husky as he motioned for me to stand up. I wiped my mouth, taking a long look at him. “Your turn birthday girl.”

I couldn’t help but giggle as he picked me up and sat me on the bathroom counter. My back rested against the mirror as he spread my legs, situating himself between them. When our eyes met my heart felt like it was going to explode, I’ve never seen him like this before.

“How bad do you need me right now?” He asked, slowly taking my lip between his teeth again.

“I need you so fucking badly.”

He makes his home between my thighs and begins to tease me with his tip. I regretted wearing underwear tonight but feeling his pre cum soak the lace was the sweetest form of torture, and he knew it.


“Tell me again…how bad do you need me?” I couldn’t get a word out. His laugh was dark as he fluttered his somber eyes at me, “use your words sweetheart, what do you want for your birthday?”

“I want you.”

“That’s a good start.” He muses, applying pressure on my thighs with his thumbs, “where do you want me?”

No words were leaving me as I gasped for air. Quinn began to run his mouth over my jaw, down to my collarbone, nipping slightly at the skin. I grabbed his hand and guided it between my thighs, his thumb instantly pressing onto my underwear.

“Right there?” He asks, slowly moving my underwear to the side. A small gasp in satisfaction left him as he felt how soaked I was for him. I just nodded, whimpering already from his touch. “Tell me how much you wish this was my dick instead?”

“Quinn, I need you please … I’m yours.”

“That’s my girl.” He replied so proudly, pushing his tip inside of me slowly. His head falls back once he’s fully inside me and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “Fuck you feel so good, so fucking good.”

Quinn started off slowly, teasing my clit simultaneously with each stroke. He leaned into my ear, continuously praising me as his strokes became faster and harder. Sweat rolled down me as the building started up in my stomach, that familiar flutter began to take over and I knew I was done for. My nails dug into his back as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder as my orgasm left my body.

“Fuck I’m gonna -“

It only took a few seconds before he spilled into me. His hands gently found my face, guiding me to look at him. My legs were still shaking as he kissed me so softly. I was in a complete haze as we broke apart, that one unruly strand of hair fell in front of his face as he studied me. He was so beautiful, there were no other words to describe him.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He mused, gently kissing all the tattoos on my arm. Funny thing,

I never thought he’d go for a girl with a full sleeve and dark hair like me. He struck me as someone who went for blonde Instagram models but, once again he proved me wrong.

“You definitely just gave me the best birthday present ever.” I lightly laughed.

He titled his head to the side, cupping my cheek, “I don’t think anything will be beat the gift you gave me.”

“What’s that?”

“You.”

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Two

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: drinking, author who is terrible about being consistent with tenses, incredibly down bad main characters (be gentle with Paige and Maya guys, the first love WLW situationship breakup is ROUGH)

Authors note: Not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like it gives a decent amount of context. Prepare for more flashbacks next chapter. Also this is highkey not proofread so … approach with caution there.

August 26, 2023

The drive from Stamford to Storrs is about two hours, traffic permitting. My mom waits approximately 20 minutes before she begins the inevitable interrogation session into the state of my life. More specifically, the train wreck it has become.

“You know, I really think you should consider rejoining mock trial. You loved it for so long, and look how many friends you made.” She rambles, her eyes never leaving I-95. “You probably would have never met Brooke if you hadn’t joined mock trial.”

Brooke and I met as co-counselors at a mock trial summer intensive for high schoolers at Yale the summer after my freshman year of college. Turns out trying to keep track of a bunch of hormonal fifteen year olds is a bonding experience like no other. She quickly became my formerly long-distance best friend and very soon-to-be roommate. 

“I told you, I’ll check it out when I get there.” I say, half telling the truth and half just trying to get her to change the subject. Clearly, my attempt was failing.

“I just want to make sure you’re making the most of college. I know University of Minnesota was not your thing, but I want you to find your why when it comes to Connecticut.”

I sighed. One of the perks of having a therapist as a mother is that you always have someone to listen to your petty problems without judgement. The downside is that she’s always trying to dig deeper, even when I really do not want to. “My why is being close to you. Plus, UConn is close enough to New York.”

“And close to Paige.” This remark nearly makes me choke.

“Mom!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She quickly apologizes, though knowing her she knew damn well what kind of reaction she would receive. I never told her full details of what actually went down between us - maybe because I thought it would be too embarrassing, or maybe because I knew that if she ended up in my mom’s bad graces, there was no coming back from that. All she knew is that at one point we were friends, then we were more than friends, and then things got messed up and we don’t talk anymore. She also knows that I really don’t like talking about it with her. “Does she know you’re coming?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, I didn’t tell her.” 

The last text I had sent Paige was shortly after the basketball player announced she tore her ACL. Despite the tension between us, it felt wrong to say nothing in these circumstances. Basketball was Paige’s world, and I couldn’t even fathom the grief she must have felt. I received a “thank you maya, i hope you’re doing well. miss u” in return. It took everything in me not to call the blonde after reading the last five letters. 

Thankfully, my moms line of questioning ends there, and she returns to the driving playlist we made together the night before, an eclectic mix of 80’s hits with the occasional R&B ballad. Occasionally I hear her sing along, letting the crack of fresh air from the car window flow through her almost-black hair. Some people say I’m basically her twin: same dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and short stature. I just wish I got a fraction of her curves.

The rest of the car ride, I alternate between reading the newest Emily Henry book and messaging Brooke, who has been sending me updates on our new apartment. She moved into a couple of days ago while my mom and I were still on our girls trip to New York City, and her texts ranged from “ill give you the room with the ensuite bathroom if i can have the bigger room” (deal) to “our neighbors are FINE” (knowing her taste in men, doubtful). 

After what feels like too long in the car (maybe I never actually got over my tendency to get carsick), we pull into a lot. there it is: My new apartment, a small building surrounded by others similar to it and tall trees, still wrapped in vibrant green hues untouched by the incoming fall. I hear a yell from across the lot as I step out, but I’m so overwhelmed by the new sensations in Storrs that it takes my brain a moment to process that the tall figure running across the lot with a truly impressive speed was my best friend.

Brooke barrels towards me, wrapping me in a hug that nearly tips me over. “About time you got here!” She grabs my shoulders, her white acrylics a comfortably familiar sensation on my skin, before turning to my mom with her award-winning smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m Brooke. Wow, you could have convinced me you two were sisters. You’re gonna have to give me your skincare routine before you leave.” She gestures to my mom, who giggles. I can tell that her day has been made.

I will never fail to tell Brooke Jones that she is perhaps the most charismatic person I have ever met. When I’m in Mock Trial, I will fight to make my voice heard. Outside of the courtroom, however, I tend to lean on the more reserved side. On the first day of counselor training, it was as if she could sniff out how nervous I was and made it her personal mission to befriend me. And one thing about Brooke: she will make you talk. Somehow I don’t mind it as much when I’m with her. 

So it’s a great sight when Brooke and my mom trail ahead of me, hands filled with various decor items and chatting (I think I hear one of them mention bringing out photos of me in seventh grade, an action I know I will have to intercept later for my own sanity).  

About three hours later, with the hard work of the three of us supplemented by SZA’s discography, my space is set up just enough to where I can sleep comfortably for the next few nights. Brooke pulls my mom in first, after getting her phone number “for emergencies”. Next, it’s my turn. 

“Alright, you know what I’m about to say.”

“We’re not going to throw a party, I know you’re worried about the security deposit.” Behind my mom’s shoulder, I could see Brooke’s brows furrow as she mouthed don’t promise that. 

“No, I meant have fun. Take risks. Find your why,” She grabs my shoulders at the last word for emphasis, and it’s hard to believe that this is my real life and not some after school motivational special. 

We embrace one last time. Despite her cheesy moments, I am reminded just how much I’m going to miss seeing my mom every day. After three years of being in closer proximity to my dad, it was nice to spend the summer in Stamford, my days filled with NYT crossword games by the water and day trips into New York City. This summer solidified that it didn’t even need to be Boston - I was just happier on the east coast. 

“I like your mom, she’s sweet.” I hear Brooke say as we watch the white Toyota leave the parking lot from our third floor window. Our view is perfect, and I picture what it will be like to watch the leaves change from it as the semester goes on. It makes the last few hours of lugging furniture and suitcases up flights of stairs worth it.

“I love her when she’s not trying to psychoanalyze every decision I make,” I chuckle, moving to continue unpacking some miscellaneous items in the kitchen.

Brooke follows me. “Is that what that whole ‘find your why’ thing was about?” 

“Got a whole interrogation in the car. Everyone in my family thinks I’m having some sort of crisis,” I place a stack of plates (a gift from my mom’s boyfriend) in a cabinet. “She even suggested I came here for Paige.”

Brooke stands there, her lips falling into a flat line. She is taking far too long to respond for my preference. My jaw falls, eyes widening. “Stop.”

Brooke lifts her hands in surrender. “Ok, I would be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

My head falls into my hand, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose as my eyes shut. “I swear to god, why does everyone think I chose to go to UConn because of Paige?”

“Maybe because other people definitely have.” Ok, Brooke does have a point. While I have done everything in my power to not think about the blonde, everyone else has been increasingly trying to get in her orbit. I’ve even seen a handful of edits made for her in the past few months as people anticipate her first season back from her injury.

I shake my head. “I’m not that dumb. I’m here for-“

“In-state tuition and to be closer to me and your mom, I know.” Brooke finishes, coming around to wrap one arm around me. It’s her way to both apologize and check in on me. While I appreciate the gesture, a small part of me feels guilty - like I have gotten use to people extending pity to me for one reason or another: my parent’s divorce, the move to Minnesota, Paige, transferring schools. It gets to a point where I just want to win at something.

I lean into her embrace, smelling the citrus in her hair product. “I know I was down bad for a while, but I promise I’m fine.”

I feel Brooke nod above me. “Good, because she’s kinda everywhere on campus. Even if you don’t run into her, people don’t shut up about her.” This was to be expected, a fact I have been preparing myself for months for. I decided it’s just something I’m going to have to get used to, like many things in life.

“Well, why don’t we shut up about Paige and order some food. I’m starving,” I exclaim, moving towards my phone to pull up Doordash. Perhaps my first win can be proving to people that I can thrive at UConn and absolutely not fixate on Paige Bueckers. 

“Okay, okay. You good if we invite my cousin Adria to come over too? She’s chill I swear.” I remember Brooke telling me about Adria last summer, how she was entering her freshman year at `UConn at the time. I nod in agreement, excited to host my first get together in my new space. 

////

Just an hour and a half later, the three of us are sat in the sparsely furnished living room, eating pad thai surrounded by a large collection of boxes. Upon one look at Adria when she stepped through our front door, I could tell her and Brooke were related: both had the same long legs, clear deep complexion and white smiles that looked like they belonged on billboards. Where they differed was in dress: while Brooke wore the same blue sweat set that she helped me unpack in, Adria was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a boho white tank top, a cascade of black and blonde braids down her back and an “A” necklace around her neck. 

Adria is only a sophomore, and yet from the first hour I have known her she appears far more put together than I was at this time last year. It’s evident in the way she talks about her pre-professional sorority, or in the way she talks about getting ahead of internship applications for the next summer. It would almost be irritating if she wasn’t also so charming.

“So what brought you to UConn?” Adria asks me from the other end of the couch. 

“Well, I tried U of M. My dad and his new girlfri… new wife,” The correction felt bitter on my tongue in a way that made me feel guilty. “They live out there, so I got in-state. It just wasn’t for me. I decided to transfer here just in case I still want to go to law school, since my mom lives in-state and I don’t want to go further in debt than I need to.”

“What do you mean if you still want to go to law school?” Brooke questions, her face incredulous. “Wasn’t that your whole plan since you were in, like, fourth grade?”

I love Brooke with everything in me, on the deepest platonic soulmate level there is. I tell her everything - except for the fact that I don’t know if I still want to practice law outside of college. I guess if I said it out loud to her, the girl who I once dreamed of going to law school with, practicing in the same city with before opening a shared practice, it would become more real: that I was seemingly blowing up all I’ve known with no plan B. She already thinks me dropping mock trial is some sign of an incoming mental breakdown.

“I’m just… exploring all of my options.” I muster, though from the furrow in Adria’s brow it must not be as believable as I would have hoped. Judging by the way Brooke’s shoulders appeared to relax, however, it at least worked on her. Eager to switch the attention off of myself, I turn to the younger girl once more. “Adria, what are you studying?”

“I’m kinesiology, trying to become a physical therapist. Maybe do some athletic training?”

Brooke chokes back a laugh, waving her hand. “She’s just saying that because she’s fucking someone on the basketball team.”

If there’s one similarity between Adria and I, it’s the way both of our jaws drop at Brooke’s candor. Her cousin seems particularly taken off guard, throwing her hands up with a, “Jesus Christ, Brooke!”

I can’t help but laugh at the dynamic. “Who is he?”

“She’s on the women’s team.” The word she rings in my ears as my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. I’m literally a lesbian, I thought she was above assuming sexuality based on looks after having it done to me throughout the summer by daddy’s money frat guys in Stamford.  Adria scratched the back of her neck, her cheeks flushing. “Um, KK Arnold?” 

I’ve only seen the name in passing, during a late night scan of the women’s basketball roster that I would never admit to. KK was the new recruit from Wisconsin to my memory … or was it Indiana? 

“She got a job with athletics over the summer. Somehow her and KK crossed paths and they’ve been hooking up since.” Brooke took a bite of her noodles between sentences, filling in the gaps that Adria left. 

“We haven’t even had sex, chill.” Adria held a hand up to her sister, but the shy look never left her face. “KK’s nice though. I think I could really like her, which totally sucks because basketball players aren’t exactly the relationship type.”

“Looks like you both have the same type.” Brooke says through another bite.

Silence falls on the room, followed by a confused “What?” from Adria. 

A part of me wants to be frustrated with Brooke for bringing it up - the last thing I want is to be known at UConn as just a girl who got with the basketball star. However, Adria seems like a kind person, and she did just confide in me about KK. Part of me feels like I owe her an explanation in some sick way. With a sigh, I give her the context. “Brooke is giving me shit because a long time ago, in high school, I kinda had a thing with Paige Bueckers.”

The younger girl looks at me for a beat as if she can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. Once she gets a minute to reboot, she explodes “Like Paige Bueckers Paige Bueckers?Holy shit!”

“Don’t say anything, it was a really, really long time ago,” I plea, recognizing that she was acquainted to one of her teammates. Oh god, the last thing I need is KK telling Paige that her … whatever Adria was … told her that her sister’s friend is still hung up on her or something.

“I won’t, I promise.” Adria holds both hands up, a move that must be genetic. “You’re not gonna hit her up now that you’re on her campus?”

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” I say, taking a bite of my own food. I try to ignore the way my stomach flips at how Adria claimed the entirety of University of Connecticut as belonging to Paige somehow. As if there was no room for me. “She may be great at basketball, but that girl does not do emotions.”

“Well, I’m not exactly surprised.” Adria shrugs. My head snaps back up, and Brooke shoots her cousin a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

Adria continues, “I mean, its not a secret Paige kinda has a reputation here.”

So much for not fixating on Paige Bueckers. My mind races as I ask, “What kind of reputation?” although based on her tone and the context, I can make my own educated guesses. 

“She just gets with a lot of girls on campus.” Adria speaks slowly, her expression somehow guilty. “My freshman year roommates friend got with her. Said she slept with her one night and never talked to her again.”

It’s not like I had no clue that Paige had no issue moving on from me once she got to Storrs. For one, she didn’t seem to have an issue doing such a thing when we were together in the first place. She had also heard rumors through the grapevine at school during her senior year, with people saying that they knew someone whose sister was friends with someone who got with Paige or some outlandish connection like that. Hearing confirmation from someone in Storrs somehow made it more confirmed in my mind. That all Paige wants is to kiss as many girls as possible, touch as many girls as possible, fuck as many girls as possible. Maybe that’s why she started acting so cold and things fell apart. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t enough for her, I can’t help my mind from thinking bitterly. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” I force myself to breeze past the conversation, knowing that I cannot dwell on the past again. After a year or two of trying to figure out where everything went wrong, I have long since realized that there is nothing else to decode. I preferred to think of Paige as a painful memory that I’ve locked far, far away - it was just easier that way. “Who wants to watch a show?”

“You good, Maya?” Brooke asks, a small smile on her face. I know she feels guilty for bringing it up in the first place. But really, I have no reason to be mad: I was the one who ended things, and years ago at that. Being hung up over Paige Bueckers was ridiculous at this point.

“Yeah.” I answer, my voice more sharp than I intended. Fuck. Shaking my head as if to shake off any sort of doubts in their mind, I smile as I stand and walk towards the kitchen. “Believe me when I say I do not care what that girl does. She can do what she wants, and so can I. And what I want right now is to drink some prosecco and watch the Bachelorette.”

The sight of me pulling out the bottle of wine seems to strip Brooke of her doubts, because she agrees with a “Hell yeah, lets do it.”

Thankfully, once the TV is on we all settle into a groove of gossiping about strangers on our TV, not the very real people in our lives. Brooke in particular is enthralled, even though I had to beg her for weeks last summer to give the show a try. Even Adria chimes in as the two contestants cry over these men with a yell of “stand the fuck up!” I am quickly reminded in this moment that these two girls are, in fact, related. At one point in the night, Adria whips out her phone and snaps a photo of Brooke and I, grinning under a pile of throw blankets with our wine glasses in hand, an act I fail to question. After all, she had been checking her phone sporadically throughout the night.

Soon enough, we catch up on the past two episodes, our heads buzzing with the wine we consumed and our eyes struggling to stay awake as we say our goodbyes for the night. Adria pulls me into a hug, my head surrounded by the scent of her vanilla perfume as she whispers, “I’m so sorry about saying that stuff about Paige. You should know you… you absolutely did not deserve that shit, whatever she did. For the record, I think you’re awesome and that its completely her loss.”

I smile, happy to hear her words even if this is just a wine happy trail of thought. “It’s okay, Adria, I promise. It was so good to finally meet you.”

Brooke walks her out, and I can barely make it through brushing my teeth and washing my face before collapsing on my bed. The mattress is not the best quality and Amazon still says my mattress topper won’t be here for a few days, but I drift off easily, my thoughts filled with nothing except gratitude for my first night in Storrs and eager for my new start.

It’s safe to say this feeling does not extend in the morning, when I am awoken by the sun blazing through my window. My mouth is dry as I reach for my phone, eager to check the time and groaning when I see it is only 7AM. My groan is not audible for long, though, as I am quickly silenced by my most recent notification. One that has been awaiting me since 12:37AM.

Paige (DO NOT CALL): You go to UConn now???

August 26, 2023

“Go, go, go… Let’s fucking go Dorka!” I yell, watching as my old teammate scored in a game against the Liberty. It’s the Saturday night before the start of classes, and while the streets of Storrs are filled with people on their first night out of the semester, my teammates and I have all been moved into our current apartments for a little over two months. When your summer breaks are filled with workouts on campus mixed with brief vacations or visits home, that first night out doesn’t exactly carry the same novelty.

Which is why some of us were sat in Nika and Azzi’s living room, game on the TV as the two hosts prepare whatever alcoholic beverage they are subjecting us to from the kitchen separated by a counter. Three of our freshmen sit in the room with us: Ashlynn is on the floor, Ice is right above her on the couch with Aaliyah and Aubrey, and KK is next to me, typing hurriedly on her phone. Being one of the oldest players this year, I feel it’s especially important for me to get to know them - not just how they play, but who they actually are off the court.

“If UConn gets me playing like that,” Ice gestures to the TV, “I’ll know I made the right decision.”

“No turning back now.” Aubrey clapped her on the back, an over exaggerated grin on her face, which Ice responded to by shoving her off playfully. Ashlynn giggles, but doesn’t respond beyond that. It’s not abnormal for her to be quiet - what is abnormal is how silent KK is, her phone apparently more interesting than any of us. Aubrey seems to notice too, because she calls over to her.

“Hey KK, what did you think of that play?” No response. The typically extroverted girl has her chin in her hand, still staring at the screen in her other hand. Ice grabs the nearest pillow to her and throws it at the girl, prompting a jolt and a startled “What?” from KK and a “Ay, cut it out!” from Nika across the counter as she stirs a pitcher of God knows what.

“Bruh, KK, you’re not even watching,” I roll my eyes.

“Probably busy texting her girl,” Aaliyah mutters, although clearly she wasn’t trying that hard to be quiet. Hold up … her girl? Now the entire room quickly turns away from the game and to the freshman, who sits up from her slouched position with a death glare.

“I told you that in private.”

“Yo what? KK, you’ve been on campus for, like, five seconds,” Nika pops in the room.

“Clearly that’s all she needs,” Ice shrugs, earning her the same pillow thrown right back at her.

“Y’all suck,” KK slumps back into the couch, crossing her arms with a slight pout. I feel bad, wondering if we’ve been too hard on the teasing.

“Ok c’mon, we’ll stop. Let’s see her.” I gesture her to bring her phone closer to me, an act that she ignores for now.

“She’s not even my girl,” she mumbles.

“Do you want her to be?” Nika asks, eyebrows raised as she steps closer. All of us watch as KK bites her bottom lip, looking down at her sneakers. Hold on… she’s blushing. I may have only known the girl for two months, but i’ve never seen her do that before.

“Holy shit,” Nika exclaims. “KK’s a lover girl.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, just surprising is all,” Aaliyah clarifies, “not many freshmen are too into settling down.”

I notice Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey turn to face me, their stares deadpan. “What are you lookin’ at me for?” I exclaim, pointing at my chest. The heat rising to my face reveals that it’s no secret, even to me.

“What do you think?” Azzi calls from the next room. I sigh.

It’s no secret among the team (or anyone, really) that I had a pretty… entertaining first two years at UConn. Once COVID restrictions began lifting and the team was able to see other people outside of other players, some of the older players made it their mission to show the younger ones what they had been missing, one of those things being who they were missing. Honestly, it’s what I thought I needed at the time: being trapped in my dorm the majority of the time I wasn’t in practice gave me a lot of time to think, and with thinking came regret. More than once I jolted up in my bed in the middle of the night, dreams of dark hair, tanned skin, and that laugh replaying in my mind. It was torture.

Being in a different girl’s bed every weekend silenced it, just momentarily. Some people viewed me as a player who got off on getting any girl she wanted. The guilt of it finally caught up to me at the beginning of my sophomore year, when I thought about all of the girls I hurt, the ones who thought I wanted more than just one or two nights. It just reinforced my worst fear about myself: I was a womanizer who was incapable of caring about anything aside from basketball. 

“Aight aight,” I surrender, shifting my attention back to KK. “We not talking about me right now. Let’s see her.”

KK unlocked her phone, typing a username into the search bar before handing the phone off to me. Nika and Ice were quickly at my side, craning their necks to see a peek. The girl (Adria Taylor, I discover from her bio) is tall, with deep skin and long braids going down her back.

“She’s so pretty!” Nika gushes, and I would have to agree.

Ice, unable to resist the pink circle surrounding Adria’s profile photo, taps on the waiting story before KK can protest. The phone illuminates with a photo of two girls smiling on a couch, captioned “first night back” with a heart and a couple of mentions, presumably her friends handles. I don’t even need to take a look at what is written, however, because my eyes seem to have zeroed in on the girl further from the camera, and my mouth seems to go dry. It can’t be, but it is.

Because the girl in the photo is Maya. 

“Holy fuck.”

I don’t even realize I’ve said it until the three girls turn to look at me, confusion laced in their faces. “What?” Nika asks, concern evident. My heart is racing at a million miles an hour and my hands suddenly feel impossibly sweaty, but I refuse to reveal myself to them. 

I fake a cough, covering it with one hand while the other goes to scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, nothing. Thought I saw something but um,” Suddenly the sight of my lap clad in Nike tech sweats is the most interesting sight in the world. “She’s cute, KK.”

Almost like some sort of angel sent to save me, Azzi appears with a tray full of drinks that are a bright pink color and look entirely too sweet. “Drink it slowly guys, I’m not really sure I measured correctly.” She looks embarrassed at the admission, passing them around the room. Upon my first sip, I wince. Yep, definitely not too sweet. Will I still drink it? Yes. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good drink go to waste, and I now have something to run from tonight.

We continue watching the game, or at least I am. During commercials I spark conversations with anyone who will listen, including asking Ashlynn about some country concert she went to with her parents over the summer. I don’t even really listen to country, but it was nice to see the typically shy girl light up over something. Plus, it gave me an excuse not to think too hard.

Truthfully by the end of the night I was fucking hammered, not bothering to keep track of how many shots I chased down after whatever concoction Nika and Azzi made. Everyone in the room knew it too, to the point where Nika took it upon herself to walk me back to my apartment once the game ended, even though I only lived one floor down and KK and Aubrey were both still at her apartment. 

After I promised her I would chug some water before bed and take the pain reliever she laid out for me in the morning, she agreed to leave and let me go rest. I collapsed in my bed, which suddenly felt like the most comfortable place I had ever been. My brain, on the other hand, was providing anything but comfort running at around 100 miles an hour. Unable to resist, I look up Adria’s profile on my account, clicking the story. Sober me probably would have thought about how it would look if I showed up in her profile views, but drunk me clearly didn’t care enough. 

Sure enough, she’s sat there with a glass of wine in her hands. My heart jumps as I realize that she’s still just as beautiful as she was when I first met her, just more grown up this time. Her face is all defined cheekbones, glistening eyes, and a smile - God, that smile, that never failed to brighten my day if it was directed at me. It’s been a while since I’ve glanced at her profile - though we still follow each other, she barely ever posts and I don’t remember the last time she’s interacted with anything I’ve posted. Viewing her profile is reserved for nights where I’m filled with just enough delusion to convince myself it’s a good idea. Nope, never is. 

The girl next to her (Brooke, I assume from the tag) is leaning into her slightly in a way that makes my stomach flip. She’s not entirely unfamiliar to me - I’ve definitely seen her in a photo dump by Maya last summer. A part of me wonders if that’s the next girl that gets to treat her the way I should have. What if she came to UConn for her, I think. Nope. Can’t do that. Maya hasn’t been mine, not for a while.

The urge to reach out has died down through the years, going from entirely unbearable at times to more of a constant dull itch that I feel as though I can’t ever scratch. Her texting me after my ACL tear last summer provided temporary relief. I mean, it had to say something that she cared enough to show that she cared. A person that hates me wouldn’t do that.

But then, she never responded to my reply. A person that hates me would do that.

So yeah, there is nothing I want more in this world than to text Maya one last time, just to tell her I’m sorry. That I still think about the way I treated her, and how I’ve been too afraid to be with another girl since I’m worried I’ll do the same thing. That I know I don’t deserve her, not even platonically, but feelings aside I miss being around her. I wish we could be friends again, or acquaintances who occasionally text each other on birthdays and holidays, or something. At the very least, I want her to know I’m sorry.

But beyond everything, I want her to be happy. And if me not talking to her makes her happy, as stated the last time I saw her physically where she stated she “just needed time”, I was willing to suffer through that.

Somehow knowing she could be anywhere right now, even just a short walk away, made the suffering unbearable right now, in a way that I hadn’t felt since freshman year. 

Blame it on the alcohol, or the picture, or whatever you like. Doesn’t change the fact that I opened my contacts in search for one particular one. Doesn’t change the five word text I sent that took an embarrassingly long time to think of. And it doesn’t change how my fingers pressed send before any other doubts could enter my brain. Putting my phone on do not disturb, I plug it in and turn off my lights, deciding that chugging water can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need to sleep off everything I’ve seen tonight and the memory of what I just did. 

[ziminy]

Nightshift rewritten pt.2

How's life with Gojo and Geto as your roommates

Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, f!reader, roommates, college au, making out, almost got caught, humping, fingering, jealousy, delusion (lots of it), pet names, marking, threesome, oral(m and f receiving), something something in the shower, something something on the couch, edging, not so friendly competition, the reader is more on the introverted side,

Author's note: I caught a cold (⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)

Pt1 Pt3 masterlist roommates masterlist

You woke up in your bed all alone. A random shirt from your closet on you, and the feeling of loneliness and guilt hit you. For some reasons, you felt like the player in this situation.

Were you wrong to say you only wanted to see if your roommates were as good as people say? Because even now, after you woke up with a clear mind you only could think about Suguru's body, but nothing more.

No romantic feelings, you didn't felt like asking him on a date. You didn't even cared about how he was, because everything was clear the moment he left your room.

You weren't that different from them after all, just the way they play with people's feelings so are you with theirs. You weren't doing it intentionally or to take revenge on them, you simply just couldn't see yourself in a relationship at the moment, knowing your current situation.

But you still feel guilty, for using the dark haired man for some stress relief. Even if it was mutual, you still have a heart and you understand emotions. You had to talk to him at least, make sure nothing changes. So you got out your room, head empty as your brain simply just didn't want to work, still thinking about what happened last night.

You went to the kitchen, still not being able to process what's happening around you, but somehow knowing exactly what you're looking for. And you found him, sitting peacefully at the dining table, enjoying a cup of coffee and scrolling on his phone.

As much as you're trying not to think about it, you couldn't help but want him a little more. What happened yesterday wasn't enough, for you at least since you had no idea what he was feeling like.

There were marks on his neck, and if you're being honest, you had no idea you left any to begin with. His messy hair that looked like you just finished fucking. It didn't look like you two parted ways long hours ago.

He took his eyes away from his screen for a moment, taking a sip from his cup and then moving his eyes away from you back to his phone. He opened his mouth, closed it and then open it once again, not sure of what to do or say. He was acting like he never went through this, even if it happened countless of times for him already. "Morning." he said after a while, too anxious at the way you stared at him, not doing a move.

"Yeah." you nodded, getting close to the table and sitting the opposite of him, far away from your usual spot.

"I didn't think you'll be up this early." he tried to avoid your eyes, too embarrassed to face you.

"I couldn't sleep." while he was agitated your voice was completely cold. No expression on your face as you kept looking at him shamelessly.

"I see." he took another sip of his coffee, turning to the side and trying to think of an excuse to get out of there or else he'll fuck up. "Well, I'll go now." he tried to run.

"I want to talk to you." it can wait. Right now he doesn't have an explanation for what happened last night.

"Let's talk later." he really had to go.

"No, let's talk now." you grabbed him by the side of his shirt when he walked past you, stopping him in place so you could have a better look at him. "About last night-"

"This isn't the right time." he tried to brush your hand off.

"No, listen-" he was so stubborn.

"I'll text you when I'm ready." he would not.

"Suguru, what are we?" he froze at that question. He was afraid of those same exact words. "Because I don't want us to be anything." huh? That made his eye twitch.

"What do you mean by that?" he finally stopped running, turning around to face you, looking down at you who was still sitting down just as expressionless as before.

"Can we stay the way it was before?" absolutely the fuck not. "I'm not ready for anything at the moment." and that means he is? I mean, you spoke the same exact words he was thinking about, but how dare you not ask for anything from him in return? He would have indulge you and took you out on a few dates if you asked him to. He was running away earlier because he didn't thought he was that ready to commit himself to you, you had to give him a few days to think of all the possibilities, of how far in life can you two make. The dating life, the wedding, how many kids you'll have and how your house would look like. But this was genuinely ridiculous, you didn't even let him have some time to think about it.

"Then?" he asked, still waiting for you to explain yourself and your poorly choice of words.

"I don't know." you shrugged, making him even angrier at you. "I'm happy with myself, you seem to be doing the same. I don't see why we should be together." this was worse than a circus, this kind of buffoonery was something he never seen before and it's getting on his nerves. So what if he seems like he's doing good, that doesn't means that you can just cockblock him like that.

"What if I don't want to?" you shrugged again, not being able to think of anything.

"What do you want to do then?" this situation was going to total opposite. You were supposed to ask him out, like the majority of people that dragged him into their beds, he was supposed to say no. But this time he was going to appear a few days later and take you out on a white horse. You were supposed to make him realize that he was a dumbass, that he can't live like this forever and try to change himself.

I mean, he knows girls like you. The quiet type, the weirdly attractive that always keeps to themselves around people they don't know. And he heard about the magic your people had, the way it can swipe anyone off their feet and settle them for life. He prepared for this, he was ready to commit to a single person, worship you like he never had anyone in his life. He was ready to mold your body to fit him perfectly. And yet you decided to destroy all his dreams. "I don't want anything either." he was so bitter about this. He can't believe he's lying not only to you but to himself, he can't even find an excuse for his words.

"Do we stay the way we used to?" he shook his head, not wanting to open his mouth anymore. "Then?" he moved his hands towards you, grabbing you by your sides and lifting you up to place you on the table.

He pressed his body against yours, his crotch right into yours and hoping that you could at least get an idea of what's going on in his head. "Do we have to pretend that nothing happened?" he spoke quietly, his breath hitting your skin and it only left chills down your spine. "We can do it as many times as we want and nothing will change if you don't want to."

"What about you then? Do you want something to change?" he didn't dare to answer your question, knowing it might affect what you're going to say next.

"You're overthinking." for a moment you thought that something was going to happen, looking at the way he tried to avoid eye contact, holding back something you had no idea what it was. Only to disappoint you in the end. Yeah, maybe you're overthinking, like you always did. Perhaps you were the only one with big feelings in here and he just opened your eyes. Then you can keep doing this without feeling guilty about his feelings. Somehow, you feel more at ease. He just wanted to feel something, and so did you. So why were you hoping for him to say something more, anything rather than that.

"Kiss me." you said, trying to see if this was really all in your head and perhaps he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You didn't know what to expect, because the next moment you said that, his lips were on yours. His weight being pressed against your body, grinding against you as the kiss got too deep for anyone's liking. But you didn't complained. Closing your eyes and dragging him closer, hoping this time you'll actually get to feel more. His hands under your shirt, lifting it up and exposing more of your body. You moaned quietly when he started to play with your breasts, giving him a soft look that made his cock throb in his pants.

Fuck it, he'll just do it. He broke the kiss for a moment, hands going to his pants to free himself, and at the same time tugging at yours too. This wasn't the way he wanted to do it, a quicky that didn't let him have more time to explore you, but he couldn't complain when you didn't complained.

You looked at him, at the expression he had on his face and at how he was biting his lip a bit too hard. You opened your mouth, wanting to tease him a little but your words got stuck in your throat when you heard the front door opening, following by the sounds of some shoes hitting the ground and some bags being moved around.

Panick was written all over your face, and as much as Suguru was annoyed, he knew exactly what to do in that situation.

He lifted you up from the table, getting your clothes in place and fixing your hair. Then tried to fix his clothes a bit too, not too much or it would become suspicious. He sat back down on his chair, his phone in one hand while his coffee in the other, making it look like it was just another morning, even if his heart was beating so hard he could barely keep his composure.

"Eh? You're up? But I wanted to surprise you guys." Gojo's voice could be heard from the door behind you, and you didn't dared to turn around and look. "Suguru, what happened to you?" he said, noticing the way his friend was sweating and his hair all over the place.

"Slept badly last night." the dark haired man said, avoiding eye contact and taking a sip of his coffee.

"You look just as bad as him. You're alright?" the white haired man said when he got next to you, looking at how your eyebrows furrowed, and something in your eyes that looked like you just got scared to death.

"Couldn't sleep." you looked down, trying to forget about what just happened.

"It's because I wasn't here, was it?" Satoru seemed way too happy with this. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving any time soon." and that's exactly what Suguru was afraid of. "Anyway, here's what I got from home." he placed some bags with food on the table.

For the next few days both you and Geto were cockblocked by the white haired man. Every time you got a bit of alone time, he had to appear out of nowhere and made sure to sit between you two. He didn't let you get close, always making sure to sit next to you and slap Suguru's hand away if he tried to make a move. I mean, since when does he have the balls? And how dare he try to get close to you? Not when Gojo is there. Absolutely not, it was out of question.

Maybe it was the jealousy, and it really didn't helped that you looked so friendly to each other after just a day. No because, he needs to know what that guy did. How did he got you to come running to him?

The way Gojo stared at you was obviously, so obvious that it made you put questions. Did you had something on your face? Was your hair alright? Or.. did he knew? You always panicked at the thought of him knowing what you did. And he noticed it right away. How you frown, giving him a quick look and then look away, looking at him again only to run from there in the end.

Did Suguru told you something while he was away? Did he told you something embarrassing about him and now you're avoiding him? I mean, you can't really call it avoiding when you act the same as before around him.

Was it the fact that he was seeing himself in Geto's position that made him a bit delusional? Because he was doing it before but now it got worse.

It was clearly your fault, no matter how much he thinks about it, it's definitely you who is the problem. Why would you show him that you could make that barrier that you put between them disappear? Now that he knows you can open up he kept thinking about it.

"I won't be back today." it was around 6 in the afternoon when Suguru sent something in the group chat.

"Have fun." you texted, going back on doing whatever you were doing before.

"Wanna watch a movie?" you got another text, this time from Gojo in private. Well, last time you watch a movie you ended up with someone in your bed. But you wouldn't say no since you're bored anyway. "Come in the living room." he texted again, like he knew you'd say yes.

You don't have anything better to do anyway. And it's not like you'd end up in the same situation again, right? I mean, it would be ridiculous for it to happen two times in a row. Right?

Damn. You should have kept your mouth shut.

You can't even remember how you ended up bend over Satoru's lap, and his long fingers bullying their way inside your pussy. A movie he said, whatever you'd watch a movie or make one to watch it later he didn't specify.

You can't even look at him in the eyes, you gave up too easily. The moment he called your name, in a much lower tone than his usual colorful one, was the end of you. His eyes made you weak in the knees, and it didn't took long for things to escalate.

"I actually wanted to see this movie for quite a while now." he said, not even paying attention to the tv. His eyes were on your back, looking at the shirt that you still had on. He wanted to take it off, to see everything he wouldn't usually see. All your hidden self, your soft skin that he wanted to touch and bite into.

"Wait." you cried when he started to curl his fingers a bit too hard against a spot that felt way too good than you'd like. Gripping the cushion underneath you, and wanting to sink your teeth into something.

But before you could do anything else, he took his hand away from you, leaving you all empty and whining mess. "Don't you want to feel good? I could give you something much better." with tears in your eyes, you looked at him. If he knew what you wanted why was he like this?

He took your shirt off, now sitting all naked on his lap. You looked at him freeing his cock from his pants. He was big, and you're afraid you might not be able to take him. But you're determinated, and you won't leave this room until you get a taste of that dick.

"Easy now." he said, one of his hands on your back as you tried to get him inside of you. "Don't force yourself." you're the one who should decide that.

He's doing this totally wrong. You want to hear encouragements, him praising you for doing so good for him. You want him, you want his hands all over you, to feel him in places no one touched until now. So how dare he hold back right now?

Look at him, his hands on the couch, right next to your bodies and not daring to get anywhere near you. His back resting against the couch, leaning into it so he could give you space, when you clearly didn't want that.

"Touch me." you didn't even realized you said that out loud until he started laughing.

You got the tip of his cock inside, letting out a small noise and looking at him. You were really trying your best, but this was too much. You didn't expect to be stretched out like that. "Told you to take it easy." you wanted to bite him. He wasn't being useful at all.

You kept getting more of his cock inside of you, sinking your hips into his until he got all the way in, touching that one spot deep inside you. You did it, you actually did it. Well, it hurts a little but it's nothing that you can't handle it.

Holding onto his shoulders, you moved slowly, taking a few seconds to yourself every time you raised your hips, taking a small break before you got him all the way in again. It wasn't much, but it was honest work, and you're happy with your progress.

What made you work even harder was his moans. The way he was still holding himself back and moaning quietly, making your inside clenched, squeezing him and making him let out a louder moan. You're going to bully him, you're this close on pushing him down and trying even harder than before.

Can't he see you're willing to work yourself over the top for him? He could request something out of pocket and you'd do it in a heartbeat.

You took one of his hands and placed it on your side, making him to finally look at you. He did got the hint, but he still didn't dared to help you in any way, fearing he might do something he'll regret later.

But he's willing to try at least. He placed his other hand on one of your boobs, playing with your nipple and kissing your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving red marks behind him.

He wanted to do a lot more, he really does, but he's so afraid of being too rough on you. If he hurts you in any way he won't be able to forgive himself. Even so, if you keep being this delicious he might actually forget about all his morals.

"Tell me what you want me to do." he said out of breath. "I'll do it."

"Touch me more." he let out a moan. "Like you mean it." but he meant everything that he did until now. What more do you want from him?

"Something else." his words were driving you crazy.

"Kiss me." say less. He smashed his lips against yours, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. It was like he was trying to eat you, dragging your body closer to his unconsciously and trying to deeper the kiss. Your chest pressed against his, and it made him realized that he still had his clothes on him.

"Wait a moment." he interrupted the kiss, parting ways with you for a moment to take off his shirt. He's not going to miss the chance to have your body right against his because of some clothes standing in the way.

He pressed his lips against yours again, a hand on your back and leaning in towards you, making you lose a bit of your balance. Now he was in control and he didn't even realized it. In fact, I don't think any of you realized that he started to move you on him. Faster moves, out of pace and no certain direction where it was going. Everything was way too sloppy now.

But his kisses got better. His tongue in your mouth and looking for yours as he kept guiding your body on his. "Fuck." he cursed, moaning your name in your mouth as he started to move his own hips forward.

"Toru." you tried to say something, to let him know about how close you were.

"I know baby, I know." it's alright, he was there. He wasn't going to leave you alone through this one. He feels the same way as you, and he was trying so hard to cum at the same time as you. I mean, if you do, doesn't that means you have a different type of connection? It's like you're meant for each other.

His delusions didn't helped him, seeing you cum made him desperate for his high too. Mostly to show you that you're not the only one who's struggling.

He was putting quite a show for you, wasn't he? From the expression he had to the way he was a moaning mess. It never failed to make your stomach turn upside down, clenching around him and making the grip on you tighter than before, not letting you go until he finally came.

You just stood there, enjoying the warmth your bodies gave to one another. His nose pressed against your neck, bathing in your scent, relaxing at the way you played with his hair. He could stay inside you forever, your pussy was feeling way too good for him to just pull out.

But then it hit him. He was being an idiot, he was showing you his weak side, that he too was like everyone else even if he always played high and mighty.

He couldn't do it like this. No matter how much he likes you, he can't show any signs of weakness.

So, he got you off him, dressing you back into your clothes and getting you to your room and making sure you're comfortable, before he too did the walk of shame back to his bedroom.

The next day he didn't want to get out of bed, too tired after what happened yesterday. But he was forced to wake up by someone knocking at his door.

And there you were, looking up at him with big doe eyes and making him feel like he wasn't that tired anymore. "Can we talk?" you asked in a sweet voice, making him gulp and grip the door way too hard.

"Sure." he couldn't even hear himself. "What happened?" he couldn't think of a single thing besides bending you over the closest thing in that room.

"About yesterday." don't even get him started. "Can we stay the same as before?"

"No." you must be insane for asking him that in the first place. "Absolutely not."

"Then? I don't want to get in a relationship." I mean, he did liked you, more than he likes to admit. But that didn't necessarily means he wanted to be in a relationship either. He wanted to parade you for the world to see you're his, but the thought of actually putting in effort turned him off. It might have been because of all the people that chased after him, that and his unsolved issues. He can't be with someone until he put his thoughts in place, and knowing him, it would take a long time before he could finally settle down.

"Does it matter what we are?" he might be right. "As long as we both want it, does it really matter if it's a relationship or not?" guess not.

"Then let's stay the same as before." he shook his head. "You're sure you want to keep doing this then? I don't want any unnecessary feelings." well said.

He dragged you in his room, not even closing the door as he pinned you to the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck.

"We can keep doing this for as much as we want. Who is going to stop us?" he said before pressing his lips against yours.

How cute of you to come to him first thing in the morning. It's like you knew he was missing you. Well, since you're being so thoughtful of him, he might as well give you a reward.

But when he thought things couldn't get any better, someone just opened the front door. Getting inside and letting everyone know he's there. "I'm back." Suguru's voice could be heard from outside the room.

Gojo didn't want to let go of you just yet, still kissing you, pressing you against the wall harder while aiming for the door to close it, even lock it if he had enough patience.

"No." you said quietly, trying to not let out any weird sounds.

"It would be fast." the white haired man tried to convince you, but he was being welcomed with the same answer.

This was so annoying, his morning was ruined when it just started to get good. He couldn't let go of you just like that, so, he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a big hickey before biting your lip. Finally letting you go.

They're crazy, your roommates are insane. They're mad men, not a single normal thought going through their heads. But perhaps that's what you like about them, the fact that with them nothing goes as planned. A simple conversation can go in so many ways, a wrong move, word or just a look from you and everything does down the water.

But somehow, everything was peaceful for a few days. Or more like, your housemates tried to keep it low-key since neither of them knew about what happened when you were alone with the other.

So now it was just then trying to get your attention, but quietly, not wanting to attract attention.

That of course didn't lasted for long. It was tiring, this hide and seek that lent to nowhere. You knew it too, but you still didn't expect your life to be disturbed again so soon.

It was another day just like the other, well, perhaps not. But it was a day where you could relax since you were home alone.

You got out your room, sneaking into the living room and jumping on the couch, turning on the tv and playing a show you just discovered.

Everything was supposed to be normal, to go back to how it was when you moved in. They were supposed to give you space and ignore each other like before. But to your surprise, it didn't happen. The moment one of them got home, he went specifically to you.

"You're back?" you asked, looking at Suguru who looked like he got caught in the rain. All he did was to groan, leaving whatever he had in his arms on the floor in the middle of the room and throwing himself next to you. "Go change, you're gonna catch a cold." he didn't wanted to get up, the couch was feeling way too good.

"Is Satoru back?" he watched you shake your head before he finally got up, leaving the room and coming back later with some freshly washed clothes on him. "Lay down." he said, looking at you who didn't seemed to pay attention to him or what he's saying.

Perhaps the fact that you were focused on the show was a good thing, because you did as he said without a single complain. So he sat back next to you, this time laying down in your arms. "Eh? What are you doing?" you finally realized what's going on.

"I'm tired." he had his face buried in your neck, his back to the tv since he wasn't interested in watching anything at the moment.

"We can cuddle another time." this wasn't the space, especially since you never know with who you might wake up.

He didn't cared. If he keeps running from this then it would take him nowhere. So what if that guy sees him? It would change nothing. Plus he's showing how great your relationship with his was, no? And nothing feels better than the warmth your body gives and his friend being jealous.

His hands went under your shirt, wanting to feel more of your skin. It was so cold outside, and your temperature was leading him in. He loved it so much that he didn't even realized when he got his head under your shirt, his head against your chest as he was listening to your heart beat.

"Get out of there." you slapped his back softly, making him to bite one of your boobs in response. This was a rare occasion, like heck he'll let you alone. The marks he left are long gone too, so he had to leave some behind. I mean, what if you miss him while he's away?

He sink his teeth into your skin, making you gasp. He sucked and liked at every single empty spot he found. That way you'll still have a part of him no matter where he is.

"I'm home." a voice could be heard from the hallway and you feared you knew exactly who it was.

How could you have been so stupid, fucking with both of them and not letting a single soul know. Look in what situation you got yourself in now.

"Suguru, come on." your words went to deaf ears. You can't do anything more than cry since you have nowhere to hide.

"Who left the tv on?" Satoru's voice could be heard from the behind the couch. Guess that was it, you might as well look for a new place at this point.

But to your surprise, the white haired man didn't said a thing. He looked down at you, at the expression you had, the pout on your face and at how you were trying to hide your face behind your hands. It took him a moment to realize what was actually going on.

He was late, he was painfully late and now he couldn't do anything about it.

He must do something about it or the dark haired man will beat him. And he couldn't stand the fact that someone else was in front of him, he had to be number one.

Satoru moved your hands away, leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. He too could play this game. So you better prepare yourself because neither of them will take it easy from now on.

Fuck your life. Your doomed, flabbergasted, absolutely bamboozled. From the moment you stepped a foot out your room both of them were trying to get you in a way or another. And now they were fighting for you attention.

"Come here." the white haired man said, looking at you who just got into the kitchen.

"Y/N." the other said your name, signaling you to go to him instead.

But you were smart, you knew you shouldn't start a storm. So you walked out of there and back into your room, ignoring the two guys that seemed to add fuel into the fire.

If you don't want to get out, then they'll come to you. And that night you woke up with both of them in your bed.

First it was Gojo who came around 11, getting under your blanket quickly and dragging you into his arms so you wouldn't run away. He wanted to cuddle too, and your bed seemed so welcoming. Your room in general looked much friendly than his. Was it the sweet scent that he kept getting hit with every time he opened your door? Or the fact that you were living in there? He can't really answer for sure but he just liked your bedroom more.

And then Geto made his presence when you were almost asleep. Getting into the unoccupied side of the bed and wrapping his hands around you.

The next morning wasn't anything better.

A pair of muscular arms on you, not allowing you to move an inch. All you could see was some white hair coming from under the blanket, and you knew exactly who it was since he had his face into your chest, hands under your shirt and dragging your lower body away from the one behind you.

What a way to start your day. But for a moment you allowed yourself to get distracted and enjoy their presence, how their bodies felt against yours.

With your nose into Gojo's hair, you took a deep breath. He smells nice, a bit familiar too but maybe it was because of how much time you spent with them lately. But then it hit you, he was using your products. You turned your face away, taking a stiff of Geto only for him to smell the exact same. You gasped at the realization.

"What?" the dark haired man said amused. He was clearly thinking of something else, since you could feel his cock pressed against your back.

"Are you using my shampoo?" well damn. It's too early to respond to that. He can't think of excuses this early in the morning.

"Mmm." Gojo wrapped his arms around you harder, rubbing his face against you and trying to ignore the voices he kept hearing.

"Who knows." Suguru couldn't give you an answer even if he wanted to.

"Satoru is using it too." you pointed out, making the man in your arms to look up at you still half asleep.

"What about me." the white haired man could only hear the part where you said his name.

"Is that why I have almost nothing left in the bottles?" why did you wanted to argue at this time of the day was a mystery. If you didn't want them to use it then you shouldn't had left them in the bathroom.

It wasn't the time to fight, especially when you were finally started to get along. I mean, look, all three of you enjoying the peace and quiet. Can you blame Suguru when he took the initiative and stopped a potential threat to this serenity? So what if he kissed you, a bit too sloppy for his style, but he's not really awaken at the moment, his mind is still a blur. An arm under your head, keeping your face pushed towards him while the other was slowly making it's way under your shirt.

Satoru only noticed the hand that was trying to get in his territory, and he slapped it away only for Suguru to try again. The white haired man got his head out the blanket, annoyed and wanting to tell his friend to stay in his place before he realized what happened.

So here he was, taking your pants off along side your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. Now making his way in between your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

You couldn't even say a thing, and even if you tried you were stopped by Suguru who seemed to finally waken up. His tongue in your mouth and kissing you in a way that made your head spinning.

"Look how wet you are." Satoru said, slapping your pussy softly and laughing at the way you looked even angrier than before. He placed a kiss on your inner thigh, moving his lips to your wet core and giving your clit a quick kiss before he started eating you out.

Honestly, what was wrong with them. I mean, you knew they weren't normal. But couldn't they at least try? Why go through this much trouble? You'll get mad at them either way after this.

Just because you're moaning doesn't mean you forgive them. However, it got to their heads. Which one? Who knows. It's not like they were thinking clearly before either. So what would make a difference now?

The fact that you were mad at them to begin with was more than a valid reason to touch you. I mean, how could they let you start your day like this? You shouldn't be in a bad mood. And they're trying to make it better, to show you how sorry they are. That if you ignore the grin on their faces.

"Don't look at him." Suguru whispered in your ear, lifting your shirt up so he could see your body better. He gets jealous if you don't give him attention.

"No, Y/N." Gojo took his mouth away from your pussy for a moment, licking his lips and pushing two of his fingers inside of you. "Don't I make you feel good?" you always get flustered whenever he looked at you.

"I would have done it myself if you didn't got in the way." Geto rolled his eyes, annoyed at the fact that you were looking at someone else.

"I can't hear you." the white haired man was enjoying this way too much. "Pussy tastes too good." he said, wrapping his lips around your clit, giving you all his attention once again.

"You like me more, you heard me." Suguru kissed you again, pressing his body against yours, wanting to snatch you away, all to himself. Maybe it was his fault that he didn't thought about this before hand.

But he can't really blame it when you look this cute. Just look at you, closing your eyes every time it got too good and leaving soft sounds out that didn't got too far since they were muffled by him. Of course he couldn't help but kiss you, that way you'd give something to him too.

And the way you grab at his shirt? Or how one of your hands went through Satoru's hair, tugging at it lightly as you looked like you were close. So close it took everything in both of them to restrain themselves.

But when you did came, it was like something switch inside of them. Look at Gojo who was getting up, getting his cock out his pants, and Geto who placed one of your hands over his crotch, later on trying to get it in his pants.

"So why are you using my shampoo?" you said, not letting them do another move.

"We can talk about this later." the white haired man really didn't wanted to talk about that, in fact, he couldn't think of anything else besides getting inside your pussy faster.

"No." you slapped their hands away, getting up the bed. "You always do this." you fixed your shirt, getting your pants back on. "I thought I was going insane, I even started to use less thinking that I might be the problem." you walked to the door. "If I let you off this time then you'll do it again." you went out the room, closing the door behind you and leaving your housemates there. But then it hit you, that was your room. So where were you going? You went back, opening the door and looking as angry as before. "This is my room, so get out."

"I can buy you more if you-" you didn't even let Satoru finish his sentence.

"It's not about that."

"You can use mine too, if that's the problem." why would you listen to the guy who buys the cheapest things he finds and call it a day? The only thing you liked about your roommates was their cologne, which had a cool fresh scent. And now that you think about it, they don't smell like they used to anymore. You sniffed your hand, only to get even angrier than before. They smell like you now.

"Get out." you won't let them slide this time.

From that moment on, they tried to make it up to you. Being extra extra sweet to you, not letting you lift a finger around the house or even think about doing something. If you knew they would be like this you would have gotten mad at them a long time ago.

The space they give you now is so refreshing, like you can finally breath. But what did you expect in a house full of madness.

Maybe it was your fault too, for letting your guard down and not checking that door twice.

You went into the bathroom when no one was home, wanting to take a long bath and enjoy the new products you just bought. You thought you locked the door, you swore you did. But somehow you ended up with an uninvited guest in there. You didn't even noticed the dark haired man until he got in the shower, scaring you when his hands made contact with your skin.

"Suguru? What are you doing here?" you tried to turn around but he kep you in place, getting his body closer to yours, his chest pressed against your back.

"You weren't in your room." you're rarely out the house, so it wasn't hard to find you.

"I thought you won't be back until later." he seemed to enjoy catching you off guard.

"Didn't feel like going out today." he extended a hand, trying to grab one of your freshly bought bottles only for you to slap it away. "Let me wash your hair." and give him a free pass on using your products again? Nope. But he seemed to know what you're thinking of, and it made him try again. "I'll behave." like heck he would.

Perhaps he could win your thrust again by doing something else. Convincing you to let him do it wasn't that hard at all. A few words whispered in your ear, even letting out a moan as he tried to 'explain' how much he craved for you lately. You'll let him have a taste of you, right?

And that's how he ended up with his head between your legs, eating you out like no one did before, letting out his frustration on you for all the things you did for the past few days.

Your sounds muffled by the running water, but even so, it made him try harder. Make you louder so he could hear you better.

He sucked, licked and then licked again on your clit, arms wrapped around you to keep you in place, dragging you back to him when you tried to get away. And all that work for what? Because he didn't even let you cum, letting go of you when you were so so close, turning you over, now facing the wall as he slowly got his cock inside of you.

"Hold still." he whispered in your ear, finally pushing his dick all the way in.

"It's slippery." you had nothing to hold onto, one wrong move and you're afraid you'll end up on the ground.

"Hold onto me." he finally started moving his hips, a slow movement at first. Enjoying the fact that he finally had you all to himself. One of his arms wrapped around you while the other was pressed against the wall, turning your face towards him so he could kiss you. It was nothing too wild, just the fact that you were alone was more than enough for the moment. But a few moments later, he felt this chill down his spine. Perhaps he left the door open, I mean, he did got into the bathroom without a single thought in his head, hurried to take his clothes off so he could join you. Even so, it made him fuck into you harder, holding you tighter in his arms and trying to forget about this unsettling feeling.

He in fact did left the door open, and you woke up with another uninvited guest in the bathroom.

"Make some space for me." the shower doors suddenly open, revealing Satoru who seemed happy with the on going event. "Don't be so greedy, Suguru." he laughed at the man who was glaring at him. "Give me some attention too, or I'll get sad." his hands were on you, turning you towards him while the dark haired man was still fucking you from behind. "Kiss me too, didn't you missed me?" he laughed as he kissed you. One of your hands was in Gojo's, wrapped around his aching cock and slowly jerking it.

You weren't left alone even for a moment. One fucking into you a bit too hard than you'd like in that moment, while the other seemed to want the same amount of attention. Both of them dragging you towards them, wanting to yank you away from the other.

Hands all over your body, and you didn't really know how to react. This was too much, even for them. This endless jealousy that took nowhere, especially when you didn't complained about it.

You didn't said a thing, did you? So you were alright with having both of them at the same time? Because if you keep being this submissive then they might get the wrong idea. But it was too later because they already figured something out, it was like it was telepathically. Just a quick look at and it was like they knew what the other was thinking.

Right, why fighting when they could work together? Give you something so good you won't be able to look at another man. Two was better than one after all.

With a quick movement, Suguru got out of you, a quick slap on your ass as he turned you around, to face him. Your back pressed against Satoru's chest as the dark haired man lowered his head to kiss you.

Gojo's lips were on your shoulder, a hand going down your body to your pussy and rubbing your clit.

You were sandwiched between them, you couldn't do a single move while they seemed to enjoy playing with you. Touching and groping you all over the place, kisses and marks left behind their hot touch as they keep exploring your body. They kept turning you around and placing you in a new position every time you were about to cum, edging you for what seemed like an eternity.

After torturing you for so long, someone finally opened the shower's doors, dragging you out of it and into the cold bathroom.

But somehow, they acted like nothing happened, softly wiping your body and getting you dry, wrapping a towel around you and then guiding you to another place inside the house.

And you ended up laying down on the couch all naked once again, with Gojo between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance while Suguru was right next to your head. You never really thought about it before, but you have absolutely no idea if you could take both of them, at the same time too. The idea was a bit scary, and yet it was happening at the moment.

You gulped, looking at the dark haired man, trying to tell him to take it easy. But he didn't wanted to do that.

Just from the way you look at him he haves the impression that you wanted him, like, really bad. And he could never say no to a pretty girl, especially you. I mean, if you wanted him, how could he say no?

"Look at me too." the white haired man didn't looked happy at the way you and his friend looked at each other.

"Don't you dare." Geto grabbed your face, pushing your cheeks together and making you look at him.

"But Y/N." Satoru said, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. "Don't you wanna see how you're taking me in?" he whined, making your eyebrows furrowed.

"She's busy with me. Can't you see?" the dark haired man got his dick right into your face without a warning, pushing the head past your lips and into your hot mouth, letting out a groan as he got moved his hips deeper.

"Don't I make you feel better?" Gojo said as he kept fucking into you, his thimb on your clit, rubbing it in an irregular motion. His words made Suguru to run a hand through your hair, grabbing it as he tried to move faster into your mouth, not wanting any of your moans out. Just the sounds you make as he kept fucking into your throat were more than enough, plus, he doesn't think he'll be able to keep it together if you do let out a moan, especially for that guy. "He's so mean, isn't he, baby?" the white haired man's words keep getting on Geto's nervers. Can you believe this fucker? Trying to talk to you when he's known for being silent in moments like this.

But perhaps Suguru had to step up his game too. What if this buffoon succeed on fooling you? So he let go of your hair, trying to change his strategy. "Let's change positions." he said as he got his dick out your mouth.

"Don't want to." the white haired man said, wrapping his hands around your thighs and dragging you closer to him.

"What do you say, baby?" Gojo gasped, he can't believe this guy is really trying to pull the same moves as him. "Don't you want to make me feel good too, hm?" there were too many eyes on you, and you couldn't be more embarrassed in the current situation.

"Alright." you didn't dared not to agree with them, because in the end you'll end up the one being fucked in there, and who knows what kind of plot they might be planning.

You ended up being flipped over, your ass in the air, and with your face right into Suguru's crotch.

You're being filled to the max, one in your mouth while the other fucks you from behind. There's no room left, and even if it was, you don't think you could take more than this.

"Come on, Y/N." the dark haired man moaned your name, a hand resting on your head as he was waiting for your reaction. The way you look at him was too cute, always trying harder to suck him off every time he lets out a moan or a prise. Aren't you being adorable?

"Baby." Satoru also let out a moan, a hand placed over your back, caressing your skin and making you clench around him. "I'm gonna cum. Cum with me?" he was usually not like this, but for you he decided to he a whining mess.

"Look at me." this was going nowhere again. But you were also desperate, so you can't really blame anybody. Plus, you kinda wanted them to fill you. No, you did wanted them to come all over you, fill you up so good that you'll still feel them even when they're not inside.

You were just as greedy as them. Trying to hold their hands as you came, and refusing to let go even after your high.

Sigh, well, this was about to be a long day.

Tagging:

@moonlight-pearls

[11luckyst4r]

☆3 MONTHS☆

- you decided to swear off sex for 3 months to prove your friend wrong. How hard can it be, right? You wouldn't ever dream of sleeping with your new roommate, satoru gojo, yet she thinks you can't do it.

content: dirty talk, petnames (sweets, princess etc) ,degradation (slut etc),unprotected sex ,creampie, uhhh what else, reader is kind of a slut.(real shit) smut with sprinkles of a plot. Reader is stubborn (me) idk what else

first fic kinda nervous

You wondered how you ended up in this predicament. You didn't plan on swearing off sex for 3 months. But your best friend joked you'd end up fucking your roommate Satoru Gojo. He wasn't even your type. " Gojo is a cocky know-it all and I wouldn't sleep with him" Your friend cackled " Babes i love you but you tend to think with your dick when you're horny."

You were utterly shocked at that. While 7 did tend to sleep with guys and girls often, you wouldn't sleep with your roommate. Especially Gojo of all people, his friend Geto, though was another thing.

"University is the place for fun, besides I have to have fun now. When I go to med school it's books and studying and I won't have time for fun." You said matter of factly. That's when you made the personal promise to be celibate for 3 months to prove your best friend wrong. What you didn't count on , was how pent up you'd become.

3 weeks in you felt fine, but you noticed gojo staring at your chest all too often. That was after he walked in on you in the bathroom. Without a top on. Shaving your armpits in the sink. You thought that gave him the ick.

4 weeks in you were in denial that you were fine. And you noticed Gojo brushing your arm here and there. Sometimes he'd come up behind you to help you get your favourite mug from the top shelf. You swore that you left it on the bottom shelf.

6 weeks in , your toys became your best friends. " It's just as good as the real thing" You told your best friend while she shook her head. You aslo noticed Gojo walking around shirtless more often too. He was the definition of a sleeper build. And sometimes you'd have to stop yourself staring.

Week 8 you lost feeling in your 4th eye, you couldn't taste in your ear anymore and your eyed could feel colour's.

You lost count around week 9. Now you were beginning to lose it. You couldn't focus in class anymore, your mind would go to the most dirty scenarios regarding some of your fine professors. You also became noticeably irritable.

"fuck" You muttered to yourself, you gave yourself another miserable orgasm. Which was weird since normally you were quite good at it. You left your room to go make yourself some tea. "stupid celibacy pledge." You grumbled to yourself while making tea. Gojo sat on the couch watching some stupid movie with a stupid plot. "You okay, you seem irritated lately?" He asked.

" I'm fine" , you sighed " just stressed out with schoolwork"

"Oh?" You could feel him staring into your back so you turned to face him. His eyes immediately went down.

" You know Gojo this staring at my boobs thing is getting really old"

"I'm not staring" he said while not breaking boob eye contact.

You scoffed and turned your focus back on your tea. You heard his foot steps come up behind you. " You know if you're stressed with schoolwork I could uh... help you with that." You turned to face him. Except you had to look up at him.

" Stop being coy"

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and placed his hand on your waist. You swore your pussy started throbbing." You're looking at me like you're begging me to bend you over the kitchen counter and I'm the only one being coy?"

You so badly wanted him to continue speaking to you like that, but you were stubborn. So you turned your back to him, brushing your ass against his dick unnecessarily. That just egged him on, and he continued whispering downright dirty things in your ear. "See, now I have an idea of what you're like," he whispered while tracing circles on your waist. You tried to distract yourself by stiring your tea. "Oh? You think about me im so touched. " " Touched is what you'll be if you keep grinding your ass on my dick sweets"

You stopped, and his hands dropped lower to your hips. You hadn't even realised what you were doing. You felt yourself getting hotter and wetter. " Anyways, princess there are a long list of things I'd like to do to you". You were getting weak , you were only a girl and you had needs.

"Like what" You replied breathlessly

" You pressed up against the wall, leg on my shoulder and thighs squeezing my head."

He kept his one hand on your hip keeping you steady while the other trailed up to your boob. He began playing with your nipple and you thanked God you didn't wear a bra that day.

You couldn't keep your head on straight anymore and you moaned softly.

"You like that you slut" You could feel him smiling against your neck and you could only moan in response. Gojo began kissing your neck softly while you started grinding against his hardening dick.

"Gojo" You moaned softly

"No, use my name, else I won't touch you," He said playfully. However, you were too horny to be defiant, so you used his name.

"That's my girl"

His hand moved down to your shorts, went under and he started playing with your pussy over your underwear. The sensations were too much, but not enough at the same. You needed proper stimulation. You were getting so wet yet were so deprived.

"Satoru, please touch me properly"

"Where? Be specific, princess. "

You were desperate at this point, and the games weren't fun anymore. "Oh my God, you're not stupid. Put your long ass fingers to good use and finger me."

" Well, if you speak to me like that, you can finger yourself then." That's when you grabbed his hand and shoved it in your underwear. Satoru was shocked he didn't think you'd take control even if it was a tiny bit , but he liked it. His fingers were long, and he knew how to use them. He curled them in all the right spots. "Fuckk," you moaned. " You're a loud one, I wonder what sounds will come out of you when my dicks inside you" You could only grind against his fingers in response. His free hand roamed over your body. He played with your boob and squeezed your thighs all the while he nibbled your neck. You could feel how hard he was against your ass . You took his hand out of your shorts and turned around, pushing him towards the couch. Satoru only smirked in response. " Wowww you like taking control, huh? " He laid back against the couch. " Well, yeah, since you seem to be going to slow. Take off your pants." You first removed your shorts, shirt and then climbed into his lap after he took off his sweats. "Seriously blue, the same colour as your eyes?" You muttered while climbing into his lap. You didn't give him a chance to respond because he started kissing him and grinding on him. This time, you made him moan. You placed his hands on your hips and then held his face. "You know Satoru you're gonna need to be more dominant if i decide to fuck you again" You whispered into his ear. You heard him mutter shut up before grabbing your face to make out with you. You didn't expect him to be such a sloppy kisser. But he was. You tangled your hands in his hair while moaning into the kiss. You felt his hand squeeze your ass then move to your hips. You silently thanked God once again that you wore your cute lacy thong instead of grandma panties. Then you silently cursed when you felt him rip them off. " You ass those were my favourites." You wanted me to be more dominant." he smiled while moving you under him. He took off his own underwear and stroked himself. You looked at his dick. He was long like his fingers.

You wished that you were about to have your world rocked, and boy, that wish come true. Judging a book by its cover you assumed Satoru Gojo didn't know how to fuck. You thought he'd be a lot like those guys who said they knew how to please a woman but learned everything they knew from porn stars and their clueless guy friends. You were wrong. Satoru gojo knew how to fuck.

He had your legs over his hips and pinned your hands above your head. He left bruising kisses all over your chest and neck. He paid careful attention to your boobs, sucking each nipple with care. And his thrust? His stamina was insane for such a skinny guy. You were sure the neighbours would know his name from how loud you were moaning his name. "Ahhh, right there, yes there." You moaned. " Fuck you feel so fucking good." " Fuckk I swear this pussy was made for me you're such a good slut" He babbled on and on. You felt that familiar feeling building up inside. And he felt it too with how your walls began to clench him. " Cum for me , cum on my dick like a good slut" he moaned. He left more bruising kisses on your tits before shoving his tongue in your mouth once more. His hand trailed down to your clit where he rubbed circles on them. That sent you over the edge. You felt your walls clench down and moaned so loudly it was closer to a scream. Satoru began thrusting faster, chasing his own high. "Where must I cum?" He asked " Inside" and that made him finish. He kissed you once again. "Well, we'll have to do that again" he said while moving to sit up on the couch. " So much for 3 months of celibacy ." you said aloud. He looked at you utterly confused. You sat up quickly. " You know, gojo, I thought I gave you the ick when you walked in on me shaving my armpit hair." He cocked his head and looked at you, "why the fuck would i be paying attention to your hair armpits when your boobs were right there" You laughed and swatted at him. Maybe living with him wouldn't be so bad.

a/n That took so fucking long. Endings kinda rushed. I'm sorry. I'm so tired. Idk how to end these appropriately anyways FIRST FIC DONE WOOHOO 🎉🎊 uhm please don't steal or copy thanks MWAH MWAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY SNOOKUMS.

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - April

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

March

---

Joel stood by the maternity ward window, his nephew in his arms. He was besotted. He knew from that first moment he saw Jackson that he would do anything for that little boy. Tommy looked like a different man. There was a bounce to his steps, a puff in his chest, Joel thought. He looked happy, content and terrified all at the same time.

You were hugging Maria for the fifth time since you got there, so happy for this new friend you’d only met less than a year ago but had become someone so near and dear to your heart.

“So, let me get this straight,” Joel whispered, worried he would wake his brand new nephew, who was sleeping contentedly in his arms. “You didn’t call me when your wife went into labour? She must’ve been in labour for hours before you called me.”

“Yeah, she started having contractions yesterday afternoon. But her water only broke this morning,” Tommy told his big brother, both their eyes still on little Jackson. “Not like you could help make the labour go faster. Ten hours passed before he came out.”

Jackson started fussing, squirming in his uncle’s strong arms, before early signs of an uncomfortable cry began.

“Maybe he wants to feed,” Maria said, “Lil, can you?”

Joel passed Jackson to you. The little boy immediately stopped squirming, stretching a little before snuggling in your arms, one of his eyes opened, staring at you, the other still closed.

“He winked at me!” you whispered excitedly.

“He likes his Auntie Lily…” Maria cooed as you held her son next to her bed. She looked exhausted.

You rocked your body side to side, humming a little tune you used to hum to Ellie when you were holding her in Annie’s hospital room back when she was just born. Oh, you loved him already. You couldn’t help the coos and awws that escaped your mouth as you studied the little man’s face, finger caressing his little cheek.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you. Now that he knew you were not against going out on dates with him, he couldn’t stop planning. Sure, seeing you with Ellie was one thing, but you with a baby…

“You know, if you want one of those with her, you need to let her know how you feel about her first,” his Mama’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned around to see if you were watching, you were not; still fixated on little Jackson. “I did, Mama,” he told her. Anita smiled, looking extremely satisfied. “We’re going on a date next weekend.”

“Glad to know,” she said, giving her son a small nudge with her shoulder.

**********

When you and Joel got home that night, both of you were exhausted. You had been out the entire day. After a quick but much needed shower, you changed into your PJs and joined Joel in the living room, already in his own sleepwear, channel surfing.

Unlike the other nights before, you sat right up next to him this time, wanting the warmth of his body on yours, and he didn’t protest, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to snuggle up to him, fingers lazily tracing your arm up and down.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he asked if he could ask you something.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me asking you out?”

You nodded. “Can I ask you something now?”

He nodded.

“How long have you wanted to ask me out?”

He didn’t know, exactly, he said. But he knew he liked you, that he was comfortable with you, that he imagined you and Ellie to be his family, all that.  He realized that he liked you, liked you, for sure around Christmas, feeling extremely disappointed that you didn’t want to kiss him, and fell deeper for you since. But when Benny came, he was so scared that he had lost his chance of asking you out forever, so he’d been practicing asking you out since then.

“So Ellie was not kidding?”

“No, I didn’t even realize she was in the kitchen, really. I wouldn’t have said anything out loud if I had known.”

You laughed. But needed to ask, “Why me? I mean, I don’t look like Jen, like Lucy, and you… I mean, have you seen you? You could have anyone. Why me?”

He looked to be thinking for a while, before asking you a question. “You said you would’ve said yes if I had asked you out, right? Do you… like me, like me?”

You bit your lower lips, closed one eye and cringed to yourself before nodding, so worried that he would laugh at you, that everything he’d been telling you was a joke, a dream, your imagination.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, you’re used to being with Jen. And you have Lucy running after you. Even that Diana lady looked like one of the housewives on Wisteria Lane, I don’t look like them.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. You looked at your hand, worried about he might say next. “You’re a lot more beautiful than they will ever be. You’re gorgeous in my eyes, Williams,” he continued, caressing your face with his fingers.

“Why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

“Because you kept telling me you were not ready to date. And because I’m an idiot. And a chickenshit.”

You were about to laugh, but caught his expression, a self-doubting one. He took a deep breath.

“Also, I’m no Max. I can’t give you the things he used to give you, the things he’s still giving you,” he said, defeated.

“You talking about the purse?”

He nodded. “I can’t afford that purse ever, how could I compete with him? I’m just a teacher who sometimes work part-time with my brother for fun. And even that, since I moved in with you, with Ellie, I would rather spend my time at home with you guys on my days off.”

He was no longer looking you in the eyes, suddenly becoming extremely interested in his own feet.

You took his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Have you ever seen me use that purse?”

“No, but I figured…”

“Nope, I was never gonna use that purse.”

“But…”

“I accepted it because it’s valuable, I was gonna sell it to buy stuff for the house. Flooring. Hardwood flooring. I hate these carpets.”

He looked at you in bewilderment. What?

“I never cared about his money. I just wanted him. The old him. The one who knew I would never use that purse. It’s garish, loud, blingy. He buys them because me wearing them makes him look good. I don’t care about that. I like you, simply because you’re you. You make time for us, you spend time with us. Honestly that’s all I want in a relationship. That, and fidelity. And he used to give me those, until money became his main focus. And of course, Jen.”

You looked so sad he pulled you back into his arms, rubbing your back, comforting you until you calmed down. Without letting you go, he told you about Jen and her ‘beauty’. How much money she spent to look like that, and every time she came home looking more beautiful, more confident, the more cruel and callous she became, and he found his love for her died a little each time, for one more thing he used to love about her had disappeared along with whatever she had surgically fixed.

“So, while I think you are stunning, I do not find Jen or Lucy beautiful at all. They hold no candle to you.”

“So, we’ve both been insecure for nothing?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Both of you laughed at yourselves, before going back to a comfortable silence, just holding on to each other.

When he walked you to your bedroom that night, he gave you a lingering peck on the cheek. You had both decided neither of you were quite ready for anything physical – nothing more than whatever you were doing in the living room. Plus, it’s all so new. You had just confessed your feelings to one another. And more to the point, you each had only been with one person in your lives. Let’s not jump the gun. The fact that you were still married to someone else was just an added excuse to hold your horses for a while. And a five year old was coming back to live with you the next day. You needed to be responsible here.  

So yeah. A peck on the cheek and a few snuggles here and there were enough.

For now.

**********

The two of you spent Sunday planting your purchase in the backyard, spending time side by side, giving each other hugs and innocent kisses on the cheek, blushing every time one would look at the other. You felt as if you were back in high school, crushing on the handsome boy in the next class. You found excuses to be by each other’s side all the while you were working, just laughing with each other, teasing each other, making stupid jokes and mindless chit chats.

You had a slightly late dinner by the firepit, shoulders touching, reminiscing about the times you had spent in the garden. You told him about your talk with Eddie right there, how you found out you had been named Ellie’s guardian, and how he passed just a week later. Involuntary tears fell – you remembered that conversation as if it was yesterday, you remembered him promising you he wouldn’t leave.

Joel pulled you in for a side hug, kissing your temple, letting you cry for a while. He kept kissing your head, telling it’s okay, you can cry. You did a great job with Ellie, by the way, Eddie was right choosing you. Ellie’s a great kid.

He kept holding you until you stopped crying.

“You should let me mow the lawn one of these days, I should learn.”

He laughed. “Hey, you remember when you tried to mow the lawn that day I moved in?”

“Yeah?” You pouted, a little red in the face at the memory, feeling so stupid.

“I thought you were the most adorable person I have ever met then, so determined, so sure you were right. If I had known you longer, I would’ve kissed your pout away right there and then,” he said, one hand caressing your face, the other still around your shoulder, half eaten bowls of pasta lining the firepit, forgotten for now.

“Really?”

He nodded, eyes flickering to your lips really quickly, hand still caressing your face. He looked you in the eye again, checking for any signs of protests from you, lowering his lips, wanting to meld them to yours, your hearts beating so fast you didn’t hear anything but your own heartbeats in your ears.

BANG!

You and Joel separated as if the firepit had jumped between the two of you.

“Beans! We’re back! Oh…”

“Shit,” Frank was standing outside the kitchen door, hands on Ellie’s ears so she wouldn’t hear him swear. “We interrupted a near fucking kiss, didn’t we?”

“Fuck yeah, we did!” she chimed in, a little too loudly.

“Ellie! Language!”

**********

The next week became almost impossible to go through. The anticipation of the first date, along with the will to stay away from one another despite desperately wanting to spend some time together nearly killed you and Joel. Ellie was more than accommodating, let’s just say, but she was inadvertently making it worse, announcing her arrival into any place you and Joel might be alone with such a loud voice despite you being there alone, closing her eyes, bumping into things when she realized both of you were indeed, in the same room. She had so many bruises you were starting to worry Mrs Adler was going to report you and Joel for abuse.

It doesn’t help that this discovery that your feelings for each other were not one-sided was opening up other… feelings… one you may have been a bit too shy to explore before. Before long, you found yourself reaching into the locked drawer in your closet, taking out and dusting the loyal old friend you had – the one that used to keep you company those lonely nights Max ignored you or was out, again.

Thing was, the house you shared with Max was considerably larger than this one, and the layout was different – the guest bedroom you occupied was at the other end of the house to the master, where Max was. And, he had absolutely no reason to come to your part of the house, so you weren’t worried anyone would hear any… buzzing.

The first time you turned that loyal friend of yours in this house, though, the noise your loyal friend made shocked the living shit out of you. No way, there was no way Joel or Ellie couldn’t hear that. Your room shared a wall with both of theirs, and their bed was pressed up directly to those walls you shared. So, you reluctantly put your faithful old friend away and had to resort to your fingers instead, careful to bury yourself under the safety of your blanket, a pillow over your face in case you started moaning a bit too loudly. Just as you were starting to get into it, you heard a door open, followed by a soft knock on your door, Ellie opening it almost immediately, dancing a little, desperate for the bathroom.

Thank God you decided against your old friend.

But there was no way you were going to try that again anytime soon.

Of course, you didn’t tell Joel any of this, especially since you were so mortified by the thought that he might hear you… taking care of yourself like that. Truth was, Joel wouldn’t have noticed. He was in a dilemma of his own. He couldn’t sleep, that night Jackson was born. He had spent the entire night with you all snuggled up to him, and you had confessed your feelings for him, letting him know his insecurity was not something he should be insecure about, not when it came to you. He had your warm body pressed up all over him, your hair all over his face, the smell of you, your little moans and laughs as you got comfy snuggling up to him, the way your fingers ran all over his chest and biceps.

Fuck… he was in hell.

He tried to go to sleep but couldn’t. So, he reached into his pants, wrapping his fingers around himself to help with… tension relief, biting his own lips so that he wouldn’t accidentally moan your name out loud. He fisted himself a few times, testing the water, spat in his own palm before stroking himself more deliberately, eyes closed in ecstasy. Just as he got to a place where he needed to stroke faster, his fucking bed creaked. The stupid, white princess bed fucking creaked. Oh so loudly. He stilled, keeping an ear out for any signs that you might have heard that, but there were none.

And by the time the panic dissipated from his chest, any desire he had to take care of his needs had gone.

It happened again the next morning, when he was in the shower. He thought, Ellie was not home, you were in the backyard, he could take care of himself really quickly. So he did, under the cover of the strong water pressure of the shower, determined not to make so much noise. But when he came, he was overcome by how good it felt - it had been a while - and the mental images of you kneeling before him was too much to bear. Before he knew it, your name came out of his mouth, and he was grabbing the shower curtain so hard he ripped it off the rods.

Your panicked banging on the door put an end to any remnants of an erection he might have left, asking him if everything was alright. You heard him call your name. Did he injure himself? Joel?

“Uh, I’m okay. I nearly slipped. But managed to catch the shower curtain. I need to replace it. Sorry,” he said, red in the face, hoping to God you believed his excuse.

Thankfully, you did, but that was how it went that week. The two of you kept thinking how the heck were you going to handle being… intimate… when the time came, without scarring Ellie any further than she already was.

**********

Friday came. You and Joel were going out to dinner that night. Tess had agreed to take Ellie for the weekend. So you and Joel would have the house all to yourself that weekend. Andy had even agreed to send Ellie straight to school Monday. To say you were looking forward to this weekend was an understatement.

They screamed when you told them you were going out on a date with Joel. All of them, even Bill came and hugged you. All the secret plotting they’d been doing to get you and Joel together came out then. You couldn’t believe the lengths these people went through, just to get you to go out on a date with RPH.

Although he was never RPH to you. He was Joel. The sweetest man who had ever lived. You scolded Maria for not letting Tommy tell you and Joel her water broke, but she simply shrugged and said you being there won’t make Jackson come any faster. And you should buy her flowers for doing that, otherwise that ‘date’ wouldn’t have happened.

Frank surprised you with the news that Ellie was the one who called him and asked if she could stay with him and Bill that weekend, telling him Joel had asked you out, and for him to think of an excuse. Obviously, they were never at his sister’s. If Frank hadn’t been available, Tess was planning to pretend to take Ellie to the ranch for the birth of a foal that hadn’t been born yet.

You called Benny to yell at him when you found out his role in this whole elaborate planning, only for him to swerve you and claimed he was about to get on a plane – although it sounded suspiciously like a beach where he was.

You were definitely touched that they all wanted you and Joel to get together so much. And yes, you were looking forward to the date.

Until noon, when the school called you, telling you that Ellie had been injured. You were all the way across town delivering a cake, Tess was alone at the bakery, Bill was working, Andy was showing a house, and Frank was with you. You left the car with Frank, jumping on the train to get to her sooner since google told you that it would take you almost two hours to get to her. You called Joel crying, begging him to go get Ellie and take her to the hospital.

When you got to the emergency room, Ellie was sleeping in Joel’s arms, her face stained from tears. She had chased a kitten into the parking lot, and the kitten had run under a car. She reached under the car to get it, catching the hot exhaust with her forearm, rendering her a small second degree burn. The three of you were in the ER the whole night, arriving home at 4am Saturday morning, where you helped Ellie change into her PJs and laid her on your bed. Joel kissed her goodnight, getting up to leave, only for Ellie to stop him.

Of course, he relented, changing into his PJs before joining the two of you in bed.

As the three of you laid in bed, Ellie sleeping between the two of you, you whispered to him that you might want to postpone the date a bit, make sure Ellie was fully recovered before you would feel comfortable leaving her with anyone else. He fully agreed, of course, the sweet man that he was.

But Ellie heard and began to apologize for getting hurt on your big date night. I’m so sorry Beans, I’m sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to get hurt.

“Hey, it’s okay, Bells, we’re not angry at you. We’re just happy you’re alright.”

“But I spoiled your date.”

“Nothing is spoiled, we’ll just go another day. Nothing is more important than you, BabyGirl. We promise. Sleep, okay?” Joel, coaxed, before humming the song she sang at the concert for her.

As you watched Joel coax your little girl to sleep, if it’s at all possible, you fell just a little bit harder for him. He loved her, it didn’t take an expert to see that.

“Does this mean we have to cancel my birthday?”

“No, we’re not cancelling your birthday. We have to make sure your arm is really okay though, so you be good and keep the bandage dry and let me or Joel clean it every day, okay?”

She nodded, a small okay escaping her lips, before finally, finally, falling asleep again.

You placed your hand on her belly, shivering slightly at the thought of how much worse the burn could’ve gotten if she had reached further. As if able to read your mind, Joel placed his hand on yours, squeezing it slightly, telling you she’ll be okay, although you could tell he was just as petrified as you were back in the ER, if not more. He had to look away when the doctor was treating her burn, although he let her bury her face in his side as the doctor did so, his hand squeezing your own as she cried into his torso.

When you wake up the next morning, you were once again alone with Joel, Ellie already up, lying on her belly on the love seat in your room, colouring something. Unlike before, you didn’t try to escape, and when Joel opened his eyes, he just pulled you closer to him, and both of you fell back into an easy sleep.

**********

A little under two weeks after the incident, you and Joel stumbled into your home with boxes upon boxes of birthday presents for Ellie, the little girl running into her room with extra large colouring set Bill and Frank had gotten her. God, you never knew how difficult it was to make sure 15 five-year-olds didn’t maim themselves or each other. Even with the help of Mrs Adler, Anita, Tess and Andy, you were outnumbered. Joel got lucky, he was only there for the final hour, having his own work and classes to tend to. Even so, he was knackered, having to round up three boys who were convinced there was a chicken lose in Ellie’s classroom before the birthday party ended. Anita was helping with the leftovers, all put away in Tupperware containers, separating some to take home to Tommy and Maria, themselves knackered in their own rights. Tess came in with the last of the presents, Andy coming in and going straight to Ellie’s room.

As you and Joel finished putting the presents in a corner for Ellie to decide where to keep them, the house suddenly got quiet, and the two of you realized that the front door had been shut. Joel went to the window to see Anita with several bags of leftovers, Tess with Ellie’s suitcase and Andy with Ellie over her shoulder, running to the car as dramatically as they could, the little girl giggling in glee.

“What’s going on?” Joel shouted after them, wrenching the front door open.

“Have fun!!!” Andy yelled, shoving Ellie into her car, quickly going in herself before peeling away as if they were in some bad mafia film.

“Wow. Really?” Joel asked you, disbelief in his face. “What’s with the elaborate kidnapping? Not as if we wouldn’t have let her go.”

“Actually, Tess asked if they could take Ellie to the ranch – that horse she was taking care of gave birth and they promised her they would let her name it. I said no, though.”

“Why?”

“Her burn…”

“The doctor okayed it, remember? She doesn’t even need her bandages anymore.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you said one final time before taking a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry.

“Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll clean up.”

When you came out, Joel had put everything away and was in the shower himself. You were trying to figure out which leftover to have for dinner when he came out, asking you if you’d like to have a picnic with him by the firepit for dinner that day.

“We have all the party food, we have cake, great picnic food. We can call it an unofficial date, what do you say?” he coaxed, pulling you into his arm, getting droplets of water from his hair all over your arms as you involuntarily wrapped them around his neck.

“Okay,” you said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Aside from your hugs and snuggling on the couch and in bed, this might be the most intimate you had ever been with him. You took his towel from around his neck and gently helped dry his hair better, his eyes closing at the sensation, suddenly brought back to the time you ran your fingers on his scalp.

When he opened his eyes, you were staring right into his own. You dropped his towel on the kitchen counter, combing your fingers through his hair, scratching his head lightly.

He slowly, deliberately, took two slow steps forwards, until your back touched the kitchen island, his arms caging you in, and bent his head, softly capturing your lips with his own, sealing your first kiss together.

---

May

[aristocratic-otter]

Hi all! It's so lovely to see so many people motivated by the fresh feeling of a new year. Thank you for sharing your work with me, @artsyunderstudy, @nausikaaa, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @roomwithanopenfire,

@whatevertheweather, @bookish-bogwitch, @martsonmars, @bookishbroadwayandblind, and @prettygoododds.

One thing I learned from reading everyone's year-end retrospectives: if I want to be more involved, I need to stop being such a perfectionist! I could have been posting every week, but I'd be kicking myself over not having finished a piece of every single WIP...and so I wouldn't post. I'm gonna challenge myself to just post, even if I only wrote one thing the previous week. So that said, it was a vacation week for me, so along with posting my gift fic for @facewithoutheart, A Very Zombie Christmas, I did actually do work on a lot of my WIPs, and you can expect updates on at least two of them this week.

So, here we go. As always, I absolutely did not bother to count six sentences:

From my 2023 COTTA, Snow Fox:

It took some convincing to get Penny and Mitali out the window and up onto the roof. Well, more Mitali than Penny. Neither woman much liked the fact that their petticoats and whatever other underthings women wear would be clearly visible from underneath the whole time they were climbing. 

Penny accepted it as a necessity with a grumble and an embarrassed flush, but Mitali truly balked at the idea. Finally, Pen suggested that I lower a loop of rope rather than an end of rope, and the women could sit in the loop and be hauled up. That resolved the whole ridiculous issue, and we had both women out of the house and onto the roof in short order. 

From my COBB with @cutestkilla: The Rat and the River

I’ve always wanted to be part of one of Snow’s famous ‘lunch meetings’.  Penelope’s told me about them. Simon thinks better with food, so all  information is shared and ideas are circulated over meals in Simon’s team. I used to wish to be British myself so I could join his team and take part in these comfortable meetings of minds. I love food and I love talk, especially talk about disease. What could be more enticing than spending time over sandwiches with the famous Snow’s angels? 

Especially one particular angel. 

From Tiktok Dancer:

Penny, Shep, Agatha and I are all staring at him, jaws hanging loose in our surprise at his unexpected eloquence and passion. Baz just sips on his fruity cocktail and smiles back at us demurely.

I suddenly realize how little I know about this man I’ve fallen head over heels for. And not knowing makes me itch—I can’t stand it.

“What dream are you pursuing?”  I blurt. 

Baz looks at me steadily, and I can almost see him revising his first answer in his head.

From my Visitor Baz AU: 

Baz is dead.

Baz is dead. 

I can’t understand it. The idea that Baz, my terrible roommate, will never snark at me from his desk across the room from mine again…that he’ll never use up all the hot water with his endless showers or wear his uniform in such a way that makes it look designer while all the rest of us look boring. He’ll never suck down a rat in the catacombs or earn the highest score on a Magic Words exam. 

Baz is dead. 

From Saving Simon Snow (I’ve got to reread this one to get my mojo back on it, I think. But here’s six new shortish sentences):

In all our years of cohabitation, I’ve never seen Simon truly lose his temper with Bunce. With me, certainly. Hundreds of times. In the Catacombs, he was irritable and defiant. But now? The moment Bunce grabs hold of his arm, Simon goes off. 

 From CORB #1, Baby Mine with @argumentativeantitheticalg

His voice takes on that haughty, lecturing tone I used to hate so much. Or at least that I used to think that I hated. It made me want to slam him against the wall and get in his face. 

I think I maybe just wanted to get my face on his face. Why was I so fucking stupid?

I’m lost in rumination on my own failings when the rise in volume from the crib and the pointed clearing of Baz’s throat both bring me back.

From CORB #2: The Stoves Come On At Night, with @ebbpettier

I wake up.

For several seconds, I blink groggily into the early morning light. I try to catch at the wisps of the dream I was having, but they’re fading. 

I can’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. Like I’d planned, I’d slept a few hours last night and then got up at three a.m. Three hours later, after I’d finished a sketchy patrol, I headed back to bed as the first rays of the sun were just breaking over the horizon. 

It can’t be more than 8 am now. What on earth woke me up? Even if I can’t really remember it, I’d been having such a pleasant dream…

Suddenly, I realize that the annoying buzzing sound I hear is an alarm–the fire alarm!

Tags and howdies to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @fatalfangirl,

@melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist,  @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean,

@raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz,

@krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost, @mooncello,

@shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart,  @theearlgreymage, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife,

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @skeedelvee, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

@messofthejess, @best--dress, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,  @hushed-chorus, 

@rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @cutestkilla, @letraspal, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,

@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @emeryhall, @larkral, @youarenevertooold,

@j-nipper-95, @ebbpettier, and @argumentativeantitheticalg

[artstennisracket]

In honor of Mike Faist’s birthday, do you have any ideas on Patrick and Art celebrating Art’s birthday together? Would Patrick go all out and surprise him?

i had to do move this ask to the top of my list so I could get it out asap (spoiler alert I did not finish it yesterday on mike’s actual bday, I fell asleep writing it last night 😭) i kept it cute and fluffy because I think Patrick would surprise him🤭

cw: fluff

Neither Art nor Patrick were very big on birthdays. Growing up Art’s family didn’t do much aside from having a birthday cake after dinner, but he still cherished those moments. Patrick’s family on the other hand would always very extravagant dinner parties with a ridiculous amount of people, mainly people Patrick didn’t know like his parents co-workers, investors, etc. They were never treated like they were actually celebrating him, more just celebrating work.

This was going to be Art’s first birthday away from his family (since his birthday usually falls during winter break) and he didn’t go home this year. It was his freshman year at stanford and he wanted to get ahead so he took a class during winter intermission.

He didn’t think much of it and honestly almost forgot about his birthday until he received a text exactly at 12:00am on January 5th from Patrick that read, Happy Birthdayyyy :).

Art smiled reading it. He could always count on Patrick. Shortly after Art received another text from Patrick, sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate but i’ll visit you soon dw.

Art types back, thank you! and it’s okay man, i’ll see you when I see you.

He doesn’t think anything about it and falls asleep.

…

So imagine Art’s surprise when he’s startled awake by the weight of someone jumping on top of him.

“good morning sunshine, happy birthday!!!!!!” Patrick exclaims, laying directly on top of Art.

Art groans blinking his eyes awake, “what are you doing here?” Luckily Art’s roommate went home for winter break, otherwise the commotion would’ve woken him up too. Art checks his phone on his nightstand to see a text from Tashi that came in at 5:30 am, Happy Birthday.

“and here I was thinking you’d be happy to see me,” Patrick sighs sitting up so he’s sitting in the V between Art’s legs.

Art sits up too, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “of course I’m happy to see you I just wasn’t expecting—”

Art pauses. He didn’t even get a chance to look around his room yet but when he did he was event more surprised. There were balloons all over his ceiling. So many different shades of blue. “how did you—”

“i bribed your RA to let me in. It took a lot of convincing but I think having the balloons with me helped my case.”

“you didn’t have to do this.” Art says, smile creeping up on his face.

“no I know but i knew it was going to be your first birthday away from your family and i wanted you to know how much you mean to me. i wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” Patrick shrugs saying it so nonchalantly but Art can see the faint blush start to rise on Patrick’s cheeks.

Art couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried. It doesn’t take long for him to see a small birthday cake and neatly wrapped gift box placed on his dresser.

He looks over at Patrick, “no you didn’t.”

Patrick smirks, “what’s a birthday without some cake?”

Art is still looking at Patrick with disbelief.

“well don’t just sit there admiring my beauty, go open your gift.” Patrick says as he pushes Art’s shoulders to get him to stand up.

Art stands up, walking over to the table. He picks up up the box and turns back to face Patrick, “there’s no way you wrapped this.”

Patrick shrugs, “i have my ways.” And by that he meant getting Tashi to wrap it for him because lord knows Patrick can’t wrap for shit.

Art rolls his eyes playing before carefully opening the wrapping paper which reveals a cardboard box. He takes some scissors from his desks and opens the box. Inside is a black picture frame that holds a picture of Art and Patrick right after the won the Junior U.S. Open Doubles Championship. It’s from when they had held up their trophies together, kissing the rims.

Patrick gets up from his place on Art’s bed and comes to stand next to Art. “do you like it?”

Art is starting to feel a little emotional now. Even though it hasn’t been that long since they left MRTA, it had felt like a lifetime since he’s seen Patrick. This picture has him reminiscing to the days where they did everything together. “ya i— i love it.” Art responds trying really hard not to tear up right now.

“nope no tears from the birthday boy, let’s sing happy birthday!” Patrick smiles adding the number ‘19’ candle on top of the cake. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and lights it.

He goes to stand behind Art, resting his chin on Art’s shoulder and his hands around Art’s waist. He starts to sing happy birthday and once the song comes to close he tells Art to make a wish.

Art closes his eyes and thinks about what he could possible wish for because as far as he was concerned, he had everything he wanted right here.

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt11

Howdy again y'all! It's a pleasure to post another part of the story so many enjoy. I'm sorry if I diverge from canon too much?

tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6, part7,part8,part9,part10

His eyes shoot open “shit”

“What is it”

“….”

“What is it?” You ask more paranoid

“Nothing baby” he says quickly, eyes lost in thought

“What happened?” You ask more panicked. He looks at you and hesitates, no, looks resigned to what he must say

“It’s nothing” he insists through clenched teeth looking down, almost like it’s forced.

“Johnny please just tell m-“

“It’s nothing!" he snaps. You flinch in shock and worry covers your face. Soap looked so…conflicted.

You try to think of what to do, lost. Then you settle on just…sitting near him.

A bad silence shrouds the atmosphere. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your morning with the newly returned soldier. You feel the guilt in your stomach grow more and more. You just….didn’t think this would happen. You just snooped around a little because you were curious and…well…nervous. You never thought this would lead to this. You never knew what your roommate was up to. You, admittedly, dismissed a lot of the claims because:

a.a lot of misinformation are on these sketchy sites and b.you can never really know everything and c….you..didn’t want to believe it….silly but….unproven claims weren’t the first thing you wanted to think about when thinking of Johnny. No. When you saw those vague claims you didn’t think that the man who jokes about being in love with you was a war criminal. Those people be anyone. They could be the ones Johnny was fighting against, it the ones that shot him. Or…maybe it’s justified what they did due to unknown reasons…or…he didn’t know or it was out of his control. Can’t blame a soldier can you? Especially since Johnny tells you it’s just…well….he made his job sound boring sometimes. You’re beginning to think he just wanted to calm you down. He seemed like a calm guy so you believed him. Looking at Soap now? He’s tense, deep in thought and covering his mouth.

You reach out a hand to the pondering man and place it gently on his shoulder. “Hey” you softly say “look at me”

He tilts his head up, eyes troubled yet resigned somehow. “What can you tell me?” You offer, thumbing his collarbone. He places a hands on yours, leaning his head to it, deep in thought. He looks at you and cautiously says “it’s….something I thought I knew about someone I trust, turned out tae be true. Can’t figure out how anyone can know”

“So your friend’s secret was revealed?”

He nods “there shouldn’t be any way fer anyone tae find out fer sure….could be a lucky guess”

“Who did your friend tell about the secret?”

He shakes his head

“Not a soul to what I know.”

“Then how’d you know?”

“I didn’t. He never told me. I just….had a hunch. And it’s not like he doesn’t have his reasons”

“Was it a really bad thing?”

Silence for a moment.

“No. Bastard fucking deserved it.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“It’s….jus’….a surprise” and also no one should know, but it’s plausible to piece together.

“Does it make him worse in your eyes?”

Another silence

“….no. He did what he had to”

“Then did it make him better in your eyes?”

He thinks for a moment “aye. He took matters in his own hand.” His eyes, down and still contemplating the information, close tightly and his hand brings your hand to cup his face. He sighs, still upset about your knowledge.

“What do you think of me Bonny?”

You tilt your head in question. He opens his eyes and look at you “what do you think of me now?”

You’re silent, finding your answer. He doesn’t pressure you, feeling as if he’s telling you to take your time

“I….don’t know what’s the full truth about you. Everything I read is so vague, jumbled and confusing….” You trail off. He squeezes both your hands as encouragement to keep talking. His eyes glimmer with a sad desperation.

“….I don’t know what to make of this, Soap….even if you tell me the truth I have a feeling that’s not pretty either…” you stare off to the window somewhere. You don’t want to think you’ve entirely misjudged Johnny, and his saddened eyes just make you rethink a lot of things. You sigh “Johnny…I….” You shuffle a little “I still care for you...I wouldn’t want you anywhere in the world but here with me.”

He looked comforted by that, reassured that you’re not disgusted by him or think him responsible for some really bad shit.

“Tha’s good…” he sighs, still upset about you knowing anyway. He never wanted that hideous and cruel world seeping its stench into the paradise he’s created with you here. You lean into him more, offering your presence more fully. He looks at you with eyes that are a mix between his signature puppy eyes that always had you folding to his will and somber eyes that seem to apologize just for being here. He opens his mouth “I….” Sigh “I…”

“It’s okay Johnny….I’m sure it’ll all be okay…” He looks down, doubtful of your optimistic claim.

He stands up and looks down at you. He a big boy but he never felt intimidating to you. He was always the oversized golden retriever with a Mohawk who liked whiskey. You stand up too and hug him. “Never wanted ye tae s-“

“I know. But forget about all that. You’re home now”

He hugs back “I’ll clear yer name” he promises a while later. You nod “yes please.”

“And get rid of the agents”

“I’d like that. I’m sorry I ever got involved in this”

“I know….I’ll send this back to base…”

“Are you going to let your friend know about this?”

“Aye. If anyone should know it should be him”

“Good. He’ll appreciate it”

.

.

.

“Ye still love me right?”

You giggle bashfully at his choice in words.

“Why? Would you love me if I was a war criminal?”

“Aye, if Hitler had a wife I think I can have yer love”

“So you’re as bad as Hitler?” He groans. You lean up to kiss his cheek.

Then he grins “there’s my hero’s welcome”

[dreamingofawhiteswan]

Yandere Rocket x Reader

WARNING: Mild violence mentioned. Death mentioned. Kidnapping mentioned. Please read with caution.

Additional notes: this request was done for Yin anon. I hope I captured the wish accurately

Rocket is a slow burner, and it all begins when he starts to feel jealous. That's normal in relationships, even when you're just crushing! When he sees a person flirt with you, he suppresses the desire to butt in until he sees you look uncomfortable.

But it's a little more than jealousy. Every time anyone speaks to you, looks at you, he gets that feeling. You're already friends, so what's a confession going to do? "Oh I wanna hang out more" wow how game changing. It ends up not really changing anything, even though you gently reject him.

But the more you talk to those people, the worse he feels. He knows it's wrong, so he hides it in flowery language. "You're not forgetting about me, right? We're pretty much attached at the hip, Zuka said so.". Sure, lying isn't the best, but who cares? If it stops him losing you, that's all that really matters.

But you pesky thing, you keep interacting with everyone! Stop looking at them like that! And why do you look at those things like that? Even the park bench gets your gaze...

You're supposed to love him! You love him! You do love him! He'll keep asking until you admit it already! He'll ask every day, every hour, every minute, every second!

Then you go and disappear. And you choose Playground, of all places. Are you mocking him? You must be. Especially since he finds out you're cozying up with some other guy in that hellpit. The thought of their hands all over you makes him feel sick.

He'll show you the kind of guy he used to be. You better just suck it up and tell him you're in love with him. You both know it's true.

- Rocket is the type who is slow, but spirals quite quickly when the ball gets rolling. He could go years fostering the beginnings of an obsession, but when the last straw breaks the camel's back, you're getting kidnapped by the end of the week.

- In the face of fighting back, he's relatively hard to wind up due to his experience in Playground, but that's because you find out the hard way he's the type to take a lot of abuse, store it all mentally, and then explode on you.

- Rocket isn't the type to get flustered. Before he became obsessed, he would be, but post-kidnapping has changed him back into the ruthless Playground street rat. There is absolutely a level of violence that comes with being in his grasp.

- One of the ways his babe has any power over him is by saying they love him. Of course, this is a double edged sword as he expects proof of that love. His love language is gift giving, and he despises regifting. Since everything of yours is a gift from him, there's only really one thing you own that can be gifted over and over.

- He has a body count, and even post-kidnapping it's going up. Since he's completely snapped, he's taken a daily exercise of scratching out a list he made of everyone and everything you ever looked at that wasn't related to him, and wiping it off the Inpherno.

- Another hobby is carving you into his ideal shape. He likes to hold your neck and force it into countless positions in order to carve your horns in his image. Pieces of skin coming off is pretty common, and if you want that mess gone, you better do it yourself.

"I'm home." You hear the voice of your captor state, as if he was merely greeting a roommate. You can't see him, but you can watch how the floor moves in his steps. The way the metal of his leg clinks and compare it to the regular thumping of his other leg.

You listen to the clinking and thudding, trying to piece when he's next going to open that door at the top of the stairs and head down. It isn't long until the sounds of him moving stop, and a soft creak of a door comes to your ears.

"Hey babe." He states, as if this were your bedroom. As if there's a clock on the wall, a window to shine lights through, sheets that aren't a stark colour. He makes his way to you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He then presents his own cheek, which you press your lips to. Initially, you gagged at giving him his welcome home kiss, but that reflex was beaten out of you long ago.

"Today was rough! Honestly, I question why some of these people are allowed to walk around!" He begins the lengthy process of complaining about whatever day he had. If anything, you tune it out, only really listening to one specific part.

And to that part he gets. He describes how he went to visit someone. You make a point to hear their names, even though you stopped mattering to them a long time ago. Rocket doesn't have the mercy of temporary relationships, so they must be punished, in his eyes.

[moghedien]

Book Galinda my beloved 😭

[swagging-back-to]

the way literally every fucking person has been REPULSIVE about euthanasia lately.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Shout out to the guy who read:

"I keep trying to warn you where this will lead.

It isn't about what I want or what I think should happen, I'm not endorsing anything, let's be clear, it's about what will happen, really, it's about human nature.

This isn't about what's moral, or what's reasonable, or what you think you can stoke a divisive culture war against, it isn't about my opinion, I did not invent the nature of need, it's about what people have always done when faced with no good options, guns in their hands and staring up at the people sentencing them to suffering and death."

Interpreted it as me saying "gun violence is the appropriate solution" and then threatened me with gun violence for saying it was the solution...

And then deleted his reblog when I pointed out his lack of reading comprehension and blocked him.

Leave alone that he is exactly the kind of disillusioned right wing supporting gun toting reactionary who I was trying to point out will be the ones actually enacting the gun violence [not so much the staunch leftists who believe in the value of human life]... As has actually already been proven at least 3 times now.

I'd like to remind him that I do report people for threats of physical violence and for harassment.

And I'd like to recommend stepping away from the internet and having a nice hot bath or something every time he feels the need to try to make a nasty comment... Before he makes an ass of himself again.

I'd also like to reiterate that I am not endorsing gun violence, I am merely pointing out that this will continue to happen if we stay on this trajectory, and you can't reasonably expect another outcome.

Look at history's example.

You are fucking so deeply with human rights and everyone being able to meet their basic needs that the angry incels who used to be taking aim at women and students, are the exact group who are now looking angrily up at billionaires and politicians, having finally seen who they should be mad at [not an endorsement of them seeing gun violence as the solution], and wow I bet THEY -the largely rich white men who are 'calling the shots'- don't like it when the guns are being aimed at them instead of the women and children they can usually scapegoat...

Maybe try not to literally threaten to shoot the messenger?

I mean, I can also predict that suddenly gun reform will start to seem okay or be dropped as a main talking point by the political right once enough billionaires, CEOs, and politicians are shot/shot at... That's just me pointing out what's a near inevitability... Not me exerting some power to try to make it happen. [I have none]

I'm not the one with the gun, and I'm not the one stripping people of their basic human rights or denying their needs for survival. I have no power to tell people what to do and I have about as much influence as your average tumblr shit-poster at best. That is in fact the MOST power I have in any facet of my life. I'm just telling you what I see happening. If you think lashing out at me solves anything, you are misdirecting that energy, buddy.

[maretriarch]

i of course am like. actually, materially very lonesome having moved across the country away from everything and everybody ive ever known. i cry about it every 24-48 hours. i dont think ive made a mistake exactly though. im learning more about the real world and being an adult than i ever could at home. but its hard. its grueling. i feel literally homeless. im too sensitive to the looks people give me in public. eyes feel like hot irons on my neck i feel like an open wound. every glance i get i run through the gamut of what could they possibly be thinking about me. do they like me? do they hate me? how do i look? should i smile? look away? what should i say? what do they think? and i always come to a negative conclusion about what is literally just their eyes gliding across me in space. i have the anxiety of an agoraphobe and the weird compulsion to always be walking and outside of the house. i talk to so few people except my own internal monologue. my thoughts are getting sicker and often cruel. but i also consider myself friendly and nice and personable? i try to be anyways.