#I think they never actually dated they were just weird and fucked up for months and then had a dramatic friendship break up

[bloatedandalone04]

Kiwi

Summary: You’re pregnant with Rafe’s baby, and he’s more stressed out about it than you are (and rightfully so).

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, swearing, protective rafe, soon to be dad rafe, smut, angst if you squint, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

You were steadily entering your second trimester, which was shaping out to be a little easier than your first. You were still craving the weirdest food combinations, but Rafe would never complain about needing to go out and buy them for you since the grateful smile you always gave him made his heart feel so full. 

Seven years with you, and he was still as crazy about you as he’d been since the first date. 

With that being said, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend to like your weird (and sometimes really fucking gross) pregnancy cravings. But he would have to, since you’re carrying his baby like a fucking champ, and you looked so stunning while doing so. 

Rafe had just gotten back from a grocery store run, sporting a bag full of odd food choices for you, and he set it down on the counter before leaving the kitchen to go find you. 

You were in the living room, your feet planted on the couch as you scrolled through your phone. Why you were standing on the couch, he had no idea, but the thought of you accidentally falling was the first thing that flashed through his head, and he was not about to let that happen. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped, quickly walking over to you and grabbing your waist. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You’re four months pregnant, babygirl, you need to be careful. Jesus Christ.”

“I am being careful,” you defended yourself, holding your phone in one hand while your other ran through his hair. You looked around the living room, your eyes flickering between every corner as you stayed standing on the couch. “I saw a spider, and I don’t know where it went. And you know how much I hate spiders. I had to make sure it didn’t crawl on me or something. Then I would’ve been the one having a heart attack.”

You sounded so unserious, but Rafe knew you were being completely genuine. Your fear of anything that had more than two legs was no joke, and he couldn’t count the times he’s killed something for you on both hands. 

“Plus, I’ve only been standing here for, like, five minutes,” you added, looking down at him and shrugging casually, as if you didn’t feel the way his grip tightened on you at your words. 

“Five minutes is too fucking long,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head afterwards as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against your belly. “You’re not thinking straight right now, are you? That’s the only logical explanation for this.”

His big hands stayed planted on your waist, keeping you steady as he pulled away and looked up at you, his blue eyes wide and full of nothing but adoration for you and the little life growing inside of you. 

“You’re going to give me gray hairs, you know that right?” he grunted, a smile forming on his lips when you let out a soft laugh. 

“Ooh, silver fox Rafe,” you teased, draping your arms around his neck as he helped you off the couch. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’d look so fucking hot with gray hair, baby. Like, so fucking sexy. So don’t tempt me.”

Rafe scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Silver fox? I’m twenty nine, baby, not forty,” he mumbled, “But, I guess if you like that sorta thing…who am I to judge?”

You laughed, leaning into his touch as you pressed your lips to his jaw. “I like anything that involves you,”

He smiled down at you, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I like anything that involves you too, babygirl,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “Actually, I love everything that involves you.”

Then he was leaning all the way in and kissing you deeply and slowly, his hands sliding down your body until they grazed your ass, and then he was full on groping you through your leggings. 

You whined against his mouth, your lips pressing more firmly against his as you pulled him impossibly closer to you until your bump was pushing against his abs. “You always have to one up me, don’t you?” you muttered, “And what’s with you always grabbing my ass? You’ve been obsessed with it since we got together.”

Rafe smirked down at you. “Of course I’m obsessed with it, it’s part of you,” he replied, and you pressed your lips together. 

“You are so fucking sweet and sexy and I think we should go to our bedroom before I-” you cut yourself off by screaming directly into your husband’s face as you practically jumped back up onto the couch with wide eyes. 

Rafe didn’t even need to turn around to know that the eight legged creature who scared you before had made its big return. “What did I tell you?” he muttered, taking you into his arms as he lifted you from the couch. 

“Rafe! Stop, it’s literally right there and it’s so fucking big,” you protested as he carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen. Once he had you sitting safely at the breakfast bar, he slid the bag of food over for you to inspect as he grabbed a piece of paper towel. 

“Stay here, okay? Eat something,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he walked back into the living room to find the harmless insect that had been tormenting you during the entire time he was gone. 

-

You were pulling Rafe along with you towards the bedroom, your lips all over his neck and jaw, but he was moving so slowly. You were now six months pregnant, and Rafe had become more and more protective of you, if that was even possible at this point. 

And while you loved him for it, his hesitation every time you initiated sex was making you go crazy. You were so turned on, and you needed your husband. 

“Rafe,” you moaned, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you walked backwards. “I need you. I need you so bad. Please? I promise, I won’t break.” you whined, nearly stumbling as you pulled him along with you. 

Rafe’s hands instantly tightened on your waist, his thumbs brushing along the underside of your belly as it pressed against his abs through his shirt. “Easy, babygirl,” he cooed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” 

While you knew he wanted to be gentle and sweet with you, you also knew exactly how to rile him up and get him going. Rafe had been obsessed with your body since the second he first saw you completely bare, and his obsession had only intensified once your body began to change due to your pregnancy. 

You stepped back and pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts that had grown so much, they were nearly spilling out of your bra. You watched Rafe bite his lip before you moved onto your leggings, and you stepped out of them and kicked them aside as well. 

Rafe groaned as he pulled off his own shirt and jeans, his hands finding your waist again as he moved to sit on the bed. “Come here,” he murmured, sliding your panties down your legs before he guided you onto his lap. 

You willingly went, a needy whine leaving your lips as you settled on top of him and pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard cock. “I love you,” you moaned, kissing him as you began to rub yourself along his dick. “I love you so much.”

He gripped your hips, guiding the slow rolls of your body. “I love you too, baby,” he groaned, “More than my next fucking breath.”

His words made your head feel all fuzzy, and he lifted you slightly to position himself at your soaked core. When he eased you back down onto his cock, you both let out a sound of relief as you came together as one, and you reveled in the feeling of his big hands on your body. 

“Fucking perfect,” he praised, his eyes hooded as his hands slid around to grip your ass gently.

You moaned loudly, holding onto his shoulders as you rolled your hips against his as best as you could with your bump persistently brushing against his stomach. “Fuck,” you whimpered, arching your back a bit and making your chest press right up against his. “Oh fuck, Rafe, you feel so good.” 

He felt so good, you were powerless to stop the loud moans from leaving your mouth as you rode him. Rafe’s hands slid up your back and fumbled with the clasp of your bra before he pulled the fabric away from your body, his palms immediately roaming over the newly exposed skin. “Fuck, babygirl, you’re so tight and wet for me. Sweet pussy was made for my cock,” he grunted, rolling your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled under his touch. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Then he was leaning in and kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against yours as he met your bounces with upward thrusts of his hips. You moaned against his mouth, his words making your body heat up in a blush. You’d never get tired of hearing him say things like that. 

His hands moved to your belly, and he caressed it as he broke the kiss and buried his face against your shoulder. “God, you feel so good,” he moaned, making your blush deepen as you moved a little faster and a bit harder.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt your thighs start to burn from over-exertion. “Oh, fuck…I’m gonna cum.” you warned, feeling the knot that had been steadily building up inside you start to tighten. 

Rafe grunted, reaching in between your bodies until the heel of his hand was pressed firmly against the underside of your belly and his fingers were brushing against your clit. “Yeah, cum for me, baby,” he murmured, his other hand moving to your hip as he guided you to take him a little harder. “I’m close too.”

His fingers pushed you over the edge, and your head fell forward onto his shoulder as you came for him. A cry left your lips as you weakly bounced on his lap, your legs shaking a bit as you pulled on his hair. “Fuck,” you gasped, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as you felt him thrust a few more times before he stilled.

A deep groan left the back of his throat as he held you close to him, his warmth filling you up from the inside out as he let out harsh pants against the side of your neck. “I’ll never get over that,” he muttered, placing soft kisses along your shoulder as he ran his hands up and down your back. “I’ll never get over you.”

You grinned as he gently eased you off him and moved back on the bed, taking you with him as he leaned back against the pillows. “Good,” you hummed as he turned you around and spooned you from behind. “Because I think you’re stuck with me for life.”

When you guided his big palm to rest on your belly, Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head as his thumb rubbed along your swollen skin. “Good,” he echoed. “Because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. You’re all I want in the world.”

A lazy smile formed on your lips as you snuggled back against him, and only a few seconds later, you had fallen asleep.

-

Not me working on my birthday again...thanks for reading x

[stainapologists]

Kowalsmith fucking SUCKS and that's half the appeal. I do not understand the urge to redeem Gary that a lot of people seem to have. He's an asshole and I need Pete to dump his ass.

[pastelclovds]

hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

[webbluvrsugar]

is this too freaky? ykw if you could just roll w it as a prompt i will give you my first born child.

ethan’s the type of guy to be an absolutely stuttering mess when he’s with you in public and then when he’s fucking you he puts his hand on your abdomen and says “feel me all up in your guts”

— 🦚

a/n: deffo not too freaky, this hit just the spot!! I think this is the most accurate headcanon about Ethan <33

proofread

﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆. ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭ Ethan hides his true nature from everybody else..

His friends don’t get it. They don’t get how you ended up dating a dork like Ethan, specially not one that can’t hold a simple conversation with you, but this ‘thing’ you have with him has lasted a couple months and they’re starting to actually believe you’re not fooling around with the boy, it’s weird to believe so, Ethan is just so… bland, and not to shame him or anything but they can’t help but wonder how you two work it out in the bedroom, it’s weird as hell, they wonder if you’ve even got to that base yet.

Ethan doesn’t like his private life to be out there for everyone to hear so when they do ask.. he just ignores their question with an angry mutter.

You’ve also thought this would never go anywhere, specially with not how Ethan acted around you in public — sure, he was cute, blushed every time you asked him anything, even if just a pen, and if you were thinking before, you’d never believe you’d get with a guy that acts that away. That is until… you’ve finally took the first step.

You were already kissing him when it happened, your hand wildly moving down to his pants, slipping underneath his shorts when he doesn’t complain, palming him through his boxers. His moves got wilder too, his hand went up to your throat and he used that to push you down on your bed, after that, Ethan showed a side of him you’ve never seen before.

You predicted he was a virgin or something, that you would have to guide him somehow — that plan went down the drain when he didn’t hesitate to pull down your panties and fuck you exactly how you wanted him to.

“Shit, Ethan, I —“ you moan, interrupting yourself as he leans down, the sudden movement makes him switch angles, reaching that spot in you that makes you lose all senses.

“You like it like this, huh?” He smirks, one of his hands caresses your face while the other one goes down from your chest to your stomach. “Yeah, I knew it, don’t worry baby, I’ll give it to you the way you wan’it.”

He pecks your lips, slows down his pace torturously, you can almost feel every inch coming in and out as he does so.

“Can you feel it?” He presses his hand down, right on your stomach, earns an exasperated mewl from you. “‘M all up in your guts.”

You’d never expect this from him, specially not the way he talks, the way he’s just so.. bold.

“Fuuck, you’re so tight,” he comments, releases the pressure on your stomach and moves his thumb down to your clit. “Almost made me cum inside you.”

He’s so casual with it, like the chance of him doing so doesn’t just fuck with your head even more.

“But I bet you’d like that, huh?”

[p0orbaby]

Reader being Beth Mead’s little sister & is dating Leah. Beth finding them in a compromising position/situation (shagging) 🤣🤣 feel like this would make a funny story

-

Beth has always been overprotective. It’s in her nature, like her knack for nutmegging defenders or her inexplicable hatred of pineapple on pizza. Growing up, you couldn’t so much as look at someone without Beth launching into her overbearing big-sister routine: “Who’s that? What do they want? Do I need to have a word?”

So naturally, when you start dating Leah Williamson—her teammate and captain of England—you make a pact with her to keep it under wraps for a bit. Just until Beth gets used to the idea.

That was six months ago.

Which explains why you’re currently in Beth’s spare room, shirt on the floor, Leah’s hair sticking to her face, and your brain short-circuiting as the door slams open.

“What the actual fuck?” Beth’s voice slices through the air like a referee’s whistle.

“Beth!” you shriek, scrambling for the duvet, which is already half-tangled around Leah.

“Mead-o,” Leah starts, holding up her hands like she’s negotiating a hostage situation, except she’s also very much topless. “I can explain—”

“Explain what?!” Beth snaps, her face a mix of outrage and something dangerously close to amusement. “Why you’re shagging my little sister in my house?”

“This isn’t—” you start, but you’re not even sure where that sentence is going.

“This isn’t what?” Beth interrupts, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that infuriatingly smug way she’s perfected over the years. “What it looks like? Because it looks like my friend is banging my sister on my spare bed”

Leah winces. “Don’t say ‘banging’”

“Sorry. Would you prefer I say ‘fornicating’? ‘Getting it on’? ‘Knocking boots’?”

“Beth!” you yell, throwing a pillow at her, which she bats away with infuriating ease.

The room falls into a horrifically awkward silence. You can hear Leah’s breathing beside you, shallow and uneven, and somewhere in the distance, the hum of Beth’s washing machine hitting its spin cycle.

“How long?” Beth finally asks, her tone softer now but no less accusatory.

“Six months,” Leah admits, sitting up and grabbing her shirt from the floor. “We were going to tell you—”

“Oh, were you?” Beth cuts her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Before or after I walked in on this absolute nightmare?”

“Can you not call my love life a nightmare?” you snap, pulling on your own hoodie.

“Baby, it’s her love life now too,” Leah mutters under her breath, which earns her a withering glare from Beth.

Beth sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s trying to summon the strength not to kill either of you. “This is mental. Fucking mental”

“Beth, come on,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to her. “It’s not like we planned for you to walk in on us”

“Oh, that makes it better, does it?” Beth fires back, but her tone is losing its edge.

Leah stands, hands stuffed in her pockets, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever seen her. “Beth, look. I know this is… not ideal. But I love her. And I would never hurt her. You know that”

Beth stares at Leah for what feels like an eternity, then at you, then back at Leah. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But if I hear anything—”

“You won’t,” you both say in unison.

Beth shakes her head, muttering something about needing a drink, and leaves the room.

As the door closes, you collapse back onto the bed, groaning. “Well, that went well”

Leah snorts, climbing in beside you. “Could’ve been worse”

“How?”

“She could’ve filmed it for blackmail.”

You shove her, but you’re laughing now, the tension broken.

Later, when you’re all sitting around the kitchen table, Beth pours herself a very large glass of wine and declares, “For the record, I still think this is weird”

“Noted,” Leah says, raising her tea in mock salute.

“And don’t think this means I’m going easy on you at training,” Beth adds, pointing at Leah with a fork.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Leah replies, grinning.

And as deranged and mortifying as the whole thing was, you can’t help but feel relieved. Because if Beth didn’t truly care, she wouldn’t be sitting here, threatening Leah with a fork.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for yelling at my sister for being disgusting?

I (19M) have been dating my boyfriend (20M) for 6 months now. I currently live at home with my mom (50F) and my sister (15F) while I'm at a local college.

My boyfriend, obviously, is gay. We are both gay. My mom was supportive when I came out and my sister was too.

When I started dating my boyfriend (Kev), my sister got a little obsessed with him. It just seemed like a weird teenage sister thing at the time, but it turns out according to my mom that she actually has a crush on him. Which... weird, but again, a little sister thing. It's not going anywhere. I've told Kev about it and he thinks it's a little uncomfortable, but he can deal with it. If she kept it to herself I wouldn't mind it, but she fucking doesn't. She constantly wants to hang out with us whenever he's over, never giving us a moment's peace.

Last time Kev was here, we were in my room and she walked in on us making out (without knocking, btw :/) and huffed before slamming the door. After he left a few hours later, she came into my room again to talk to me.

She proceeded to tell me, to my absolute fucking shock, that Kev wasn't gay and I was abusing him by not letting him leave me. I didn't even know what to say, so I just asked her what made her think he wasn't. She said he was obviously into her instead and was using me to see her.

I completely fucking lost it. Months of borderline harassment towards my boyfriend and that's fucking why? I told her that her creeping on him and making him feel uncomfortable didn't count as interest, and that she was a horrible person and an awful sister. I told her to stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, and if she ever brings him up again I'll kick her ass.

She started crying and ran off into her room, but I don't fucking care. I'm sick of having to act like she never does anything wrong. She essentially called my boyfriend a fucking pedophile and called me an abuser. I'm sick of it.

My mom said Kev isn't allowed back at our place until I apologize to my sister. I said good, I don't want my creep of a sister around him, and we can just hang out at his apartment anyway. I'm spending pretty much all my time at school and his place. As time passes though, I keep wondering if I overreacted. She's 15 but it's still so disgusting. I just couldn't take it anymore.

AITA?

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the setup of a slow burn between you and ellie.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.7k

so... this actually started out as NOTHING. i planned for it to be nothing. just me, my pages app and my love for jackson!ellie & that fuck ass hoodie against the world. howeverrrr i may or may not have written almost 10k so far that i'm planning to split up (and continue) into an ongoing series just focusing on you and ellie living in jackson, spending time with your friends, slowly falling in love. real piners rise

god i just love jackson ellie so much. her little nerdy cocky self

the idea of being friends and pining over each other for literal years because you’re both too scared to say anything… catching the other staring, having a few little moments here and there but chalking it up to nothing because you both don’t believe the other would see you like that.

and then she starts dating cat and you’re just like welp. guess this is really never ever gonna happen after all. you let yourself mope for a while, not wanting to go out as much for fear of seeing them together and feeling that strange pang in your chest — just overall being weird and avoiding ellie. you feel silly, really, locking yourself away and listening to sad music over someone you were never even with.

you selfishly hope it doesn’t last long, that it’s just a fling, but when months go by and they’re still together, you come to some sort of acceptance. you even date someone else for a short while to try and take your mind off of her, but quickly realize you’re just searching for scattered parts of her in someone else. and something in your gut tells you that while nothing’s wrong within the relationship, it just doesn’t feel right. doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.

meanwhile, ellie’s mindset was that she never really saw you as attainable in the first place. and she did genuinely really like cat, so when she initiated the relationship, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see where it went. you were always at the back of her mind, though. she didn’t like the way you’d distanced yourself. you were never best friends, but definitely fairly close. she felt the switch almost overnight, the way you stopped going out of your way to talk to her, stopped asking her to tag along when you'd hang out with jesse and dina. she didn’t know what your deal was. the thought that you might be jealous did cross her mind, but she quickly swatted it away. why would you be jealous? it’s only her.

when you started seeing someone yourself, it was like confirmation. nothing was ever gonna happen, you weren’t jealous; how could any of that be the case when you were right there, with someone else? she cursed herself for even thinking about any of it, guilty conscience thick when her mind would then turn to cat. she knew she shouldn’t be deliberating whether you were jealous, whether you liked her, whether anything could ever happen between you, when she had a girlfriend.

she tried her hardest to push you out of her mind whenever you’d arise. she still saw you around, sometimes alone, sometimes with your girlfriend. you’d talk pleasantly, share a few laughs, but it wasn’t like it used to be.

and then one day, when she’s on her way home, she sees you by yourself. you’re sitting under a tree reading, headphones in. she can’t help but notice you look a little melancholy, like you don’t want to be bothered. she deliberates on whether to disturb you or not, stopping, then going to walk away, then stopping again. against her better judgement, she wanders over to you and nudges you gently with the side of her foot.

you look up, offering a small smile and tugging your headphones out. “hey.”

“hey.” ellie mirrors you, shooting back a soft smile of her own. a beat of slightly awkward silence passes as she tries to think of the reason she actually came over. she doesn’t even have one.

“what’s up?” you ask after a few seconds.

“uh… not much. just… uh… wanted to say hi.”

the corner of your mouth quirks into a slight smirk. “well… you just did.”

ellie breathes out a quiet chuckle, bringing her hands together to mess with her fingers. “very funny.” she pauses, then hesitantly crouches and sits beside you. “whatcha reading?”

you turn the cover so that she can see it. “mystery book,” you say, eyes flitting between ellie and the novel, before you rest it back in your lap, starting to lightly read again.

“you want me to tell you who the killer is?”

you chuckle, looking back up at ellie. “sure, take a stab at it.”

ellie’s eyebrows raise slightly. “pun intended?”

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow as you realize what you just said. “nope. guess i’m just too witty.”

she looks down and smiles lightly, before looking up at the sky in feigned thought. she clicks her fingers. “it’s the priest.”

you let out a laugh. “there isn’t even a priest in it.”

“that’s what you think,” she quips back, feigning seriousness. “he will be introduced in… 43 pages.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “shut up.”

“nope. wanna hear some more of my predictions? 100% accuracy guaranteed.”

“sure.”

“… you’re in a shitty mood,” ellie says matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “seriously, you good? you look all…”

she trails off, gesturing at you slightly.

you chew at the inside of your cheek. truth be told, you are in a shitty mood, but you didn’t realize it was visible. plus, you don’t really want to talk about it. especially not to ellie, of all people. “yeah, nah, i’m fine.”

she just gives you a look in reply — one to say, ‘i’m not stupid’. to which, you let out a small sigh and shake your head. you’re not good at lying to ellie. “okay, i guess i may be in a… tiny bit of a slump.”

she shuffles a bit, leaning back on her hands. “why? what’s wrong?”

you pick at your nail, pausing. “i don’t know, man. just… yeah. stuff.”

“what kinda stuff?”

you curse her in your head for pushing, but simultaneously feel a pulse in your chest that she cares. you don’t particularly want to talk to ellie about your relationship. or lack thereof. it feels embarrassing, for some reason. in the end, you let out a small, defeated sigh. “ugh. just… so… i’m not with you-know-who anymore.”

ellie raises her eyebrows, trying to ignore the way she feels selfish relief. “damn. that sucks.”

you shrug. “i suppose so.”

another awkward pause occurs as ellie tries to think of what to say. comforting people has never really been her forte, but she wants to try for you. plus, she’s curious. “…wh-what happened?”

you look up, eyes flitting around the scenery, pulling a small face as you think. “nothing, really. just… wasn’t working. like… didn’t really feel right, y’know?”

she quirks an eyebrow, looking sideways at you. “so it was you, huh?”

you let out something between a breathed out chuckle and a groan. “…yeah. i felt really mean.”

“damn. you’re ruthless. heartbreaker,” she teases deadpan in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

to which, you roll your eyes and snicker, the smile lingering on your face. even in the worst mood, you’d noticed, ellie could always make you laugh somehow. “shut up. it wasn’t like that.”

“then what was it like?”

you shrug lightly, toying with the cover of your book. “i don’t know. went as best as it could, i suppose. i have nothing against her, nothing happened, it just… yeah. like i said. wasn’t right.”

ellie hums in acknowledgment, looking away in thought. her silence feels a little uncomfortable, driving you to babble on. “i don’t know, she’s nice and everything, but it just felt like we were kind of… wasting each other’s time. i didn’t see it actually going anywhere. i know we’re still young, and… y’know, it’s hardly like we have to marry each other or whatever. but something just felt missing. i don’t know.”

you glance at ellie briefly, then back down at your book, tracing the cover art with your fingertip. “like… you and cat. you guys seem happy. what does that feel like?”

she feels a little taken off guard. she’s not used to talking about this with anyone; anyway, nobody’s ever really asked. she shifts, sitting cross legged and leaning her forearms on her thighs, messing with her hands. “uh… i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

you furrow your eyebrows slightly. not really the reaction you were expecting. “oof. what does that mean?”

ellie lets out a drawn out hum, wrinkling her chin. “… i don’t know. i suppose it just feels… hm. it’s just… what it is. i guess.”

you pull a face, blowing air through your nose. “wow. don’t get too sappy on me, now. you’re gushing.”

her eyes roll in response to your sarcasm, a lopsided smirk on her face. “shut up.”

you mirror her smile, meeting her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shove down the way it burns a hole through you, makes your chest feel like it’s constricting.

the moment is broken by a call of ellie’s name. you both automatically look up, spotting cat strolling over with a bright smile on her face. 

“speak of the devil,” you murmur jokingly, turning to look back at ellie briefly.

she scoffs in response, moving to stand up. when cat presses a small kiss to her lips in greeting, resting a hand on her arm, you avert your eyes.

cat looks down at you, offering a soft smile and a wave. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, looking back up. you did really like cat. you weren’t necessarily friends, but she was cool, and funny, and always nice to you. you flit your eyes between her and ellie as she turns back, addressing her girlfriend.

“i was on my way to yours. we still watching a movie tonight?”

ellie looks down at you, then back at cat, an unreadable expression on her face. “uh… yeah, yeah. for sure.”

cat smiles at ellie, taking her hand and lightly swinging it between them. “… well, we’ll leave you to it,” she says to you.

you nod slowly. “yup. catch you two later.”

you wave half-heartedly at them both as they walk away hand-in-hand, free hands returning the gesture. you busy yourself with putting your headphones back in and choosing a new song, but if you were looking up, you’d have seen ellie look back at you. twice.

[alessiasfreckles]

fantasies (alessia russo x reader)

inspired by this ask i got ages ago about lessi's favourite way to get off and her go to content - it's not quite that but hopefully it's close enough x

warnings: SMUT 18+, masturbation, facetime sex, praise kink, top!lessi, bottom!reader

------

Alessia had never been one for porn. Yeah, she’d watched it here and there in particularly, ahem, dry periods, but it just didn’t really do it for her. No, what she preferred was, well… it was you. 

Before you two started dating, she’d feel guilty sometimes, the way you popped into her head when she was getting off. The first few times, she’d freeze in place, willing her brain to picture something other than you in the changing room before practice, what you’d look like in the shower, or underneath her in bed. 

“Fuck,” she’d whisper to herself, face red. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Y/N doesn’t- she isn’t- fuck.”

Those first few times, she was too frustrated and embarrassed to keep going. But then you just kept appearing, the next time and the next, and after the way you’d giggled at her joke and smiled at her that day she couldn’t help but keep going, despite the guilt she felt about it.

She told you about it when you were in bed one night, a month or so after you’d started seeing each other.

“I- I have a confession,” she said, voice unusually shy. 

You rolled over from your position as the little spoon to look at her in surprise. “Yeah?”

She nodded. Even in the dim light, you could see the flush rising to her cheeks. 

“I, um, ithinkaboutyouwhenigetoffsometimes. Most times,” the words fell from her mouth in one quick breath, as if they’d been pushed out.

You let out a laugh, and she frowned slightly. “Lessi, babe, I’m not going to lie, I have no idea what you just said. One more time, a little slower?”

The blonde bit her lip. “Okay, I, I think about you, um, when I get off sometimes, well, most times.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. This was what she was so worried about telling you? “I mean, I kinda hoped so? I’m not giving you all this for nothing,” you winked, shaking your hips with a grin. 

“No, I mean- I already used to think about you. Before we…” she ducked her head, not wanting to look you in the eye.

“Oh,” you said again, softer this time. “You did?”

She nodded again. “I’m sorry, I know it’s weird, I just-”

“Hey, no, it’s okay! I promise.” you sat up in bed and reached out, your hand soft against her cheek, encouraging her to look at you. “It’s not weird. It’s normal to fantasise about people.”

“I know, I- it just felt different this time. With you,” Alessia admitted. “But you- you don’t mind?”

“No!” you quickly reassured her. “No, not at all. God, if anything, I’m going to be riding this ego boost for months.”

She smiled at that, and you breathed a small sigh of relief at the sight. 

With a sly smile, you nudged her. “Well, now I want to hear more about these fantasies of yours. Maybe we can even recreate one or two of them, what do you think?”

Her demeanour changed as she smirked, pushing you down so she could hover above you, her hands pinning yours to the mattress. “Sounds good to me, baby.”

-----

These days, Alessia had absolutely no qualms about fantasising about you (though she much preferred the real thing). She liked to tell you about it, teasing you when she had a day off but you didn’t, sending you messages when she knew you were in the gym. She liked knowing that she was riling you up, that by the time you got home, you’d be desperate for her touch, wasting no time in taking your clothes off for her. 

And because you were never far, she would usually wait to actually get off until you were there. It just wasn’t as good as touching you, tasting you, seeing you. 

Well, you usually weren’t far. 

Until now. 

[Lessi]: Miss you x

[Y/N]: i miss you too baby x

You were away for a few days, a company that sponsored you had flown you out to Paris for a photo and video shoot with some other athletes. They’d put you up in a nice hotel, but there was a game at the weekend and Alessia had to stay behind. You’d been so busy all day that you’d barely had time to check your phone. Still, you were rarely apart for this long, and part of you ached at the empty space by your side.

Alessia knew you were busy. It was only mid-afternoon, and you’d told her the shoot was supposed to go on until evening. She knew she could message you, tease you, but you were working and she didn’t want to distract you - not too much, at least. Plus, teasing you wasn’t anywhere near as fun when she couldn’t see the effects of her teasing when you got home.

Her leg bounced as she sat on the sofa, the TV playing in the background. Her phone buzzed in her hand with an alert from Instagram, saying that you’d uploaded something to your close friends story. She smiled when she opened it - it was a mirror selfie, you in a crop top and shorts, with the caption ‘do you think they’ll notice if i just take these home with me?’. Her eyes lingered on your bare stomach, your thighs, your hips. The shorts weren’t particularly tight or revealing, but she knew what you looked like underneath. 

She shifted in place, warmth pooling in her stomach. With a sigh, she closed Instagram and opened her gallery, scrolling down to the hidden folder at the bottom. She wanted you, wanted to touch you, feel you, but… this would do, for now. 

She opened the folder to dozens, if not hundreds, of pictures. Pictures you’d sent her, pictures she’d taken of you, pictures of both of you. At first, she wasn’t even looking for anything specific, just wanted to look at you.

Stopping on a picture you’d sent her early on, her breath caught in her throat. You were just so pretty, in the lingerie you’d bought just to wear for her, the fabric hugging your body, the dark red complementing your soft skin. She bit her lip, hand slipping below the waistline of her joggers as her eyes traced the curve of your body, idly stroking herself over her underwear.

She kept scrolling, this time stopping on a picture she’d taken of you on holiday a few months ago. It was you, in bed, from the hips up, with Alessia’s thighs just visible on either side of your waist. The light was low, but she could still see the bite marks and bruises she’d left along your neck and your bare chest. You were smiling at the camera- no, you were smiling at her, your eyes looking just above the camera, and she felt an overwhelming rush of love flood through her. 

She could feel that she was getting wet, a damp patch forming on her underwear, and as she pushed the fabric aside, her phone buzzed.

[Meado]: Want to come over for dinner? Viv’s convinced you’re just sat at home moping because Y/N isn’t there

[Meado]: Wait I bet you are just sat around moping aren’t you

[Meado]: Gay

Alessia rolled her eyes, pulling her hand out of her joggers. 

[Lessi]: Am not

[Lessi]: Fine but only because I want to see Myle and Viv

[Lessi]: Be there in 20

-----

By the time you got back to the hotel, it was dark outside. The shoot was fun but tiring, and you felt out of your comfort zone, especially since you didn’t really know any of the other athletes there. 

You sent Alessia a quick selfie as you brushed your teeth and got ready for bed, wondering what the blonde was up to. The hotel bed was comfy, but it felt so empty alone, and you sat in silence for a minute, not sure what to do with yourself.

The quiet was broken by your phone vibrating obnoxiously on the bedside table, the harsh sound making you jump. You smiled when you saw the name on the facetime request, picking up immediately.

“Hi!” you said, half-whispering.

“Hey, baby,” Alessia grinned. She was in bed too, and you felt a pang of homesickness at the sight. “Why are you whispering?”

“Oh,” you laughed. “I dunno. I didn’t even realise.”

She let out a soft laugh at that, smiling fondly. “How are you? How was the shoot? I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you sighed. “I’m okay, just tired. The shoot was good, we did all the photos today and then we’re filming any video content tomorrow. Some promo videos and some group questions and games, I think.”

She whistled, raising an eyebrow. “My girl, the model,” she smirked. “I liked the picture you posted earlier. You looked good.”

You blushed. “How are you? What did you get up to today?”

“I’m okay,” she shrugged. “Training, obviously, then I hung out at home for a bit and then went to Beth’s and Viv’s for dinner. Apparently, Viv thought I’d just be sat at home alone, moping.”

“And, were you?” you asked with a grin.

“Well…” the blonde looked smug. “I wasn’t moping.”

“No?”

“No, I was having a little more fun than that,” she said, smiling wolfishly. 

“Oh,” you stammered, feeling blood rise to your cheeks and warmth pooling in your core. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “I was looking at pictures of you. You in that red lingerie, remember those?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

“You look so pretty in those pictures, baby. In that lingerie, like a present, waiting for me to take off the wrapping paper,” Alessia’s voice was low, teasing, as she waited for your response.

“I- um, I-,” you were too flustered to form a sentence. It wasn’t that it was unusual for Alessia to talk to you like this, far from it, but you hadn’t really done it like this before, on the phone or on a video call. 

“You wanna hear more?” she asked, laughing when you started nodding before she’d even finished the question. “Then I was looking at the pictures I took of you a couple months ago, when we went to Greece, remember? From that one night, after we’d been at the beach all day and gone to that tiny bar in the evening, when you’d been teasing me, wearing that skimpy bikini, and that dress, the sheer one. Remember that night, baby? When I made you come, what, six times, I think?”

You swallowed. “Uh-huh,” you said softly. You remembered the way her fingers had pressed into your hips when she pushed you to the bed, the hunger in her eyes as she took off your dress. The feeling of her mouth on your clit, her fingers sliding inside you, filling you up, making you gasp and moan and beg. Your first orgasm that night crashing through you, the sound of Alessia’s voice as she gently told you ‘Just one more, for me? You can take another, can’t you baby?’.

Even through the slightly pixelated video, you could see Alessia’s eyes watching you, dark with lust, and you knew she was thinking about the same things.

Shifting in place, increasingly aware of the warmth between your legs, you let out a small whine. “Lessi, this isn’t fair.”

“Aw, why not, baby?” she asked, voice nonchalant, and you whined again.

“Because- because I want you to touch me, and you’re there and I’m here!” you sputtered, frustrated. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, then sighed. “Guess we better just go to bed then.”

“Wha- no! That’s not what I meant!” you insisted, unable to ignore the way your clit was throbbing, aching to be touched.

“No?” she asked, smirking.

“No,” you huffed.

“Well, since I can’t touch you, I guess you’ll just have to do it yourself, won’t you?” the blonde said with a shrug. “Do you wanna do that for me, baby?”

You felt your face flush even more but nodded, biting your lip. 

Alessia felt a flutter of relief in her chest. Even though she knew you’d agree to the idea, a small part of her had still been nervous about asking. You couldn’t see it on the call, but her hand had worked its way down her body, easily sliding beneath her underwear, one finger lazily circling her clit.

Unknowingly, you mirrored her actions, and the gasp you let out when you touched the arousal pooled between your legs alerted her to what you were doing.

“Can you tell me what you’re doing, baby?” she asked softly.

“I- um, I’m touching myself,” you said, voice shy and quiet. 

“Yeah? Can you tell me how?”

“I’m touching my clit,” you told her. “It, it feels good.” 

“Good girl,” she said, letting out a sigh. You realised that she was touching herself too, the way you were. It sent a jolt to your core, and you had to bite back a moan at the thought, imagining her lying there, touching herself to the thought of you.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “What- what are you thinking about?”

“I thought I was the one leading this,” she grinned, but laid back, her eyes fluttering closed. “I’m thinking about you, baby. Thinking about what I’d do if you were here, how I’d touch you. How pretty you’d look between my legs.”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, rubbing your clit faster. You almost wished you’d brought some toys with you, but you hadn’t expected your trip to go like this. Alessia’s fingers slipped further, dipping between her legs, her breath catching, and you watched her throat bob as she swallowed. When you moaned, her eyes opened, raking over your flushed face, your bottom lip red from how hard you’d been biting it to try and stay quiet.

“I want you to touch yourself how I touch you,” she said, her voice quiet but confident. “The way I fuck you. Imagine it’s my fingers inside you.”

Whimpering, you did as she asked, two fingers easily sliding inside your throbbing core. Your back arched at the sensation, head falling back, and Alessia let out a moan as she watched. 

“You’re doin’ so well for me, baby,” she murmured. “Wish I was there with you, wish I could touch you, feel how wet you are. Bet you’re takin’ those fingers so easily, aren’t you, baby?”

You nodded, eyes closed as you pictured Alessia touching you. She watched as your brow furrowed slightly, a telltale sign that you were getting close. She was getting close too, the circles on her clit getting faster as she watched you get yourself off to the thought of her.

“I bet you’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now,” her voice was breathy as she tried not to give away how close she was getting, wanting to focus on you. “Let me fuck you however I wanted, as long as you get to come at the end, isn’t that right, pretty girl? I think you should add another finger.”

You let out a broken moan as you fucked yourself, the third finger sliding in just as easily as the other two. Your fingers didn’t feel as good as hers - hers were longer, made you feel more full - but they’d do. The way you stretched around your fingers felt so good you could cry, and as you got closer to the edge you propped your phone up against the other pillow, using the hand that had been holding the phone to rub your clit.

“Fuck, you look so good, doing whatever I ask you to,” she moaned, biting back a whine of her own as she tried to fight off her rapidly approaching orgasm. She wanted you to come first, wanted to see you unravel, watch the tension leave your face. “You close, baby?”

“Y- yeah, ‘m close, I- fuck, Lessi, baby, please,” you babbled, too far gone to think straight, desperate for relief. 

“Okay, darling, since you asked so nicely, can you come for me?” she asked, and watched, enraptured, as you came, back arching, mouth open in a silent gasp as your core clenched around your fingers. She swore under her breath, and you opened your eyes just in time to see her sink into the bed, her body tensing then relaxing as she came, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that she’d gotten off watching you, thinking about you.

“Fuck,” you said, voice hoarse. “That was… fuck.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Not as good as the real thing, though,” you giggled, and she grinned.

“No, definitely not. Guess we’ll just have to have round two when you get home, eh?”

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “i’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. / “…mhmm.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: satoru gojo/f!reader, mild sukuna/reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 6.25k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: college au, fem reader, fuckboy satoru, protected sex ( wrap it up cumsluts ), jealousy, attempted hand-holding, brief nanami cameo, satoru gets hard attached and then is O.O when reader is like ‘nah imma dip now’, slight angst, unrequited love, previously established relationship ( just not w gojo 💀💀 ), cheating ( by reader ), bf sukuna.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: hmmm gojo’s not suffered enough, let’s do THIS 👹👹

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 

All he had to do was ask a simple girl in his Philosophy course out so he could take her home and sleep with her. He’d never asked any of the girls in his Philosophy course out, though, so he was a little hesitant. As odd as it would seem, he enjoyed this class, and he didn’t want anything awkward to happen — which was why Suguru had directed him your way. 

‘“She won’t make it weird,”’ he’d said, though how he’d known when Satoru knew every person that his best friend had ever slept with ( and you had not been one of them ) was beyond him. 

Remember, he thinks to himself, glancing over at you a few times in a way he thinks isn’t noticeable, She’s gonna fall all over you, just like all the others, as soon as you ask her out. Easy lay. 

And he wasn’t nervous. 

Class ends, and he waits for everyone to make their way out. From experience over the last semester and a half, you were one of the last people to leave, taking your time considering you didn’t have any more courses after this one ended at noon on Tuesdays until 5pm. Once only a few stragglers are left, he grabs his books and saunters over, plastering on one of his most breathtaking grins ( if he did say so himself ), then leaning against your desk. You don’t look at him, blatant disinterest emanating off of you, but he forges forward. 

“So… I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” he asks, preening over how quick all the past yeses came. Men and women fell all over him like water rolls over stone in riverbeds, 

“No.”

“Great, I was thinking maybe that new Italian joint—,” Satoru pauses. Blinks. Registers your words. “…What?”

“No. Is a two letter word so difficult for you to understand?” Satoru is… shocked, for lack of a better word. He’d never actually been told no before. 

“But… why?” His question is whinier than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You narrow your eyes up at him. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you — but if you must know, I  go on dates with the man I intend to be in a relationship with,” you say honestly, and Satoru fights back a snort. “I don’t date someone who’s only  good for a quick fucking session.”

“I’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. 

“…Mhmm,” is your only reply, and he pouts. You go back to finishing up, and he thinks for a moment, drumming his fingers against the surface of your desk before shrugging. 

“Interested in hooking up, then?” he asks, and you glance up at him questioningly. “We don’t have to date, we could just have sex.” Not that you’d want to keep him as ‘just a fuckbuddy’ for too long, Satoru thinks. 

You hum softly, seeming to think it over, then give a slight nod. “Sure, we can fuck,” you say with a lazy shrug, then sigh. “But no feelings. I’m not interested, especially not with someone who has a reputation like yours.”

“You say that now, but you’re gonna be beggin’ for me to be your boyfriend,” Satoru chuckles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply, sounding amused as you cross your arms, and without missing a beat he waggles his eyebrows at you, and you raise one of your own. “What?”

“Wanna get started on this friends-with-benefits thing now? My car’s in the parking lot,” he grins, and you look completely unimpressed. 

You resume picking up your notebooks and textbook, shoving them in your backpack and steadfastly refusing to look at his goofy expression. “I’m not fucking in your dirty-ass backseat,” you reply grumpily. “I might catch something.”

“I’ll have you know my car is amazing and clean and perfect,” Satoru retorts, acting as if his feelings are hurt, and you scoff. 

“Not with you as a driver. Didn’t you hit a sorority mailbox last month?”

He’s silent for a moment. “We’re in philosophy class, you know. Most philosophers say that it’s ‘unwise to root yourself in the past’.”

You just blink at him, then roll your eyes again and slide your laptop into your bag. “That alone tells me everything I need to know.”

“Y’know, you’re really mean,” he pouts, and you have to fight off the urge to smile. Sometimes he was amusing, even though you didn’t want to admit it. 

“I know. It’s one of my best traits,” you reply, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “See you in class.”

One week later, Gojo finally picks you up — that is, your shared Philosophy course ends and you both head to his car. You’ve both tossed your bags in the back and are sitting in the drive-through of a fast food place waiting on your coffees with you tapping away at your phone while he hands his card through the window so he can pay for the drinks you’d gotten along with his own. 

He pulls forward after getting his card back, then brightens a little as he remembered the question he’d wanted to ask before he’d forgotten after asking if you wanted a drink. 

“Do you want to type your address into my GPS so we can—“ Satoru starts, and his eyes widen when you interrupt him almost immediately. 

“Not at my place. Never at my place, Gojo,” you snap, and he nods almost dumbly. He’d not expected you to be so stern about it, nor for you to deny him heading to your apartment or house or whatever ( especially considering his hookups typically didn’t care as long as they ended up with him in their bed. In the back of his mind an alarm bell rings, but he dumbly chose to ignore it. 

“That’s — That’s fine, no problem, we can go to my place,” he replies, pushing a fake grin on his face. He watches you visibly relax back into the passenger seat, and relaxes himself before pulling up to the second window and taking your drinks. He hands you your drink then pulls away while sipping at his own Diet Coke, glancing at you every now and then as he drives back to his apartment rather than wherever you lived. 

Part of him was nervous; he never really ever brought hookups back to his apartment — hell, he’d only brought like two of his prior girlfriends there, so this was a big break from his normal meet-up for sex. Still, he’d talked so much shit to Suguru when he’d said he’d manage to fuck you, so he couldn’t back out now. 

He’d taken out the trash yesterday, right?

He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment, easing into his spot and putting the car in park before taking a breath and leaning back. You aren’t paying him any attention, still in your phone apparently texting someone from what he could see from the corner of his eye, and once you’re done you lock your phone before turning your body to face him in his seat. 

You ask quietly, “Gojo… are you sure you want to do this?” and he pauses as he starts unclipping his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, of course! Why would I, uh — Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, nodding with a smile. You raise an eyebrow. 

“You’re acting nervous.” You deadpan, and he laughs. 

“Nervous? I’m not nervous! Let’s fuck, babe,” he says brightly, opening his car door and hopping out as you shrug and unclip your own belt. 

“…Don’t call me babe, but whatever. If you’re sure,” you say lazily, then add, “By the way, three of my friends know I came home with you, and I just dropped a location pin in a group chat, so… it’d be easier if you weren’t some creepo murderer.”

Satoru laughs again, this time actually amused. “That’s great, they’ll know the location of the best dick in Japan! Second floor.”

You scoff, but follow him up the stairs, stopping only as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and works on getting them in the lock. Eventually it pops into place, and you follow him inside, toeing off your shoes and following him quietly, eyeing him as he takes his loose coat off and tosses it on the back of his couch before following his lead to the bedroom. He lets you come in before turning to close the door, and is surprised when he turns and your shirt is already on the floor and you’re working on wiggling out of your tight skirt. 

“I — oh! Like to do the work yourself, huh?” He jokes, and you scoff through a playful smile. 

“Please. If we fuck and you just lay there, the entire campus will hear about it before midnight, I promise,” You reply. Satoru just grins. 

“Who says we’ll be done by midnight?” He asks cheekily, and you laugh again. 

“Gojo Satoru, it is two in the afternoon,” you say, and he laughs and starts unbuckling his belt. 

“And?” he purrs, tossing it aside and kicking his pants away after they pool around his ankles, leaving his boxers on as you kick off your own skirt, leaving you in a mismatched bra and underwear set. He’s discovered he much prefers you this way — almost naked and ready to joke around with him — rather than the way you were cold and quiet in class. You actually seemed human here, and he was starting to understand why Suguru had said you were easy to be around; Satoru had thought he was lying just to fuck with him, but apparently you were typically this way in the bedroom and at parties after a few drinks. It was an interesting thing about you to learn in all honesty. 

He presses his front to yours, wasting no time and dipping his head down to kiss you, mashing your lips together hard and his hands snake behind your back and unclip your bra at the same time that you slip the condom you’d taken out of your bra between your teeth and hook your thumbs in the waistband of his own underwear and push them down. He steps out of them as you stumble backwards towards his bed, leading him along before falling back with him on top of you, both of you still kissing. 

You start to unwrap the condom. “You’re a good kisser,” you mumble into his mouth, reaching one hand down to shimmy out of your panties while the other tangles itself in his hair, tugging lightly. Once they’re over the edge of the bed they fall to your ankles and you just step out of them, reaching between your bodies and slipping the condom down his shaft with an experienced sort of ease that faintly amused him.

“Why the tone of surprise?” Satoru laughs, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to kiss a line down your throat, savoring the area over your pulse point as you let out soft, happy sighs.

“Mmm, kinda thought you’d have loser dick — but like, a real loser, not the sexy kind,” you reply honestly, and Satoru would have been offended if he wasn’t so fucking horny. He just laughs against your hot skin  and keeps kissing, about to kneel when you tug him back up. “Don’t need your mouth on my cunt, need your cock in me,” you grunt, and Satoru barely chokes back the whimper that threatens to escape him. 

“G-Gotta — Gotta prep you,” he argues as you reach between your bodies and grip his dick in an almost too-perfect grip. 

“Prepped myself before class, and I’m plenty soaked,” you reply, pressing his head in. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the low groan that tumbles from his lips at the thought of you fingering open the hot cunt he was so close to, then sitting in class with him only a few seats away, ready and waiting for him to fill you. “Plus I enjoy the stretch. Don’t pussy out now, Gojo.”

“Stop calling me Gojo when I’m about to be balls deep in you,” Satoru growls, and you just laugh with a defiant glint in your eye. 

“You gotta earn me saying your first name, loser boy,” you taunt, and he narrows his eyes before bottoming out in one go, watching in satisfaction as your eyes widen and your pupils blow further all at once… then the feeling hits. 

“God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans, letting his head fall. “Fuckin’ hot too.”

“Don’t tell me slippin’ it in is gonna do it for you,” you whisper, and Satoru forces himself to pull out, his eyes squeezing shut at the perfect friction in the glide of his cock slipping out of you, before thrusting back in. 

He starts a steady pumping of his hips, taking you over the edge of the bed like a beast on its bitch at a breeding bench. He can feel your nails digging into his back and scalp and it makes him make a tight fist in the sheets, soft moans falling from his mouth as he fucks into you desperately. 

“F-Fuck — Oh god, Satoru, you fucking bastard-!” you moan, holding tight as he ruts into you, and he laughs breathlessly through a moan of his own. 

“E-Earned it already?” he asks playfully, and you laugh through a moan yourself. 

“Again, thought you were a real loser. Now shut up and keep fucking me,” your words come out in a low purr as you toss one arm around his neck, amd he busies himself with doing as told, not bothered by taking a command to fuck your willing body like this. 

Soft groans of your name and his coupled with cursing and cries for God fill the room as the two of you fuck, your sweat and precum smearing across both of your bodies as you both get closer and closer to orgasm. “C’mon, just like that — gonna cum, gonna cum!” you whisper, and Satoru presses closer and keeps his pace and position the same, listening to the way your voice pitches. He’s been on the verge of cumming himself for the past fifteen minutes, but he’d be damned if he came before you the first time the two of you fucked — not when you still somehow thought he was a loser. 

“Cum for me, babe, cum for me—“ he half-begs lowly, and you huff through a moan. 

“What did I — did I say about calling me babe?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

“Sorry, sweetheart — God, please, just fucking cum already!”

You laugh a little, a laugh that breaks apart like brittle ice at the end as your pussy starts clenching tightly around his cock and you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck — fuck, fuck — fuckfuckfuck, cumming-!”

Satoru’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him, and the sounds of your cries as you cum around have his own falling from his lips as he fills the condom wrapped around his cock and you slowly relax completely into the bed, unmoving aside from a couple stray twitches and a lazy hand against his chest to get him off of you. He falls bonelessly onto the bed next to you, tugging the condom off and tossing it into the trash can by his bed before returning to letting his legs dangle off of the side of bed with his feet flat against the floor like yours. 

He waits a moment, enjoying the silence between you both before asking, “Well?”

You make a confused noise and turn to look at him. “Well what?” you ask, amd he chuckles. 

“Am I a loser?” he asks cheekily, and you laugh brightly. 

“Oh, definitely. Big loser energy from you, Satoru,” you reply. 

“What?!” he exclaims, turning onto his side to look at you head on, and you laugh again and nod as you sit up and stretch with your arms over your head. 

“Yep. But hey — you’re a loser with good dick,” you offer, standing on slightly wobbly legs, and start to get dressed. 

“What a comfort,” he mutters, acting annoyed, and you see through it just as he knew you would. 

“It should be,” you reply, zipping up your skirt then putting on the shirt you’d thrown over your forearm. “See you later, loser. My ride’s outside.”

Satoru’s quiet for a second, unused to girls just leaving, much less having already called cars to wait for them outside while he fucks them, “…Yeah, later…” And you’re out the door in less than five minutes with nothing but a wave and a yawn.

After a moment he stands and makes his way into the kitchen, peeping out the window to see you climb into the passenger side of a car driven by someone with short pink hair. He sighs. 

The sex was good — but today did not go like he’d expected. 

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 dropped a pin!

meet me at starbucks

i’m getting a coffee

then we can fuck or wtv

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌

why r u getting coffee at 9pm

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌

don’t ask questions your tiny brain can’t understand the answers to

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌 

i literally only asked why ur getting coffee so late :(

ur so mean :((

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌

and yet u still like to fuck me?? lmfao loser

Satoru throws his phone down on the passenger’s side seat, pouting with a huff and drumming his fingers against the top of the steering wheel as he slowly follows the line of traffic towards the Starbucks you’d pin dropped, and he sees you before you see him. You’re texting someone, a large coffee in hand, and you look… happy. Satoru didn’t think he’d ever actually seen you smile a real smile before, not in class when you’d ignored him for months before he’d proposed being fuckbuddies and not even during the last couple months that the two of you had been hooking up. Every now and then in between fucking each other he’d catch you gazing down at your phone with a fond look in your eyes, but he didn’t really ask about it anymore; you always dodged his questions, and it always led to you being in a foul mood and leaving him. He learned quickly to just… not say anything and let you do your own thing so he could empty his balls and you stay happy and with him. 

Stay with him? God, what was the matter with him? He sounded like a clingy high-schooler, desperate to keep their first relationship. No, he was supposed to sleep with you once, get off, then go laugh about it with Suguru — not… whatever he was doing. It had been six months, why was he still here — fuck, who was he kidding? Satoru knew exactly why he was still here: he liked you. A lot. 

He’s in too deep, and now he can’t back out. 

You open the passenger side door, disrupting him from his thoughts. “Hmm, on time as usual. Desperate, huh?” you ask, sipping at your coffee, and it takes everything in Satoru to scoff at your words and start up the car as you clip on your seatbelt, because the answer was yes. He is desperate. He wants you, wants to hold your hand and take photos with you and brag about how beautiful you are to Suguru and his other friends, and wants for the world to know that you were each other’s partner. He wants to kiss you, not in the sloppy way that left your lipstick smeared across your face as he fucked into you, but softly and slowly so you can tell with each tiny shift how much he loves you. Yeah, you’re mean to him, you make fun of him all the damn time — but god, does he fucking like it. 

It’s a slow, careful motion when he reaches a hand over to first grasp at your thigh before moving over ever so slightly to hold your hand as he drives, and a pang bounces through his chest as you immediately tug your hand away and turn away from him. 

He doesn’t try to touch you again for the rest of the car ride, and before he knows it he’s once again back at his apartment, the motions of making his way to the bedroom with you at his back all a blur. You’re on him before he can remind himself to breathe as the sight of you bare and vulnerable before him takes his breath away as it always does — but you aren’t vulnerable, are you? You’re closed off, all sharp corners and twisted smiles, but maybe — just maybe — he’s blunting them a bit. 

“O-Oh God — oh, fuck-!” Satoru whimpers softly, his thick eyelashes fluttering as he fists his hands in the sheets beneath him while you bounce on his cock, tiny gasps falling from your lips as you swallow up all of his thick length. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as drowns in the sensations of your sopping cunt taking him entirely, his fat tip slamming against your cervix with each rough drop down. 

“Fuck yes, Satoru!” You hiss sharply, clenching around him and digging your nails into his shoulders. “Y’fill me up so fuckin’ good, ‘Toru-!”

“Yes, yes — fuckfuckfuck, c’mon!” Satoru whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours as they drop down harshly. “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart, so fuckin’ wet!”

Lewd wet noises and the slapping of bare flesh along with the crude banging of his headboard against the walk fill the bedroom, mixing with the sounds falling from your lips, as well as his. Satoru sits up, wrapping and arm around your middle as yours instinctively loop around his shoulders, your lips catching his in a searing kiss that sends a fond warmth from his mouth all the way down to his toes. 

“God, yes,” you moan into his mouth, “So fuckin’ good, Satoru — don’t stop, don’t stop-!”

“Won’t, can’t, won’t stop!” Satoru promises through a moan of his own, a deep groan following it triggered by the feeling of your tongue running along his. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise as you tear your mouth away from his in order to latch onto his neck and bite down, nipping and kissing and sucking as his head falls back in time with the feeling of the soft heat kindling in his belly start growing hotter and hotter. “F-Fuck — damn it, m’gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Satoru,” you whine sharply, and he whimpers a little. 

“B-But you-?” he starts, his words devolving into a garbled moan as you pick up the pace. 

“I’m close too — c’mon, ‘Toru, cum with me!” You plead softly, and Satoru needs no further prodding. He clings to you tightly as he starts cumming, his own fingernails digging into your skin as his hips buck up messily into your welcoming hips with each new burst of cum. Your voice pitches in the way he knows it does during your own orgasm, and he forces the haze away just enough so that he can look at you and watch you fall apart on his lap. 

God, you’re beautiful. 

The two of you bask in the moment for about ten minutes before you finally end it, pulling away and staggering into the bathroom in the hallway to piss. Satoru sighs and tosses the condom in the trash can after tying it off, falling back against his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. He can hear you come back into the bedroom, can hear you moving around, assumingly so you can no doubt be ready to leave again — which is why he’s surprised at the feeling of the blankets beneath him being thrown back and the mattress dipping beneath your weight. 

He stares at you in surprise as you begin making yourself comfortable, fluffing your pillow and finding the spot on the side of the bed you’d chosen before you finally catch him staring. “Go to sleep, Gojo,” you mutter, shimmying around beneath the blankets as you try to get comfortable in a technically strange bed. 

His eyes widen in half-wanting shock. “You’re staying the night?” Satoru asks hopefully, and you sigh. 

“I’m tired,” you reply simply. “Now go to sleep.”

Sayoru nods wildly, his heart pounding. You were staying the night — you were staying. With him. “Yeah… yeah! Okay. Sleep. I can do that!”

You nod tiredly. “Good,” you say, amd you click off the lamp on the nightstand next to you as Satoru does the same. An odd silence fills the room as Satoru follows your previous motions of getting ready to rest before finally getting comfortable under the blankets. 

He rolls over to rest on his side, staring at the way you lay with your back to him. “…Goodnight,” Satoru murmurs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours. It doesn’t sting as harshly as before when you move your hand away, considering you do allow him to drap his arm over your waist while pressing his chest to your back. You’re silent for a moment, but you do eventually respond as his warmth begins to seep into you.

“…Goodnight, Satoru,” you say, and he hums drowsily. 

You’re both asleep within fifteen minutes. Neither of you comment on how well the two of your bodies slot together outside of sex. 

It’s 1am when Satoru wakes up, his vision blurry and the red numbers on his bedside clock more aggressive than he remembered. 

Blearily he pats the mattress behind himself, wondering why he’d turned away from you in his sleep, and finds nothing but cool sheets, which leads him to rolling over. He’s startled, almost certain he’ll find the bathroom light on in the hallway, but no — it’s darker than he’d like, even at twenty-three, and you’re not here. Snatching up his cellphone, a quick scan of it tells him all he needs to know. 

You left him. 

Again. 

Three days later, Satoru finds himself parked in front of the dining hall on campus, waiting for you to come out, likely followed by one or two of your friends. After waiting about ten minutes, you do just that — only you’re walking closer to an older man in a suit than he for some reason felt comfortable with, and he moves around in his seat a little to get comfortable while watching your interactions with the man with narrowed eyes. He grits his teeth for a moment when the man touches your arm in a too-casual way, then crosses his own when he sees you smile at him. The two of you stop on the sidewalk several paces from his car, then finally split off. 

“So… Who was that old guy?” he asks as you slip into the passenger seat, and you pause as you put your bag in the backseat. He doesn’t want to just foolishly believe that you’re genuinely confused, but he also doesn’t want to think ill of you without reason, so he ‘decides’ to withhold judgment for now. 

“What?” you ask, confused, and he sighs in blatant annoyance. 

“The old guy. The one you were literally just talking to,” he grouses. “The one who was getting so touchy.”

“‘Old guy’ — wait, the blond?” You ask, almost in a shocked way, and he nods. You snort; Satoru doesn’t know what’s so funny. “That was professor Kento — my History professor,” you reply, and Satoru can feel his cheeks heat up a little, but he refuses to look at you as you start laughing. 

“Oh my god! You were fucking jealous of Professor Kento?!” you giggle, and while he’s embarrassed he can’t deny that he enjoys the sound, even if it was at his own expense. What the hell was wrong with him? “That’s so fucking wild — like c’mon man, we aren’t even dating. If I wanted to fuck Professor Kento, it wouldn’t even fucking matter.” A lump settles in Satoru’s throat at your words. 

Yes, it would. 

“But… you aren’t, right?” Satoru asks carefully as he pulls the car out of park, and you sigh. 

“No, Satoru. I’m not going to fuck my History professor.” you say softly, blatantly amused, but it’s too late now — Satoru’s upset, and he can’t stop the words from coming out. 

“Because I just — I don’t want anyone else with you like me, y’know?” he asks, almost paranoid. He fails to notice the way you stiffen next to him and forges on, his heartbeat quickening as his panic picks up. “It’s just — really like you. Like a lot. And it scares me. But it doesn’t scare me enough to not want you to myself, you know? I just want you and want to be with you and—“

“Take me home.”

Satoru pauses. “W-What?” he asks, uncertain of the icy tone you’d taken on when interrupting him. 

“My address is in your GPS,” you say quietly, then repeat yourself. “Take me home.”

“But-“ Satoru whispers, but you shake your head almost violently. 

“Now. Or I’ll walk,” you threaten lowly, and that’s all it takes for him to listen. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence until he reaches your apartment. You’re out of the car before he can say your name, and he’s following you before he can even ask himself why. 

He’s right behind you as you go into your kitchen, watching in surprise as you pull out a large bottle of wine from the fridge while simultaneously throwing open a cabinet next to the refrigerator in order to pull out a wine glass. You pull the cork out, fill the glass, and empty it in one go before refilling it again.  

Tentatively, Satoru says, “Please, I just — I think I’m in love with you. Can’t we talk about this?” and you laugh borderline hysterically. 

“And say what?! What do you expect of me, Gojo?” you ask, your tone harsh enough to make him flinch, but he answers you anyway. 

“I… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says softly, feeling smaller than he ever had before. 

You laugh again, this time less hysterically and more in disbelief. “No,” You say, and Satoru blinks in shock. 

“What? N-No?” He asks, voice shaky. 

“No!” you snap icily, turning back to your wine. You empty your glass again as Satoru begins to reflect on the situation at hand; it’s bitterly ironic, the deja vū he’s feeling. This conversation is brutally close to the first time he’d asked you out all those months ago with the sole goal in mind being getting in your pants and ditching you, whether that meant hurting you in the process or not. How poetically cruel ( and simultaneously deserved ) that he’s the one hurt in the end. 

“Can I ask why?” he finally asks, and you turn around tk face him again, your eyes wild and cold. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” you growl, and he lifts his hands in surrender while nodding in agreement. 

“I know that, I just—“ Satoru swallows hard. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Do something wrong? God, Gojo, yes! You asked me to be your fucking girlfriend — I literally said before we ever fucked that you couldn’t catch feelings, what is wrong with you?!

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his chest filled with a stabbing pain he’d nkt ever expected to experience while in your company.

“What does that matter now?! This thing we’ve been doing is over,” you mutter, taking a long drink of your wine. Satoru’s eyes widen exponentially, and the panic begins to set in anew. 

“Over?!” he exclaims, shaking his head a little, and you scoff.

“Of course it’s over!” You snap angrily, pointing at him accusingly. “You ruined it! Feelings were never supposed to be involved!”

Satoru wilts completely. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, just as quietly as before, and you sigh audibly as you lean against the counter. 

“An apology won’t fix this,” you say bitterly. Satoru wants to argue, wants to assure you that he can be good and do better, that the two of you don’t have to stop seeing each other, but he’s instead startled when the door to the entry hall opens without warning, and he spins to glance at the doorway like whoever came in is intruding as you groan and cross your arms after putting down your wine, covering your eyes with one hand at the same time. 

“C’mon Yuuji, kick your shoes off under the coat rack,” a deep voice rumbles, and a man with pink hair strolls in like he owns the place. Satoru would be extremely alarmed if you’d seemed so yourself, but you made no move to react, apparently used to the man being in your apartment. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the kitchen and see if she’s home yet.” His eyebrows raise with ill-concealed interest when he finally lays them on Satoru. “And who are you?”

“Who are you?” Satoru parrots quietly, a sickening feeling twisting his stomach as his mind thinks up just what scenario could lead to a random man in your apartment — but was he random?

Roommates. Please, please just be roommates, Satoru finds himself begging in his kind, though no one could hear him. 

“I’m one of the two people on the lease of this apartment, and the boyfriend of the woman behind you,” the man says, narrowing his eyes; a jolt of nausea stabs through Satoru’s stomach. “I’ll ask again: who are you?”

“He’s no one, Sukuna,” you mutter, sounding annoyed. Yet another sharp pain shocks through Satoru’s chest, and he turns back to look at you in disbelief as you walk past him and wrap your arms around Sukuna’s waist, hugging him. Your voice is muffled by his chest when you say, “Welcome home, baby,” and he kisses the crown of your head and you let go, drifting over to the younger looking ( also very confused and clearly a little uncomfortable ) boy who resembles ‘Sukuna’. “C’mon Yuuji, help me set up the new console Sukuna and I got last Friday.”

The teenager follows without hesitation, the awkwardness on his face from the odd altercation fading as he starts talking to you excitedly about some boy in his Biology II class he thinks is cute, and suddenly Satoru is left alone with Sukuna. The other man is staring at him, and it's making him uncomfortable. 

“Y’slept with her?” he asks finally, and again Satoru is startled. He just slowly nods, and Sukuna shrugs and moves past him to the fridge, fishing out a beer and popping the top off before taking a large swig. “No big deal. You’re not the first she’s run around with.”

Satoru’s startled all over again. “You… don’t care?”

“Oh, I absolutely care! I’ll have you know I’m a damn jealous man — but I know I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sukuna chuckles, looking completely unbothered as he shrugs again. “She’s my woman after all — has been since junior high.” He laughs, takes another drink, and continues while making his way over to the bottle of wine and the half empty glass she’d left on the counter. “Hell, she even officially adopted my kid brother with me when our grandfather died last year — Pretty sure she and I are set.”

Satoru feels sick, and he wants to go home. He understands now, he realizes that he never had a claim to your heart at all. God, he was an idiot. 

Sukuna hums slightly in thought, tipping his head to the side ever so slightly. “Her sleeping around every now and then makes the sex better though. Every now and then we’ll agree we wanna spice things up, and she’ll pick some poor idiot to fuck. It makes me angry, gets me all jealous and possessive, and since we both love it when I fuck her like I hate her — even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth — it’s a double win.”

“So you just — you cheat on each other just to boost your sex?” Satory asks, completely in disbelief. Sukuna just scoffs and shakes his head, knocking back the rest of his beer before chasing it with the remnants of what you had left in your wine glass before crossing his arms.

“Nah, she’s it for me — never been interested in anyone else. Besides, I know she’ll always come back to me. She’s proven that today, hasn’t she?”

That stung — but he wasn’t wrong. You had proven yourself to your boyfriend again, and Satoru looked like nothing but a fool. 

“Go home, Gojo,” Sukuna finally says, finally sounding annoyed. It seems his patience with Satoru being in his home has run as thin as possible. “She’s never going to love you, so leave. There’s nothing for you here.”

Absently Satoru wonders how Sukuna could possibly know his name when he’d never given it, until he registers that Sukuna must have known the entire time who he was because you’d told him about him, and didn’t that just make it worse? He’d been an idiot, had been so damn sure that you’d love him back. 

Fuck. Just like before, Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 

He was heartbroken instead. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[alchemistc]

Tommy doesn't quite startle, when Evan reaches out for his hand, halfway down the block on their way to the little park tucked in behind a row of boutiques, but it takes him a moment to accept the touch, Evan's pinky sliding over the back of Tommy's hand as their shoulders bump together, the both of them a little too giddy to blame the coffee alone.

Evan makes an aborted movement like he's second guessing the attempt, and Tommy twitches his hand back just enough to snag his fingers.

At his side, Evan ducks his head, cheeks pinking, lips rubbing together, smile going wide and bright.

He feels overheated in his hoodie, but now their fingers are interlocking, and Evan is shifting his weight to adjust the angle of their arms, and Tommy can just deal with the warmth, actually.

His sister's wedding. They're both insane, Tommy decides, right then and there, and if this continues - if this continues, Tommy's just going to take his cues from Evan.

(I am all in, Tommy thinks, in Scott Patterson's voice, and then drops that thought like a hot fucking potato. He tables it, at least. For later.)

"I - uh - I told Eddie, about - well I told him." Evan grimaces, but he holds up their intertwined hands for a moment, a clear gesture about what, exactly, he'd told Eddie. Tommy wonders exactly how much he'd said. He wants to climb in behind his eyeballs and pick at his brain, which is so beyond the pale of weird and intense. Evan still thinks he's cool, somehow. That won't last. "I hope that was okay? I know you said you're out, but I guess he didn't know, so -."

Tommy squeezes the hand tucked into his. "That's fine, really. He'd have figured it out on his own, eventually. It's not like I hide it."

(Anymore.)

It's - that's a huge fucking leap from "I'm an ally" actually, less than a week out from shifting his eyes around the room and spouting nervous nonsense about picking up chicks. His sister, his best friend - Christ, he's really going for the speed run on accepting his sexuality.

The wedding, Tommy had discovered, down to the dregs of a truly middling cup of coffee he kept sipping at to try to hide his own nerves, was another three weeks away, but a month of lead time between his first kiss with a man and introducing that man to all of his family and friends as a date - yeah. Tommy wouldn't trust it for a minute if he hadn't spent weeks picking Christopher's brain for hints as to exactly what was up with Evan Buckley, if he hadn't already heard from Eddie exactly how quickly they'd jumped into their friendship.

Tommy's whirlwind thoughts stutter to a halt. "Wait. Did you know?"

Evan blushes, again, ripening the apples of his cheeks. "It's - okay so I didn't know, know, obviously, but - I mean - you were flirting pretty hard."

Tommy laughs. "Evan."

"You were!" He sounds a little incensed, like he's actually offended Tommy thinks he can't clock a flirt, and Tommy can't quite resist the urge to squeeze at his hand, again. "You aren't exactly the first guy who's ever flirted with me, Mr. Kinard." He says it prim and proper, chin raised, lips pursing after the pause, and Tommy is - shit, he's smitten. He also has no fucking clue how Evan never pieced together how hard he was flirting back. God, even Mr. Kinard has his stomach fluttering, a little.

"Just the first one who's ever reached out and slapped you in the face with it."

Evan's grin goes blindingly bright, eyes still a little squinted under the sunlight making the shots of red in his hair a little more obvious. "It was a very gentle slap. You could - you could slap a little harder, next time."

Jesus.

He's not even a hundred percent sure what the implication is there, but he can at least roll with the tamer one. He tugs, a bit, on their intertwined hands, just hard enough to knock their shoulders together again. He's a solid weight against Tommy's side, the bulk of him a little mind numbingly hot, in his bright white shirt and the dark wash jeans Tommy'd taken his time checking out when Evan went to toss their coffee cups. "You still owe me a beer, Buckley," he tells him, and Evan tilts his head up to check the angle of the sun, doesn't even bother to point out that Tommy'd barely let the check sit on the table long enough for Evan to pull out his wallet.

"I mean, it's a little early."

"Raincheck, again?"

Neither one of them has anywhere to be for the rest of the day. They'd both made that clear, when the coffee started to get low but the conversation didn't wind down, and Tommy - Christ, Tommy is more than willing to let himself get swept up in this, for the next few hours, for the day maybe, even. The weather is comfortable, and the company is adorable, and in response to Tommy releasing him from the pressure of being out too soon he'd sped off to his sister and his best friend for - for answers, most likely, for advice on how to turn things around. My sister says... he'd started, before Tommy'd had enough of wondering.

"Let's see where the day takes us," Evan says, another squeeze to Tommy's hand, and Tommy takes the weight when Evan checks his shoulder back.

-----

The day takes them twelve blocks up the road, Tommy pressed to his own kitchen counter, lips swollen and flushed when he finally parts for breath, Evan Buckley's dick pressed against his thigh as he whines at the loss. Tommy's hands are bunched up under the fabric of Evan's shirt, the wide expanse of skin beneath them sun-warm and smooth, and when Evan blinks back at him and digs his nose into Tommy's cheek, Tommy has the wild thought that he could do this forever - just this, rocking together in the shifting late afternoon light coming in from the gauzy white curtains over his kitchen sink.

They'd made the journey here under the pretense of grabbing a few waters, maybe making some late lunch, figuring it out from there, but when Tommy had bent over the low shelf in his fridge Evan had cut the distance between them, caged Tommy in and made good on his threat to show Tommy he could slap back, if he wanted.

They've been lazily making out for - long enough that the water bottles he'd scrambled to set aside are now sweating condensation. He'd lost his concept of time somewhere around the point Evan had grabbed for the back of his thigh and rocked against it for the first time.

"We should figure out something for dinner," Tommy announces, lips still close enough to Evan's still parted ones that he's speaking mostly into his mouth.

"Uh-huh."

"Evan," he intones, just a hint of admonishment, and Evan blinks, and gathers himself. He's - he's still got his thigh wedged between Tommy's, can clearly feel exactly how much they'd both gotten themselves worked up. Tommy's a little obsessed with exactly how unperturbed by this Evan is. Thirty some years without realizing he was attracted to men and now he's spent a good few minutes actually nipping at the cleft of Tommy's chin, purposely shifting his face against Tommy's stubble-roughened cheeks while he sucked at Tommy's earlobe.

"Somewhere with beer," Evan provides, decisive, and Tommy can feel exactly how wide his smile goes.

"I'm actually in the mood for wine, tonight," Tommy shoots back, and the moment shifts, mood slowing as Evan pulls back - just a little, just enough for each of them to take stock of exactly how disheveled they both are.

Evan's mouth is pink pink pink, his own stubble not quite enough to hide the beard-burn that had spread down his neck when Tommy found himself momentarily fascinated by the dip of his collarbone, the rush of his pulse when Tommy mouthed at the tendon of his neck. Besides the awkward bunching at the back, his shirt is all out of whack, one side of his collar flipped up, the neck shifted to one side, and Tommy vaguely remembers sliding his hand in there, at one point, swallowing the heavy groan that had elicited. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes bright and still a little wild. Tommy can't be any better.

"There - there is actually a little wine bar around here I've been meaning to try," Evan says, clearly trying to refocus, shifting his weight around in a familiar way that Tommy finds achingly endearing.

Tommy thumbs at Evan's bottom lip just to watch the way he has to fight not to be drawn back in.

"Let me change," Tommy says, hands shifting to Evan's hips to press him back, and away.

"You - you're fine. Like this."

Tommy's smile is soft, and he reaches out to smooth down Evan's collar. Evan's eyes seem to be stuck on the flash of skin behind the open button of his Henley, the knowledge of which he is absolutely going to use to his advantage.

"This isn't exactly date attire," Tommy impresses upon him, and Evan's brow goes adorably crinkly.

"Tommy, we've been on a date the entire day."

Tommy's mouth does something uncontrollable, the smile breaking containment on one side, then the other, and the hand still tucked next to Evan's collar shifts across his chest. Beneath his ribcage, Tommy's heart does something he absolutely refuses to acknowledge until he's had a moment alone to his thoughts.

"I didn't wear this to impress you," he admits, although he gets the feeling Evan absolutely had dressed to impress. "Sorta thought I was getting a very polite let down, this morning."

"So, this is, what, your sulking attire?"

"Certain I was gonna sulk, hmm?"

"I mean, I'd have been a little insulted if you didn't at least mope, a bit. Maybe a little wallowing."

"You caught me. This is my brooding sweatshirt."

It's absolutely stupid, how much it makes his heart race to see the grin blooming across his face. Tommy needs a moment.

He brushes at Evan's shoulder as he passes him, fighting the urge to press his lips to his cheek.

"I'll be right back. Bathroom's down the hall on the left, if you need it."

In his room, with the door shut behind him, Tommy takes a long, long moment to stare at his bed, silently trying to convince himself not to throw his whole body dramatically across it like some regency era heroine. The bathroom is right next to his room, and Tommy can hear Evan drifting down the hall towards it, at a pace that suggests he's taking the time to take in the artwork and picture frames hung on the walls. It makes something ache, in his chest, in his throat, and Tommy shakes his head on the way to his closet, getting tangled in his sweatshirt when he tries to tug both it and the Henley up over his head at the same time.

He's forgotten how clothes work. Maybe. Probably.

In his walk in, once he's figured out how to get everything off without blinding himself or taking out a light, he takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror hung by the door. His hair is a fucking disaster. His face is - embarrassingly smiley, Jesus Christ.

There's a mouth shaped bruise forming at the bolt of his jaw, and Tommy should absolutely be embarrassed about that - he's a forty year old man who just spent a good hour necking in his kitchen.

Fingers trace the edges of it and he can't muster up anything less mortifying than smugness.

He manages to get his hair in some semblance of order - doesn't bother with product, for absolutely no reason at all (certainly not to tempt Evan into running his fingers through it some more) - and finds a collared shirt in a light, hazy blue that he knows brings out the slashes of green in his eyes.

He leaves the top three buttons undone and calls it good.

Evan's back in the kitchen by the time he makes it out of his room, snooping in Tommy's fridge, and he doesn't even have the grace to look apologetic about it when Tommy taps his fingers against the doorframe.

The fridge closes on its own, Evan's mouth dropped to an intriguing O shape.

"Uh - oh," Evan says, mouth actually snapping shut as he takes Tommy in, eyes dipping up, down, catching on the skin below his collarbone. He swallows. Fuck. "This - uh. Okay. Color me impressed."

"Yeah?"

"You know you look good," Evan whines.

He's done something to fix his own, hair, too. Tommy leans in the doorway, arms crossed, one foot tucked over the other, and actually takes the time to stare back. Tommy's hands had worn through the product - there's a little bit of a curl, in his hair, that Tommy would give a lot of his earthly possessions to see in its natural state. There's still some color in his cheeks, and it's spreading as Tommy checks him out. He's fixed the neck of his shirt, and against the stark white of it, his tattoos are drawing Tommy's eye. He wonders how many other ones he might uncover, one day. "You too," Tommy finally says, when Evan looks like he might vibrate right out of his skin at the attention. Evan beams, and spins the keys in his hand around on one finger.

"You ready?"

Absolutely fucking not, Tommy thinks to himself, but he nods, and lets Evan lead the way back out his front door.

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar: feeding my complex

If you know me irl 🎶no the fuck you dont 🎶

This is azriel x reader x feyre x rhys smut. Everything is under the cut. (i'm so nervous posting this omg) 

(3.7K YALL WTF POSSESSED ME)

title is from complex by xana pls listen xana is one of the best artists ive ever heard!

‼️Minors Do Not Interact‼️

(i already know minors are gonna ignore that bc i have common sense)

notes: probably ooc rhys and az. i do not see them as the type to share mates but like, it’s hot. you could see this as wlw fetishization but as a pan/bi/queer woman this is a goddamn wet dream so i approve it. (duh i wrote it) 

This is mainly porn with no plot, but i snuck some in. 

kinks: ass play, tongue sucking, female worship, voyeurism, switching from top to bottom real quick, dirty talk (i tried), praise, oral (fem receiving), mating press, pussy slapping, edging, mentioned past knife play. I think i got it all folks. 

It all started from a dinner with Feyre and Rhysand. Aka your childhood best friend and her husband. You and Feyre dreamed of double dates with your spouses as children and now you finally have it. 

You four occasionally had these dinners, typically once a month. 

After the meal, you four were in the living room area, Azriel was on his second glass of wine, Rhysand and you weren’t drinking. Feyre was on her first glass. The fire was crackling with life, causing the room to warm. 

Then you four began sharing silly secrets. It started with Feyre and Rhysand fucking in paint, which gave your husband ideas. Then you and Azriel admonishing them for fucking in the literal sky. But then they scolded you two for knife play. Especially when they found out Truthteller’s handle was used to fuck you. 

“How did you even grip that?” Feyre asked. 

Azriel smirked, “who said I was the one holding it?”

“Who the hell did you invite to your bed and why wasn’t it us?” Rhysand asked, jokingly but you warmed at the idea. 

“The shadows you fool.” You laughed, sipping your water. “Az pinned me down and sucked my tits while the shadows pinned my legs down and used Truthtellers handle to fuck me. 

They were silent and then, “I love how you have no filter, baby.” Az coughed. 

“So do I. Damn.” Feyre said. “That’s spank bank material.”

You snorted and Rhysand just tipped his glass to you. 

Which then the conversation turned into friends having sex, and then: 

“You mean to tell me, you and my High Lady would have sex?” Azriel asked, surprised clearly. He knew you were into women but it was different knowing the object of your past affections was his close friend and High Lady. 

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged at your mate. “Two girls that the village wanted nothing to do with. Might as well do each other.”

“And by the way, it was a loving and very respectful relationship. Platonic sex!” Feyre declared from her spot on the couch. 

“Huh.” Rhysand said. “You know, I expected not to like that but…” he trailed off. “The thoughts are nice.”

You snorted and looked at Azriel, who was looking at you with an expression that could only be described as eye-fucking. 

“Are you serious?” You asked him grinning. He had the decency to blush. 

“What?” Feyre asked, looking towards you. 

“He’s into it too!” You laughed. 

Feyre laughed as well, “I mean I don’t blame them. We are quite hot together.” She scooted closer to you on the couch. 

“That we are.” You grinned and clinked your glasses together. 

You all quickly went onto other topics, but you both could tell that the boys just could not stop imagining you two together. 

“Okay, how do we bring you two back to the present?” Feyre asked. 

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 

“You two have been acting so weird since we said we used to hook up. So how do we stop that weirdness?” Feyre asked. 

“We just never imagined our wives with equally attractive women.” Rhysand shrugged. 

You gasped, “are you saying I’m as hot as Feyre? That's the best compliment.” 

He was silent. He actually looked sheepish, he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and everything. 

“What?” You asked. 

“He’s saying you’re as hot as him.” Azriel said. 

You gasped even louder. “Seriously?!” 

“I mean, you are,” Feyre shrugged. 

“And Feyre is….as attractive as you are, love.” Azriel said. 

“Awww Azzie..” Feyre cooed teasingly. “That's so cute.”

The tips of his ears became bright red. 

Rhysand stuttered out, “it’s just, hard to imagine so…” He trailed off 

You turned and looked at Feyre. “They wanna see us smooch.” You giggled. 

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed your face and pecked you on the lips. 

When you turned towards the boys, they were wide eyed but not satisfied. “You’re blue-balling us.” Rhysand huffed. 

“Oh? You wanna see us do what?”

Rhysand was silent and looked at Azriel then you two. Feyre coaxed, “words baby.” 

“We want to see you two make out.” Azriel ended their misery. “And maybe…” He shrugged. 

“Maybe?” You prodded. You knew exactly what that voyeur wanted to see. But gods, this was fun enough for you. And it was turning you the fuck on. 

“Maybe if it’s hot, then we fuck you both together.” Azriel snapped, but it wasn’t malicious. Your mate snapped when he was flustered, which was rare. So you were eating this shit up. 

“If?” You chuckled. “Baby, it’s gonna be.” 

“Yeah yeah you know you two are hot.” Rhysand muttered. 

You giggled, “then we have to go to bed, don’t we?” You asked Feyre. 

“Duh.” She laughed, downed her drink then grabbed your hand. You both took off down the hallway, the men nearly tripping over themselves to follow you two. 

You two beat them to the bed. You both fell into a heap of giggles as they ran up the stairs. 

“Is it weird if I’ve missed kissing you?” Feyre asked. She threw off her baggy shirt, so her bra was on display. But left her shorts on. “As much as I love Rhys, kissing girls is just.” She kissed the air. 

“I feel the same.” You giggled into your shared air. You shucked your shorts off, revealing the granny panties you were wearing. If you knew this was coming, you would’ve worn a hot set. You left the big tee shirt on. 

“I’m not wearing panties, I wanna leave some mystery.” Feyre said. 

“I would’ve worn a hot set if i knew this was happening.” You laughed, you could hear the boys were close to the bedroom. 

“It’s not fair you look hot in granny panties.” Feyre groaned. 

You laughed as the boys arrived, now the fun could begin. 

“C’mere.” You grinned and Feyre did as well. 

The two of you sat on the bed, facing each other. Your knees touching. Very much aware of your husbands at the end of the bed waiting for you two to kiss. Their heated gazes stroked the inferno that was in your cunt. Throbbing. 

When you and Feyre’s lips met, the world went silent. Kissing Feyre was always like falling into a comfy bed. Soft, plush and safe. As much as you loved Azriel as he was your mate, and you obviously were sexually attracted to men. You also were sexually attracted to women. There was never a worry with Az. He never wanted to invite anyone to the bedroom because he didn’t trust anyone. 

But these, these were two of the people he trusted most. 

Nothing beats kissing a girl.

Your mouths opened for each other, your tongues caressing each other. Lewd sounds were the only sound in the bedroom aside from Azriel and Rhysands heavy breathing. Feyre pulled you against her, your tits rubbing against each other, you wore no bra underneath so the contact caused your nipples to pebble. She ran her hands underneath your shirt, scraping her nails against your back. Your hands wove into her hair and pulled her even closer. Her nails dug into your plush hips. 

She pulled away, “Gods, I missed these hips. Fucking perfection. So soft.” Between each sentence she pressed a kiss to your swollen lips. “Felt even better sitting on my face. Remember that?” 

“Gods how could I forget?” You whispered. You smelled the musky, manly scent of Azriel and Rhysands arousal, you felt your pussy throb at the aroma of them and the sweet smell of Feyre’s mixing.  

You captured Feyres lips between your own. Better than a drug. More addictive and exhilarating. 

You heard rustling and then the sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

You felt warm heat radiate at your back as large thighs cradled your butt and hips. Azriel’s warm hands went around your waist to hold you. He kissed your neck. You felt his cock in bump into your plush thighs. Rock hard. 

How far are we going with this? Rhysand created a link to all of your minds.

As far as you boys would like. This isn’t new for Y/N and I. Feyres throaty laugh echoed in your minds. Safe word? 

Peach. Like Y/N’s ass. Azriel said as he spanked you. 

No ones gonna get possessive and rip out someone’s throat? You asked as your tongue licked down the side of Feyres throat, your teeth scraped her skin. She let out a breathy moan. 

Nobody else I trust to fuck my wife than these two. Azriel responded 

Glad you have so much faith. Rhysand said. Can’t wait to make your wife see the galaxy. 

yeah watch me make your wife come. Was all you said before your fingers dipped into Feyre’s shorts. 

Azriel chose that moment to slip his hand into the back of your panties and spread your ass cheeks with his long thick fingers. Just rubbing outside the tight ring made you quiver. You weren’t a fan of penetration there, but a little bit of ass play never hurt. 

You snuck your hand into her shorts, her smooth, wet pussy was warm and inviting. You wanted to sink into it with your tongue and fuck her so hard she didn’t know her name. But, you’d do that another time, either with Rhys coming down her throat or just watching while Azriel pounded into you from behind, you weren't picky. 

You gathered her slick and brought it up to her clit and continuously rubbed circles on the bundle of nerves. 

Based on the way her thighs clenched around your hand, you knew something was going on in the back. Then you saw the lube in Rhysands hand get thrown onto the bed and knew that she was also getting some ass action.  

“Is he fucking your ass?” You asked her. She groaned. “You got my fingers on your clit, your husbands in your asshole and you’re giving my husband a filthy fucking show? You grabbed her face with your free hand, “open.” You ordered. 

She did so without complaint, her tongue sticking out as you took her tongue between your lips and sucked on it like it was your favorite candy. 

You pulled away long enough to say, “dirty fucking girl.” You saw her eyes roll back into her head as you took her tongue in your mouth again and sucked it. 

You moaned around her tongue as Azriel began pressing harder against your tight asshole. He began rubbing faster. You whimpered. You weren’t afraid to admit that it doesn’t take much to make you finish. But you also have a faster turnaround time than most. It helps that this sight, this situation was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

You let go of Feyre’s tongue. “Wanna sit on my face baby?” You asked Feyre as she pitched forward into your shoulder. “Huh? You can sit on my face while Az fucks me and you can suck Rhys’ cock. How does that sound?” You rubbed her even faster. 

She let out a louder moan as you felt her thighs quiver around your hand. 

“Or maybe you wanna see what the biggest wingspan feels like.” You grinned, you saw Rhys’ eyes flash a stormy violet. “His cock is so thick, baby.” You panted against Feyre’s temple. “You can feel every vein as you bounce. I bet it’d stretch you out so ni-“ 

You were cut off when someone threw you down on the bed. You looked up to see Rhys’ eyes pinning you down. One of his hands pinning both your wrists down. “Azriel.” Was all he said. 

“Yeah?” He asked, still discombobulated from the shift in position. 

“Pleasure my wife out while I eat yours out.” 

Your husband, your mate, let out a dark chuckle. “As you wish, My Lord.” Your mate sent a gentle caress down the bond. It was almost mocking. 

It was fucking hot. 

Rhys let out his beast form enough that his wings spread even wider, his right hand that wasn’t holding your wrist turned into his beast claws. And his cock was a hard rod against your inner thigh. 

“You know, it’s because of you my wife didn’t get to cum.” He said, one single talon cutting your shirt open. The cool air brushed against the swells of your tits. “If you just kept your fucking mouth shut, she would’ve finished.” He scolded as his wife's moans were in the background, you quickly glanced over Rhysand’s shoulder to see Azriel fingering his High Lady. 

“Am I supposed to be sorry?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

You had no idea what possessed you to say that to him. You’re only mouthy with Azriel, but not all the time. 

You were in a brat mood because the next thing you said was, “you mad that out of all of us I got to fuck her first?”

“Are you always this mouthy?” He asked. 

“You have no idea.” Azriel said, taking a break from sucking on Feyre’s tits and fingering her cunt. You were jealous of your husband. Feyre’s tits were spectacular. 

Rhysand pinned your waist down and began mouthing at one of your tits. His tongue circled a nipple and he grazed his canine against it which caused your back to shoot up off the bed. 

You felt Rhysands claws tap your mental shield, you let him in. 

“Praise or degradation?” He switched to the other breast. 

“Both. But, don’t overdo it with the name calling please.” You requested. You were bullied as a kid so name calling is a toughie to navigate. 

“What words are you against?” He then tore the rest of your shirt off completely. The cool air causing goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“I don’t like being told I'm ‘just a cunt’. Degrade me by roughing me up. Praise my looks while you do it.”

His chuckle echoed in your mind, “oh I can certainly work with that.” 

“These beautiful thighs are meant to be parted.” He said as he trailed down your curvy body. “Curves of a goddess too.” He pulled your granny panties off and threw them somewhere. 

Azriel always told you how beautiful you were, but you weren’t gonna lie, hearing it from a guy like Rhysand was pretty nice too. 

“The prettiest woman I've seen.” Feyre said off in the distance. She was moaning as well. You didn’t know what your mate was doing. But you knew it was good. 

You hummed as he spread your legs, he blew on your clit and the air made your thighs twitch. 

“Your stretch marks are so beautiful.” He said into your mind. 

He licked a stripe between your folds and moaned. He started sloppily eating like a man starved. Your toes were curling, your heels pushing into his shoulder blades and pushing him further into you. Your hands curl into his hair. 

“You taste like fucking heaven. Our perfect, beautiful, otherworldly little slut.” 

“How does it feel knowing everyone in this room has tasted this perfect cunt?” The breath from him speaking felt like ecstasy as it went over your puffy red cunt.  

“Fuck.” Your eyes rolled back. 

He pulls away and you whine, then squeak when he slaps your pussy. “I asked a question.” He was just adding fuel to the flame. 

“It feels so fucking good. Like I'm a God.” You couldn’t help the truth bubbling out. Anything to get his tongue back inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you were sure they could all hear it. You were a greedy little thing. 

“You are a God, you are our God that tastes so fucking good it’s addictive.” He whispered as if the sentence was a prayer. 

He then put his mouth to use. He rolled your bud around with his tongue. Having the raw, targeted motions made you more sensitive. Causing pleasurable shocks to go through your body. 

“Only we get to make you feel like this, only us. You are ours.” 

“Your curves, your plushness, Gods. Perfection.” 

Right as your thighs began to shake, right as your stomach began to clench and twist, he stopped. 

You could not help the whine. Feyre whined too. It seems the boys had planned something. 

The little bitches had edged you both. “She’s ready for you.” Rhysand smirked at your husband, his lips coated in your slick. 

Azriel grabbed your legs and pulled them onto his shoulders so quickly it caused you to yelp. The head of his cock slapping your pussy lips. 

Feyre was then laid right next to you, both men were now on the bed on their knees. 

Realization set in, these bastards were putting you two in mating presses. 

Rhysand bent down to kiss his mate, when he pulled away, she smirked. “You taste so good with Y/N’s pussy smeared all over your lips. My new favorite dessert.” 

Before you could see Rhysands reaction, Azriel pulled your attention towards him. “Look at you being the favorite slut of the group.” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing which caused you to pitifully whine. “You want me to fill that pussy, baby?” Azriel asked. “Show who has the biggest wingspan?” 

“Mhm.” You whined again. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” 

And together, both him and Rhys, pushed into their wives pussies. 

You let out a guttural moan as the delicious stretch came. Then the feeling of being pleasantly full. Almost to the point of too much. You couldn’t help the tears that came out of your eyes. Since the beginning of the night you’ve been pent up and to finally feel the release and that all the build up was coming to an amazing moment. 

Your cunt greedily sucked him in, as if welcoming him home. “You’ve always been made for me.” You whispered. You two together were truly like a puzzle, the way your bodies reacted to each other was proof of that. 

The fat head of his cock hit your g-spot and the world went white. Your gummy walls felt like heaven to him. And this felt like heaven to you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned as he began pounding into you. He curled in on you, his arms came around to your back and up to your shoulders, holding you in place as his harsh thrusts dove into you. Azriel’s balls were slapping against your ass, a feeling that will never get old. His head going to your neck. 

Sounds surrounded you, Azriels panting against your skin. Azriel and Rhysands grunts. The sounds of skin slapping, gasps and moans that fell from Feyres lips like a prayer. You could feel the sweat from your back clinging to the bedding on top. Azriels breath against your neck, adding to the pleasure. Your nails clawing at Azriels back. 

The bed was moving with all four of you on it. You heard something in the frame snap but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if the bed fell through the floor. 

You turned your head to the side to see Feyre getting pounded into so hard her eyes were rolling back. Rhysand had pinned her hands to the bed with his own and practically flattened her against the bedding. 

It was so fucking hot. 

She turned her head, her mascara smeared and her lips puffy and red. Skin so beautifully flushed. You knew you looked the same to her. Beautiful. You two held eye contact as you were pounded within an inch of your lives, the act alone felt more intimate than kissing. 

All of it together made the rope finally snap. 

You clenched around your husband's cock hard. Hard enough that it caused him to gasp. 

“Fuck, you always clench around me so good, baby. I’m almost there, yeah?” He murmured. Making sure it was okay to continue pounding into your g-spot. 

“Use me, Azriel.” The overstimulation didn’t scare you. It thrilled you. You loved squirting and you were ready to do it. “Use me like a fucking toy.” 

You didn’t know he could thrust harder in the moment, but he did. You held his sweaty head against your neck. It felt like he was going even deeper, which you didn’t know was possible. He bit into the area between your shoulder and neck, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

You heard Feyre’s tell-tale noise and then both her and Rhysand finished. You could tell based on their sounds and the smells. 

Then you felt the tingly feeling of when you’re about to squirt. “Az.” You whined and clenched him hard. 

His lips grazed your neck as he spoke. “I know, I’m there.” You felt his cock release and then let yourself go. 

Your pussy clamped down on him so hard he groaned and collapsed on top of you. The release with Az always felt like you were reborn. Free. Cherished. You knew you had absolutely soaked Feyre and Rhysand’s bed, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“Did so fucking good baby.” You said and kissed his temple. 

Rhysand rolled over onto the other side of Feyre, Azriel eventually pulled out of you and just flopped on the other side of you. Rhysand snapped his fingers and all of you were in clean sheets and were clean. Still felt grimy but you could live with it until you could bathe. He had the courtesy to magic a blanket over the four of you. 

The room was silent except for your panting. 

“So.” Rhys began. 

“We’re doing that again right?” Feyre finished. 

“Yeah.” Azriel panted. 

“Fuck yeah.” You agreed. “I already have ideas.” 

Feyre snorted, “of course you do. Can’t wait for you to experience the wonders of Y/N’s perverted mind, babe.” She said and you heard her punch her husband's shoulder. 

Azriel chuckled, “The shadows fucking her with Truthteller was her idea.” 

“Fuck.” 

[tan1shere]

Save Me

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: I know I got inspired by something but I can not remember- it mightve been from the show I just finished I dunno BUT I hope you all enjoy this angsty Rollercoaster 😁

Summary: Your life wasn't as colorful as it may seem. When you reunite with an old girlfriend you were finally able to get out of the hell hole. She took you away from all the harm. She, saved you.

Warnings: angst ! - happy ending duhr, abusive partner, ptsd - think that's it, lmk if I missed anything !

Tags (forgot to do this oopsies) @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu

Masterlist

"Fine, whatever I'm too tired for this."

Those were your last words as you open the dark brown front door. It was the Christmas holidays so everything was hectic. Your life, family. Your supposed partner. Partners were suppose to be in everything together. You truly wanted to be but Bri, was far from any of that. You have been going out for over 6 years now. First few were wonderful, then the reality kicked in and you saw her for her true self. A fucking bitch. But you couldn't just leave. You couldn't and it was stressing you out. There was two main concerns.

One, she started getting crazier as years led on. So you had zero clue what she might do if you leave. Two, there was a bigger thing in your life that had your main focus. You couldn't, not right now. So you had to suck it up. Three words you despise. But it had to be done. It was another day of arguing, oh joy. This time you just couldn't handle sitting around the house moping because of her harsh words. Her horrid temper. It reminded you all to well of your father. Someone who you had finally got out of your life, only to be replaced with the exact replica. "My mistake." You breathe.

It was cold, you had grabbed the first jacket on the coat rack before you left. You needed something to drink or a place to hide out that was warm. And far away. You open the door to a little Cafe. Heading over and ordering a hot chocolate. One of your favs. You grab it, going to turn around when you were face to face with. "Oh sor- Billie?" Your head tilts, looking at all her features. Yup it was her. "Y/n? Oh my God, it's been years!" She gives you a hug, dipping down just a little. You were shorter than her, than alot of people actually. Maybe that's why you always felt so weak, so inferior.

"I know, how are you?!" You say with such a wide smile, you missed her. You think about her often. But like most high-school relationships they never tend to last. She eventually got famous, being bigger and amazing. She had moved in the process, which you couldn't do. You loved your home town. So ofcourse everything left on good terms. Mostly. You did hurt for months after. She truly was your bestfriend too. So to loose both at the same time, hurt a fuck ton. Maybe you never truly got over it. "I'm actually doing very well. You?" You think for a moment. "Yeah, peachy." Peachy?

You internally face palm. She didn't really seem to pick up on it though. Or maybe she did but she just wanted to leave it. "What's been happening in the years?" You both go to sit down at a empty table to chat. "Well." You start but stop for a moment. What do you even say. Do you mention your girlfriend, your home together. Your daughter. Yeah. That's the 'thing' you've been worried about the most throughout all this. "Well, I uh. I met someone. We've been going out for just over 6 years. We have a place together and yeah." You didn't know if you could tell her. Was it weird? Even if it was some high-school relationship. You and Billie had been dating for about 8 years. It wasn't just some silly thing.

How would she react. Billie was amazing with kids. Even back then she was just the sweetest, silliest around one. It warmed your heart. And that is who you pictured yourself with. Pictured marrying having your own children with. But no, it's gone horribly. Bri isn't great with kids. Never horrible to Carley, near incidents. But you'd never ever let that happen. Sure you let her tread on you, horrible to say but thats who you were. You haven't always been like this. It's her to blame honestly. She ruined you. But you'd kill for your daughter. You two had a special bond, super close. Maybe that angered Bri more.

"How about you? Now that you're massive everywhere. Do occasionally hear your songs from time to time my-" You cut yourself off. "Friends all love it too." She smiles at you. "Things are good, hectic but amazing. I think about you alot you know." You look at her, her eyes. Those same eyes that you fell inlove with. As you do you realize that feeling never left. "I do also, there isn't a day you don't slip my mind." A comfortable silence was in the air for a moment. Something you had missed between the two of you. So soothing.

No screaming, no arguing. You and her kept talking about anything and everything, when your phone starts blowing up. Texts, calls. You hadn't noticed at first until Billie says something. "And I thought I was the famous one." She laughs. But her eyes linger on your lockscreen. It was some child. You quickly pick your phone up. "Just probably emails and such from work." She nods. "Hey, speaking of that. What do you do now?" You smile wide. "Office work at the moment. But, it is leading up to what I want to do." She now smiles. "You always were very driven." - "Wonder who I got that from." You say, still having a smile on your face.

With work. Her and your job. You hadn't felt much recently. Kind of empty. Depressed. It was hard keeping everything together for everyone else. But not for your own well being. Putting on fake smiles forever. But now, now you were genuinely smiling. Something Billie has always succeeded in doing. Whenever you were sad. Instant cheer up was her. Her hands go to touch yours. "Let's keep in touch this time. Please. I have to go but I'd love to catch up properly next time." You reluctantly nod. "Yes ofcourse. I should probably go too. Get to these texts and such." You both stand going to give one last hug before leaving.

She still smelt the same. God you felt like crumbling, crying. Letting everything out. You cry alot actually. No one sees it. Whether it's a little one at work, or at night while bri is out somewhere. Drinking. Carley had caught it once. You tried telling her it was just a sad movie you had watched. You hated lying but the less she knows the better. She needed parents who loved her. Who didn't fight infront of her. She pulls back putting her hands on your head. "It was good bumping into you." - "Like wise."

Bri.

Where tf did you go.

Get home for fuck sakes. We can sort this out.

And pick up Carley. I'm not doing it.

"I'm not doing it, you do it because you don't do anything all day, while I sit on my fucking ass drinking. Blah blah. Blah." You grip the steering wheel letting out a dry breath. What has this life become. You saw it differently. You had managed to get the dream job. But in reality that wasn't happening. Another thing you lied to Billie about. Your boss was an asshole. Another one in your life. She treated you poorly. Which was interesting because you were the one making the good money, you made a bunch. Bri? She doesn't do anything no job. You then get distracted by the radio playing one of Billies songs. You turn it up.

Scoffing at what one it was 'Lost Cause' "What perfect timing radio." You laugh a little, how ironic. Deciding to clear your mind and sing on your way to pick your daughter up. She was having a little play date with a friend from school. Once you get there she's already out and coming in to see you. "Hi mama!" She says cheerfully. You smile so wide. "Hi pumpkin, had fun!?" She nods, putting her seat belt on. You were so proud when she came home saying she had a friend. Carley is quite a shy girl, like you when you were younger. So it was such happy news when she came to you super excited. "Her mums really nice too, you'd like her, and oh my God they have fun snacks." You smile. "I bet I will, that sounds so fun baby."

You get into the house, afraid. You never ever dreamed of being afraid to step into your own home. But you had Carley. Bri would never ever do anything infront of her. You made sure of it. "Go play love, dinner will be ready soon." She runs upstairs and that's when shit happens. "Where the fuck did you go?" You sigh, going into the kitchen. "I went to go clear my head. You know what that's like." She shakes her head. "For nearly an hour?" You stay quiet, getting things set up. "Answer me damn it." - "Yes for nearly an hour." She stares at you. "I want steak." "Didn't plan on doing that tonight." You mumbled. "What was that?" A quiet sigh leaves your lips. "Yes babe. Steak it is."

That's what it was usually like. You'd always avoid arguments. You couldn't bear it. Not only because you hated being yelled at, but you never wanted Carley to hear. She shouldn't have to hear such things about her parents. Bri goes back over to the couch. God you were miserable, how did you attract such fucked up shit.

Ever since Billie left that day years ago, you'd been a mess. You were blind to everything. She kept you grounded and once that was gone. You didn't know what to do with yourself. Lately you've been sleeping alone. How lovely, sometimes it was. Having the whole bed to yourself. Others, it was just lonely. Tonight you wanted to revisit those times, reminisce on old memories. "Mama?" You hear Carleys small voice. "Yes baby?" She comes over to you, getting on the bed. Or trying to. "I just wanted to say night, whats all this?" She picks up a Polaroid of you and Billie. "Old photos of when I was in high-school." - "Who's this mama?" You look at the photo she had in hand.

"Just an old friend sweetheart." She nods. "She looks kind of familiar." You so wanted to tell her about it. But you just couldn't. Carley actually adores her music and has many merch pieces in her room. Which was what you were going to say to Billie earlier today. "Yeah. She was pretty memorable." She stares at more laid out. "What happened, why arent you friends no more?" You take a moment, getting choked up by one photo. "Uhm, just went our separate ways. She was on to bigger and better things, and I was still figuring things out." You smile at her, motioning for her to come over to you. You kiss her head. "I love you. Go say goodnight to mommy too, yeah?" She nods, going to get down. "Ok mama!"

A few days had passed and you were planning to meet Billie. You got to go home earlier that day so you decided now was the time. You met at some beach, a calm place to take a walk. "So it's the job you always wanted, the one when we were younger?" The sand was warm, calming everything inside you. "Yeah, not yet but I'm close to." Liar. "I'm so proud of you! Gosh, we both got what we wanted." Your eyes look down, it was all lies. Your whole life. "Anyways enough about me. Hows fame treating you?" She laughs a smidge. "Great but alot of the time not. Majority its amazing. The fans are sweethearts but I hate calling them that. They're just- friends I haven't met yet." You loved how warm she was towards everyone. Happy that hadn't changed in the slightest.

"Latest album has been out for months now and it's doing great." You nod. "It's probably a favorite of mine, I love all the songs. They're absolutely beautiful." She gives you a soft smile. "Thank you, it means alot coming from you." You look at her confused. "Why so?" "Because I loved your judgment years ago, you were so creatively smart. So cute with your ideas. I admired it." Your smile was loving. You haven't heard such nice things in a very. Very, long time. "Well I'm glad I could be of service." Her laugh comes back, booming in your ears. God you missed hearing it. "You still look beautiful, different. But still gorgeous." You blush at her words. "Different?" - "Well, we're all older but you just look so, elegant and-"

She chuckles to herself. "Who is this lucky woman, she should be cheering out of her mind." Your demeanor changes. "Oh stop." You then try to hide. Hide your true emotions. "I mean it! She should know how lucky she is." A silence grows. One with hanging questions, lingering. "Who was that on your phone the other day?" You look at her bewildered. "Your lockscreen I mean." Shit, she did see. "Oh, just my friends daughter." Her brows furrow. "You have your friends daughter as your lockscreen?" Nice going. "Uhhh, yeah I'm like her aunt and she's just so adorable." You just hoped she'd move on. The less she knows the better.

You were currently at Billies place. She invited you for lunch getting to see her brother again after all these years too. You were currently sitting on a soft couch, soaking up the silence between one another. Until...

"Who was that really. On your lockscreen." You smile slightly. "I told you-" "Y/n, I use to date you. I know exactly when you're lying." Everything goes still. "Do you have a kid?" You slowly nod. She looks at you. "Why didn't you just tell me?" Her voice was so soft. You hadn't heard a soft voice other than your daughters in a long time. It was just yelling, yelling and more yelling. "I just-" She gives you a look knowing you were about to come up with some pathetic story. "I didn't want you to know the real me." She laughs a little. "I already do. I knew it all those years ago and I still do. But, you have changed. You're more timid." Your eyes move, looking at her.

"Spill, come on." You sigh, shakily. "I'm not perfect, nothing in my life apart from my daughter is. I didn't want you to think less of me." Her face softened. "I could never. I've always seen you as amazing." You smile again, she always brought out the true you. Maybe thats why you haven't been yourself over the years, she was missing. "When can I meet this angel?" You freeze. "Uhm, I dunno. It's just." She waits for a reply. "I don't think that's a good idea." Shes confused. Incredibly confused. "Why?" "I think I should go." You stand up going to leave but she's quick. "Did I say something wrong?" Your head shakes. "No no! It's just getting late I should get back." Something funny was up, she had a feeling.

"Alright.. I'll text you." You hold a thumbs up scurrying out of there. She was going g to find out whatever it was you were hiding. She needed to.

Another day of arguments. Carely at school. Perfect opportunity to scream. "You're fucking stupid." - "Why now, I've got a million-" Her hand lands straight on your face. Shes only ever done it twice and it ofcourse shocks you each time. She was getting worse and it just frightened you. Who knows what could be next. "Are you talking back?" She sounded like some sadistic man. She sounded exactly like him. "Bri." - "That was a question darling." You cringed inside, swallowing. "No.." She hums. "Good. This argument is stupid, just get back to cleaning." You just wanted to scream and shout. She was insufferable. You hated how weak you'd get whenever she'd yell, it brought up your ptsd. And it made you realize why the slapping didn't bother you as much as it should.

Another thing he did. Did he train her or something it was like being a kid again. Your childhood being relived.

There was a knock on the door but the vacuum cleaner cleared that sound out. Carley on the other hand was in the living room right next to it. She gets up, opening it and gasping. "Y- you're Billie Eilish." She was dumbfounded, feeling like she was dreaming. "Sure am, is your mum home?" She blinks. "My mama? She's hoovering. Come come." Billie giggles at the little girls choice of words, following her into the house. "Mama! Billie Eilish is here, Billie Eilish!" You turn it off shocked. "How did you-" "I know my ways." You stop what you were doing. "What're you doing here?" Carely was so giddy it was nearly impossible to ignore. "Well I hadn't heard back, so I decide the one way that I knew I'd get your attention."

"Just showing up at my home?" You laugh a little. "I mean you wouldn't be able to escape." Carely pokes Billies hand, causing Billie to look down at her. You were so thankful Bri was out drinking. Never a sentence you thought you'd ever utter but here we are. "Ms Billie Eilish, I loveeee your music." Billie laughs again. "Shes interesting." You smile. "She's the sweetest, always so polite." Billie smiles more. "You like my music huh?" Carley nods frantically. "How do you know my mama?" Billie looks at you, not sure what to say. You bend down, wiping hair out of her face. "You know those photos I was looking at weeks ago and you saw that little Polaroid? That was her." She looks at Billie. "Woahhh you were friends with her back then?" You nod.

"You said we were friends." You stand back up. "Well yes, I'm not going to talk about relationships to her she won't really understand anyways." Billie gives you a look. "You're hiding something." You grab the vacuum. "Is this why you came over here?" She nods, making you sigh. "There's nothing Billie I promise." Carely then taps her hand again. "Ms-" "You can just call me Billie, angel." She smiles at her. "Billie, can I show you my room?!" - "Well Billie must be going soon." Her brow raises. "Am I now?" "Mhmm, so be super speedy baby." She pouts. "Naww, ok mama." Carley grabs Billies hand taking her into her room.

You prayed Bri doesn't come back anytime soon. But you doubt she would. "I have a little collection of your stuff!" Billie smiles looking at the CDs and necklaces, even a tiny little purfume bottle as that's all she'd need. The cutest thing ever is she never wants to waste it. You stand at the door, watching. "Wow you have quite a collection little miss. I'm very proud!" She giggles. Picking up the perfume. "I always do one tiny spray each day before I got to school." Billie looks at you. "She the cutest thing ever." "I know." You say lovingly. "What do you say about a bigger one? Just from me. I can give it to you in a few days."

Carleys already bouncing up and down. "Oh my God! Yayyy, Billie Eilish is giving me her perfume!" The jumping continues making Billie smile and laugh. "It's ok, really you don't have to do that." - "I'm not taking no for an answer miss thing." She puts a finger up. Making your eyes roll playfully, ending with a smile. "I better get going kid. In a few days yeah?" Carley nods, watching Billie bend down to hug her. It was so gentle and sweet. This, was how it was suppose to go. Exactly like this.

"I'm home!" Bri yells, Carley flying into her arms. "Mommy!" She smiles. "Hi my princess." You come down to see her, surprisingly not as drunk as she usually is. Damn it. You kinda wished she was because- "What's that smell." Shit. "What smell?" She sniffs. "It smells like perfume- strong one too. Nothing that you wear either." Your heart rate escalates. "Hey mommy! Guess who I met today!" Fuck fuck fuck! "Who did you meet?" "Billie Eilish!" Her brows furrow. "The singer? Now where on earth did you meet her?" 3. 2. 1. "She came to the house!" Bri raises her head looking at you. "Did she really?" Carley nods. "Well that's awesome darling, why don't you go up to your room and blast her music for me?" Fuck. "Okay mommy!"

Her little legs sprint upstairs, soon after hearing a slight boom of the songs. You go to speak but a hard slap goes straight to your face. "You said you blocked her." Shes backing you up. "I- it wasn't planned we bumped into one another in a coffee shop-" You back up in the process. "Cut her off." "Bri-" Your back hits the wall making you gasp. "I can't ju-" Her hand grips your throat. Your eyes widening. "Cut. Her. Off." Flashbacks flicker making you panic. "B-bri!" Her grip tightens. "I don't want that stupid bitch in here again, especially while I'm not here." Your eyes water from the impact her hand is causing. "Understand me?" You nod as best as you could. "Good. Dinner." And that was the last thing she uttered, heading upstairs. You fall to your knees catching your breath.

Knowing that's going to leave a nasty bruise at how harsh she was gripping. You try to calm yourself down, you had to keep going like you were fine. But it was getting harder and harder as days go on.

A few days go by, and you had completely ghosted Billie. You were more scared than you were before, that whole incident the other night was mortifying. So you sadly just listened. The bruise was still there not as evident but noticeable. You had put makeup on it to make it even more invisible. Then something you dreaded happened. There was a knock on the door and you go to open it, ofcourse it was Billie...

"What's happening? I texted you but you-" Her eyes wander. Your brows furrow as to why. Her hand goes to touch your neck. "Is that a bruise?" Fuck, water had splashed when you were doing the dishes. "Oh uh- just burned myself? With a straightener." Curse words fly in your brain, you both knew how horrible of a lie that was. "Did someone do this to you?" Your head shakes quickly. "No i-" But there was no point I finishing, Bri was right behind you. "You must be Billie." She looks at her. "Yes! You must be Y/n's girlfriend." Billie sticks her hand out, only for it to stay there.

"Can we help you." Your gaze lowers, hating every second of this moment. "Uh, I was just coming by to drop a few things off for Carley." And in the nic of time there she was rushing to the door. "Billie!" Bris teeth grind together. You Look out the corner of your eye, cringing. "Hey I, got a wholeeeee box load of stuff for you." She gasps, looking at all the different merch items. "Billie, you really didn't have to." She gives you a smile. Knowing things are strange right now. "I'll just head off, nice meeting you." The door was slammed. Making Billies head turn. She was about to leave, but she overhears.

"I thought I told you to cut her off." You look at Carley. "Go to your room baby." Her features change. She looked scared, the tone is Bris voice not only frightening you but your daughter. That's the last thing you wanted. Now you were angry. As she runs away you look at Bri. "Cut that out." She looked appalled. "The fuck did you just say?" You look at her. Little did you know this most definitely wouldn't go further. "You promised you'd never act that way infront of her." Bri scoffs. "Yeah well guess what I did. Wanna circle back to what you just said to me?" "Yeah. I told you to quit being a piece of shit, especially infront of our daughter."

This was no slap. Far from it. Her fist meets smack dab in the middle of your face. You tumble back at the impact, tripping and landing on your ass. Smacking your head hard, on a wall. You grab your face, but everything was happening fast. The door swung open. A cry was to be heard. Your mind races to that trying to get up but your being pushed back down. Now you're the one in tears. You knew those cries, and you needed to get to them. Everything blurs, your head spinning in the process. You hear a muffled voice saying something along the lines of 'you useless cunt'

But you couldn't care less, all you were thinking about was Carley. Your vision clears a bit, seeing her run over to you and hide behind you. You grip her hand, trying your hardest to stay as conscious as possible. When more smacks are heard you hide your face, hiding hers with it. You soon feel hands grabbing at you. But you were too scared to even fight it. Grabbing Carely in your arms. But it wasn't Bri who grabbed you. You were half way out the door when you realized it was Billie. She hadn't left. No words were spoken, cries from your daughter and swearing clouded your ears.

You look into Billies eyes feeling hopeless. And that's all before things went black.

Your head stirs, eyes opening a tad. You were on some couch. Your head pounded as you sit up slightly. Where were you.. But it clicks when you hear a female voice. Everything floods back. "Where is she?" You say frantically. Billie pushes you back gently. "Shes fine, she's ok. She's downstairs playing with shark." You relax slightly. But that doesn't last long as tears spill out. She brings you into her arms, holding you securely. "It's ok, you're away. You're here. You're safe." You violently shake as things become intense. Her hand soothes your back as you sink further into her touch, her warmth. This stayed that way for a good minute. Before you calm down just a bit.

"Why didn't you try telling me?" Her thumb swipes under your eye. "It's not that easy.. She was the only one I was concerned over." Billies eyes drop with sadness. "You were miserable babe. You needed to think about yourself too." "She was all that was good in my life." You say, tears silently dropping. "I didn't want to screw anything up." The tears start to resurface. "Hey hey, you didn't you're the best mother ever. She's so loved by you, even if that stupid bitch didn't. She knows she's loved. You've done great." It made you want to sob more. Not because you were hurt by her words.

The complete opposite. You hadn't heard such kind things in a very long time. "I'm here. I want to be in your life again, help you. Help raise her even. I miss you and I've never stopped loving you." Her confession makes your tears turn to happy ones. You leap forward and kiss her sweetly. "I've never stopped loving you either." Your foreheads touch, savoring this beautiful moment. "Mama?" You then hear Carleys small voice. You turn your head, wiping your tears. "Hi baby." You smile. "You're ok mama, you can cry." Your face softened, gesturing for her to come over. "You know I love you yeah?"

She nods kissing your cheek. "I don't like mommy no more. She hurt you." She hugs you tight. "I just wanted to protect you." Carley moves to stand infront of you. Her little hands on either side of your face. "You did mama." You kiss her bringing her in close. "Besides, Billie said she can be like my new mommy!" You laugh a little. "You said that?" She shrugs. "More or less." Billie winks at carley, making her grin.

Things were exactly how they were always suppose to be. You lived with Billie now, Carley having a bigger room. More to choose from. Your job was fully sorted, much to the help of your beautiful girlfriend. You felt such love from Billie. She never let you cook unless you really wanted to. Nights were always warm, sleeping beside you. Kisses for days, never ending. She's incredibly good with Carley too, which wasn't surprising. You were currently watching TV, Billie and her sitting on the floor. But let's face it, you weren't actually watching TV, how could you when the two people you adored were being so cute infront of you. "Nooo!" Billie says in the silliest way, playing whatever it was with her. This was the happy ending you wanted.

Although. So much was to be uncovered. Things left unspoken. The drama was surely not over yet.

- uhm so.. might be a new series ? This was unplanned but my brains BURNING with ideas.

[parfaitblogs]

you know what would be cool? A blurb about Spencer and girly!reader who's a total nerd and loves ribbons, dresses and jewels. I HATE the stereotype of nerdy people who don't care much about how they look and dress in a ""weird"" way

spencer reid x girly!reader. fluff. 0.6k words. fem reader. reader likes harry potter (it's briefly mentioned. fuck jkr!)

a/n: so u mean penelope garcia?? kidding! idk how good i feel about this but i really wanted to get this request up sorry it’s so late :( thank you for the request ♡

spencer reid who did not expect to feel anything other than fleeting attraction for the pretty girl he had bumped into at the coffee shop closest to the quantico building. or to actually see you again other than that one moment in the midst of his running-late-to-work panic. only to have found out that the brand new member that aaron hotchner was introducing that day was none other than that same pretty girl. 

who had stammered out another apology — the stack of them were growing quite high for a man you had only met that morning — and introduced himself to you, properly. spencer reid who you could hear telling morgan to shut up, because "she might hear you!" because he was teasing spencer about the way he was looking at you and he feared the absolute worst when it came to girls like you. 

spencer reid who's nerves melted away the first time you contributed something to the team during a briefing — something about the statistics of the child abduction you all were currently investigating, that he was able to bounce off of and agree with. you both had to dumb down the words you had used and explain it to the rest of the team again. which he was used to. he didn't think he'd ever find someone who had to do that as well. 

who listened to you when you began to ramble about this book series you were reading and how cool it is because "it spans like three different continents and there's so many different sub-series but they all connect somehow!" and nobody else was listening. but he was.

spencer reid who began to accept your rides home after you had learned he usually catches the train, because you had discovered he lived only a block away from you. rides home that eventually turned into going over to each other's apartments after that one time he said he wanted to show you the hogwarts lego set because you mentioned liking the series. 

he stopped coming up with excuses to have you over the fourth time, and had simply said "i just want you to come over". that was the day you had discovered you think you might like him. 

spencer reid who let you sleep on his bed despite your own insistence when it hit two in the morning and you both had work the next morning and you were still at his apartment watching doctor who together (he was flabbergasted to learn you had never seen it). 

and he had woken you up the next morning and he was so cute and his hair was sticking up everywhere and he was kind of smiling at you and you confirmed with yourself that yes, you liked him. 

spencer reid who had properly asked you on a date after a long three months of you flirting with him because morgan had been seeing it and was getting sick of him doing nothing about it. who picked you up this time, and had laughed when you wound the windows of his car back up because "my hair will fly everywhere!" and "if i lose this bow, you're paying for a new one spencer reid!"

but he had also kind of forgotten how to talk, when he sat across from you at the kind of dingy italian restaurant (he didn't know where else to take you, okay?). because while he had fallen for a girl who shared so many interests with him he was sure she might be his carbon copy, he was also violently reminded (as he was every time he looked at you) how pretty you were. 

and spencer reid wishes he could describe you with any other word, because he's sure there's bigger and harder to say words out there that could describe you. but none of them made sense the way pretty did. 

you had questioned his silence and he had stammered as much as he did the day you met, and you smiled because if all it took was you dressing up to fluster him, you decided you'd do it a lot more often.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[0mg-bird]

All the Good Stuff ~ B. Floyd x Fem! Reader

Summary: This is basically a list of little imagines of what it would be like over the course of yours and Bob’s relationship.

Warnings: Bob’s the best partner, sweet fluff!, suggestive content, language.

• Bob would be so nervous on a first date because he’s struck out in the past, so when you ask about a second date, he is in shock at your enthusiasm. He’d play it cool around you but would go home and fist bump.

•Being the perfect gentleman he is, he doesn’t expect anything on the first or second date. So when he drives you home on your second date, he’s a little shocked at the way you melt into him at your front door. As soon as you show it’s okay, he’s holding your waist, pulling you into him as he kisses you slowly. He’s the kind of guy to take his time so you’re standing there with your arms around his neck for a while, while you both savor each other.

•This man is in love with you even before you sleep together and that scares him. When the two of you are calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, he takes you to a beach day with his squad and everyone watches how enamored he is with you. Jake says “The sex must be good if you’re acting this hung up on her” when you’re away with Natasha, and Bob gets soooo red. The boys make him explain his weird behavior and when he admits you guys haven’t had sex yet, they all blow up. They’re asking so many questions like ‘why not?’ and ‘what if it’s bad?’ and at one point Bradley actually shakes his shoulders and asks if he’s stupid or just dumb. Bob explains that you don’t seem like you’re ready and Brad and the guys all share a look like ‘what an idiot’. Then they explain all the signs you give that you want him.

•The sex is not bad.

•It all starts with an argument, you finally break down and ask if he’s just not attracted to you. Bob is so confused and has to ask why you think that, then you just yell ‘because you won’t fuck me!’ and that snaps Bob out of his overly nice guy headspace. You guys end up going most of the night, because by the time one round would finish and you’d rest for a second, you two were back at it again because it just felt too good.

• Bob said ‘I love you’ first, on accident. You’d been dating for a month, maybe a little more, and he’d leave your house after a night in together. You kiss him goodbye at the front door, watching him step away from the threshold. You lean against the open door, looking utterly peaceful and cute to him. “I’ll text you in the morning.” He says because he is always up before you, so you like to wake up to a good morning text. You nod and bite your lip. “Okay, good night.” You’d say, then laugh as he kisses you one more time. When he pulls away, he nudges his nose against yours and then turns. “Good night, I love you.” He doesn’t even realize it right away, he takes about four steps before he pauses with realization. You stand there in shock, realizing what he just said. “I…didn’t mean to say that.” He tries to take it back but you just grin widely. “Do you mean that?” You ask, and when he sighs and nods, you rush back into him.

•Bob never thought that he was a very physical person, but since being with you, he loves affection. He’s like a puppy, honestly. He’s always on you in some way, his hand on your back, knees pressed together when sitting beside each other, his finger twisting around a strand of your hair. You are much like him in this aspect, he makes you feel so comfortable and safe that you are utterly relaxed in public when you’re with him. He lets you play with his fingers, trace shapes on the backs of his hands or on his arms, your head finds a way to rest on shoulder, your finger hooks in one of his belt loops.

•This man is calling his Mama and talking about you, it makes him feel like a teenage kid because of how twitter-pated you make him. He could go on and on about how you’re such a kind person, how big your heart is, how you are so intoxicating. He wants to take bigger steps with you but doesn’t want it to be too soon. His mom has to reassure him that when it’s right, it’s right and when he knows, he’ll know.

•You guys move in together at the six month mark.

•This is when he discovers he has a housewife kink. He comes home to you unpacking a few boxes in some sweatpants and one of his t-shirts? He’s hard. Watching you fold towels or wash dishes? He pushing you up against the counter and dipping his head to your neck.

•You’re trying so so hard to be perfect for him because you just want to take care of him, but somehow you burn dinner often. You never had to cook for another person before, you were completely fine with a cup of ramen noodles. But you loved your Bobby, you wanted to prove you could do this. You got so frustrated at yourself when you mess something up, it honestly broke Bob’s heart. He’d ask for seconds on purpose, just to make you feel better.

•Bob buys a ring a month before your one year mark and he’s so sure about this decision. On your year anniversary, he takes you out to dinner and then you guys walk across the beach as the sun is sinking. Natasha planned everything out, her and some of the boys were hiding on the platform trail that’s on a hill above the beach. Even though Jake pretends it’s too sappy, he is standing with binoculars, watching every move you two make and reporting it to Bradley who’s trying to get the camera ready to record. Natasha ends up snatching the phone from Brad because he’s got his finger in front of the camera. Bob is so nervous that his hands are so shaky and he can hardly breathe. At one point, you stop to walk closer to the waters edge to pick up a pretty shell. When you turn back around to show him, he’s down on one knee, holding a velvet ring box out to you. When you agree to marry him, he pulls the ring from the cushion and goes to slide it on your finger, but he’s still shaking so much that it falls into the sand. Jake is making fun of him for it for two weeks.

•You’re so obsessed with the fairly large diamond on your hand, Bob catches you always looking at it. Even during the times you’re on top of him, hand on his chest while you’re grinding down on his lap, or when you’re gripping his shoulder as he’s knocking you into the headboard, you’re eyes are watching the shiny rock on your hand.

• The crew thinks something’s actually wrong with the two of you because you’re always a ‘yes honey’ couple and never quarrel, but everyone gets to their whits end at some point. You and Bob hardly fight, but when you do, it’s all heated arguments and frustrated sighs. You guys fight when the other is feeling a little insecure about something, the problem is you don’t communicate right, until everything bubbles over. You could be feeling that Bob is hiding problems from you, claiming he’s okay because he doesn’t want to stress you out, then he’ll go and have long conversations with Nat or Brad. You guys eventually spiral until every other little thing that’s annoying you is spilled, and by the end of it you’re crying and storming off. Only once did you ever throw your engagement ring at him and claim that you will not be with someone who won’t take you seriously as a partner, and that broke Bob. He was so hurt that he lashed out and said some unkind words he’d never ever mean, then left home to clear his head. When he came home after about an hour, he found you curled in bed, face red from crying so hard. You guys talked it out, he slide your ring back on and once you two understood each other, he made you promise to never do that again, no matter how mad he made you because it made him feel absolutely horrible.

•He loves waking up on days where he doesn’t need to go anywhere or do anything. You’re always curled into him or sprawled across his chest. He used to sleep with a tank top on because for some reason you could not understand, he was a little insecure about himself. You hated that, he was built to absolute perfection, you could spend hours just running your lips and fingers over his toned chest and the muscles the lightly ribbed his stomach. So, Bob slept in mostly just boxers, flannel pants in the winter. You had convinced him to be bare when you told him you liked feeling his skin on yours, it also helped that you hid those white tanks from him until he felt normal to have you pressed against him.

• He’s always been modest, but you found out just how much Bob had in savings when he told you that when you got married, you didn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. Then, when he bought you the wedding dress you had your eyes on since you first searched through bridal shops, no questions asked. You called your best friend and determined he was sent from above. You were never impressed by money, and you’d love Bob if he didn’t have what he has, but knowing that you were financially secure, it made you want to show your appreciation for all he does, every day.

•The bachelor/bachelorette parties went crazy. You and your party are bar hopping, you’re wearing a plastic tiara that says ‘bride’ and Bob’s never seen you drunk before so when you run into him at the hard deck, all he does is laugh at you. You were scared that he wasn’t going to have fun because all his friends drink and he doesn’t, but he spent the night making Payback and Fanboy do stupid stuff for him.

•You never were a fan of over the top weddings, you liked elegant things but didn’t feel the need for an over the top day. You had planned for what seemed like forever, then the day finally came and everything turned out beautifully. Bob was a nervous wreck, he’s got a little anxiety so that didn’t help his nerves. He stood at the end of the isle, watching all the groomsmen and bridesmaids come down, then when everyone stood and a piano rendition of your favorite song played, he looked up and there you were.

• You’re trying not to cry the entire time even though he is.

• Bradley gets drunk and cries during the first dance and Nat has to make him sit down and drink some water before he makes a fool of himself.

• You and Bob honeymoon in some place like Greece or maybe Rome because you both are huge nerds for pretty sights and history. It’s so peaceful that he totally forgets you guys have a life back home and he has a pretty important job.

• When you guys come home, he drives in the other direction of your house so you think he’s lost his mind. When you ask what he’s doing, he just says you’re going home and then pulls into the driveway of a gorgeous two story house that has a very rustic charm to it. This man had your little two bedroom house packed up while you were away and had everything moved into this gorgeous house he picked out.

• You fall in love with life, everything seems so perfect. You’re closer to your family and friends, the sun soaked hardwood floors are always supporting your bare feet as you dance around. Bob loves music, there’s a book shelf full of records and CDs and he’s always twirling you around or slow dancing you in the kitchen.

•He makes sure you have everything you need before he deploys for over a month on a mission. This is the first deployment you experience with him and it’s the first real test on your marriage. Going from sleeping beside someone every night to falling asleep alone was a strange adjustment. He calls you when he can, you’re always lying in one of his shirts, listening to him talk about his day. “I miss you, Bobby.” You’d say, making him smile on the other line. “I miss you too, honey.” He’d say.

• When he comes back home, it’s like a wrecking ball. Bob’s never been an overpowering dominant person, but there’s nothing calm about him when you two get home after not seeing each other. The front door is practically knocked down, it’s slammed shut so hard that you yelp, afraid the hinges might just snap. He’s pushing you up against the wall in the hallway, backing you up against it so hard that one of the framed pictures falls from the place it was hung. You’re so utterly at a loss for words at his animalistic behavior, yet you’re so excited and turned on because he isn’t like this. You’re pulling at his uniform, leaving parts of it on the stairs. Your sundress is thrown onto the bathroom tile as he pulls you into the shower with him, both of you still half dressed. Soaking wet, peeling fabric off each other, it may start in the shower but it doesn’t end there. He’s carrying you to the perfectly made bed, hair still wet, he’s pushing you into the mattress, his dog tags are hanging above you and you wrap your finger around the chain to pull him closer. The house looks like a tornado ripped through it buy the time both of you are too tired to continue. You honestly think you black out because when you wake up on the living room floor, you don’t remember exactly how you got there.

• You might just die when Bob goes to answer the door, hopping into a pair of sweatpants. You remember getting dressed when you thought you were done…then you remember tearing those sweatpants off of him. He opens the door, eyes immediately widening as he looks at who’s on the other side. “Hi.” He greets awkwardly. “My daughter hasn’t answered my calls, I was just seeing if she was alright.” The woman says, hugging her son in law. You hear your mother’s voice and panic, trying to stand and search for a hoodie to slip on to cover yourself. You limp over, very aware at how sore your body feels, and hide yourself behind your husband. You have to explain that your phone was dead and that’s why you didn’t answer…nothing else. But she looks between the two of you and then behind you to the catastrophe of a home. “You’re going to get pregnant.” She tells you. “That’s sort of the goal, ma’am.” Bob responds.

• You took sex ed in school, you know what happens when you have unprotected sex, but truthfully you believed the birth control that you mixed up the days on had your back. You start feeling a little funny, then when you’re late on your next cycle, the fear sets in. You don’t know why you’re scared, you have no reason to be, but you still are. Standing, looking at all the different tests hung on the shelf, you decide that one of each couldn’t hurt. You debate on who to call, once you decide, your best friend is there within ten minutes. “Why’d you buy every single one to ever be made in the world?” They ask as you lay them all out on the bathroom counter. “I didn’t buy every one in the world…just the ones made in America.” You respond. It’s the longest five minutes you ever experienced, you sit on your bed crying and freaking out, hashing out every little thing that could go wrong. Your best friend is there to call you crazy and debunk every fear. “It’s too soon.” “You got married after only knowing him a year.” “What if Bob decides he doesn’t want this?” “That man sends you onesies with planes on them all the time.” “What if he doesn’t love me after I give birth?” “He’d love you if you were a worm.” “What if I can’t do it? I’ve never raised a kid before.” “You’ll be fine.” After the timer goes off and you dry your face, you two walk back into the bathroom slowly. Every single test you took is positive. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m pregnant.” Is all you could say, first in fright, but soon you’re jumping up and down and screeching like a teenage girl.

• Bob comes home from work, unzipping his flight suit as soon as he walks through the door. You come to meet him in the foyer, kissing him sweetly. “Hi.” He smiles. “I’ll go take a quick shower, then I’ll be down for dinner, okay?” You just nod, keeping quiet so you didn’t burst into tears right away. You hear his shower going, and you pace back and forth in the kitchen, shaking. Every shape and color of the tests you took are laid on the table, you don’t even know what to tell him when he comes down. He’s starting to tell you about something that happened when he pauses, curious as he walks to the table. “What…what’s all this?” He asks, picking one of the tests up, looking at the two pink lines. Then he picks up another, and another before it starts to click in his mind. He looks at you, eyes full of hope. “You’re pregnant?” You nod, starting to cry. “Yeah, Bobby, I’m pregnant.” He immediately wraps his arms around you, kissing you sweetly. He’s so over joyed, he can’t even think straight.

• For nine months, he treats you like you’ll break and though you love him for it, you think it’s all a little dramatic. He’s so gentle and understanding throughout everything, even when your hormones are just totally unbalanced and you’re crying or yelling for no reason. He’s so caring and helps you with anything he can, and when the baby is born he makes sure you’re the top priority too.

•Dad Bobby is hot.

[nadvs]

what would be the first time that rafe calls reader baby? (sleeping w the enemy )

oooo it slips out in a moment of comfort 🤭 also this got so long omg but i love hurt/comfort too much!!

based on this fic, combined with this ask

a couple of months after she starts messing around with rafe, she meets a guy at the library. they double-booked the same study room and they start talking and eventually exchange numbers. she quickly develops a crush on him.

at first, she told rafe she’s giving up on relationships, ranting about how she’ll always just get her heart broken, but this guy is so sweet and sincere and interested, so she says yes when he asks her on a date, figuring she shouldn’t always expect the worst from men.

the night after the date, she and rafe are hanging out in her dorm and she tells him about how good of a time she had, that maybe this guy is relationship material.

rafe is a total dick about it. she didn’t expect him to be thrilled, but at the bare minimum, he could pretend to be happy for her.

“so, what?” he snips coldly after she tells him about how much fun it was. “you got a boyfriend now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asks, upset at his sudden bitterness.

they’re sitting on her bed. he thought she invited him over to hook up. but this feels like a break-up in a weird way.

“you said you weren’t looking for that,” he states.

he’s right. she was adamant about how much she didn’t want a relationship.

“i’m allowed to change my mind,” she replies. “i was just saying. it was one date. i don’t know where it’s going to go. why are you so mad?”

rafe doesn’t even really know himself. but the anger running through him is white hot. like always, he tells her what he’s really thinking, sparing no feelings.

“because we can’t do this anymore,” he admits. “not if you’re going to be someone’s girl.”

honestly, he would keep hooking up with her even if she was in a relationship. but he knows she would never cheat.

she’s quiet for a moment, looking down at her lap.

“we can still be friends,” she finally says, embarrassed when her voice starts to tremble. “unless you only hang out with me for…?”

rafe knows what she means. unless he only hangs out with her for sex.

his jaw tightens. he can feel it bubbling in him, his impulse to hurt, to be spiteful. it’s the only way he knows how to deal when someone makes him feel like this.

“you’re an idiot if you think we’ll stay friends,” he says. he watches the light leave her eyes. she’s not angry anymore. she’s just sad.

“wow,” she scoffs. “fuck you.”

“no, i mean,” he begins, “he’s not gonna want you hanging around with a guy you were hooking up with.”

“as if you give a shit what he wants,” she mutters. “you’re back-tracking because you know that was an asshole thing to say.”

it’s his turn to go quiet. finally, she sighs and stands and crosses the room to open the door.

“just go,” she says. tears prick her eyes and for once, she hides her feelings from him, looking away. “if you really think i’m only worth keeping around if i’m putting out, you can leave.”

she half-hopes he’ll fight her on it. but he doesn’t. he leaves.

when he gets home, rafe realizes he wasn’t actually honest with her. but that’s because he wasn’t even honest with himself. he’s jealous.

he thought they were on the same page about not wanting anything serious. but he can’t ignore the gnawing sense of inadequacy. she changed her mind. she’d be willing to be a girlfriend. but for someone else. this other guy is worth the reconsideration. and rafe isn’t.

he hates that he cares; he doesn’t even want a relationship. and he hates that she was right. it was an asshole thing to say.

a couple of weeks later, the guy she was seeing ghosts her. and she and rafe haven’t spoken. the only contact they’ve had is a few tense glances at the basketball court when he comes to play against her college. and he views all her snap stories. she doesn’t get why he even cares to check.

the rejection stings. she knows she shouldn’t look for validation in guys, and she tries her hardest not to, but why don’t relationships ever work out? is there something wrong with her?

rafe is still pissed. mainly because he misses her. they were messing around, but she really was his friend, too. there’s a hole in his life where she used to be.

when he sees her courtside one night, cheering for his opponents, he lets his eyes linger on her longer than he usually allows himself to since their falling out. he keeps waiting for the moment he won’t care about her anymore. but it’s not coming.

the whistle signals the end of the third quarter and finally, rafe pushes past his pride to go talk to her.

she notices her friends on the squad looking surprised at something over her shoulder. and then she turns to see rafe approaching her, his skin flushed from how much he’s been running across the court.

“you guys ever get any new songs?” he mutters, hoping she’ll ease into teasing each other like they always used to do.

“you mean cheers?” she says coldly. “sometimes.”

she averts her gaze, uninterested and bitter.

“how’ve you been?” he asks quietly.

“oh, great,” she answers. “busy being an idiot.”

rafe mumbles her name in irritation.

“i was right, though, wasn’t i?” he says. her face twists in disbelief. “not about that. about how he doesn’t want us hanging out.”

“i wouldn’t let a guy dictate who i can be friends with,” she replies. “but it doesn’t even matter. it didn’t work out.”

rafe searches her face.

“you didn’t tell me.”

“please,” she scoffs. “why would i? you only want me to call you to hook up. that’s all i’m good for, right?”

he huffs an annoyed sigh. but he doesn’t deny it.

“shouldn’t you be giving a pep talk to your team?” she says. she turns around, clearly done with the conversation.

his game ends in a loss. and honestly, rafe blames her. she got in his head. he was distracted.

he sees on her story later that night that she’s out at a restaurant. he feels like such a wuss for hoping she’s there with her girlfriends and not some guy. he can’t tell by the photo.

an hour later, he texts her: you still out? can i come over?

she doesn’t reply. maybe it was a date. maybe the guy’s over at her place. after ten minutes, he texts to clarify: just to talk.

she gives in and replies: fine. i’m home.

when rafe knocks on her door, he’s weirdly nervous. she answers it with a scowl, still clearly upset.

“just to talk, huh?” she says.

rafe rolls his eyes and steps into her dorm. he can smell her perfume. her room. it’s so fucking corny but the way she smells makes him feel so damn comfortable. he didn’t know he could miss a smell.

“yeah,” he says gruffly. he settles on the edge of her bed. it makes his chest ache when she sits at her desk instead of next to him.

“then talk.”

“my bad, alright?” he says tensely. “i’m sorry. you’re not an idiot. i shouldn’t have said that. i was just…”

rafe can’t say the word jealous out loud. it’s so heavy.

“you were what?” she says.

“pissed that this was ending,” he finally mutters. “i don’t… like not having you around.”

she runs her fingers over the back of her chair, unsure of what kind of territory this conversation is falling into.

“well, this didn’t have to end. we could’ve at least stayed friends,” she says.

the sound of the word could’ve is so final. rafe hates it. it feels like she’s committed to cutting him out of her life. and it’s agonizing, the thought of permanently losing someone who he can joke around with, who always gives it to him straight, who he has so much fun with that time stops.

“we could’ve?” he mutters. it’s humiliating how quiet his voice has gotten.

“yeah,” she says, not sensing how harsh her words were. “and i already told you. it didn’t even work out with him, so we fought for nothing.”

she looks down, her features falling with sadness. rafe studies her. his sense of protectiveness sparks like a fire.

“what’d he do?” he mutters.

“he just stopped talking to me,” she says with a defeated laugh. “i thought things were going well. i don’t…”

“what?” he asks.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admits, her glossy eyes landing on his.

rafe is shit at emotions. he doesn’t know what to do when he cries, let alone when someone cries around him. he sticks to what he knows with her. straight-up honesty.

“nothing’s wrong with you,” he tells her.

“yeah, it is,” she says. “guys never want to stick around. and i don’t mean you. i mean guys i’m dating. at some point, i have to look at the common denominator. i must be boring.”

“no, baby, you’re not boring,” rafe says. then he looks away and breathes in slowly. what an embarrassing slip-up.

“you’re not boring,” he repeats. “you’re…” every word that comes to mind to describe her, amazing, beautiful, special, it’s all feels so weird for him to say out loud. especially after he just called her baby.

“you’re the best.” it’s corny, but he’ll be corny if it’ll make her feel better. “i wasn’t keeping you around only for… that. we can just be friends.”

her lips quirk up in a small smile. the best. he’s never given her a compliment like that.

“can an idiot be the best?” she mumbles.

“i didn’t mean that. i’m sorry.” he purses his lips. “and you’ve called me worse.”

“as a joke,” she counters. “you know that.”

“yeah,” rafe relents. “i do.”

“never called you baby, though,” she teases, the ice between them finally melting.

“listen…” rafe sighs, scratching the back of his neck. he needs to change the subject. he doesn’t know why he said that. “i’m just saying it’s not on you that so many guys are losers. he’ll regret messing things up with you.”

she takes a moment to let his words sink in. she knows he really, truly believes that.

“thanks,” she says. “maybe you are a good friend.”

“you thought i wasn’t?” he asks. he loves that she’s smiling again. that they’re joking around again.

“let’s see… a good friend would take me out and buy me a sweet treat right now,” she says with a shrug.

rafe stuffs his hand in his pocket to fish his car keys out.

“where are we going?” he sighs, pretending to be annoyed. in reality, he’s so damn happy to be good with her again. even without the prospect of sex.

“i’ll decide in the car,” she says, standing up. “and i’m still mad at you, just so you know.”

“you’ll get over it.”

“maybe i won’t,” she says. he follows her out the door, pacing down the long corridor with her. “what then, baby?”

“shut up,” he laughs, embarrassed, nudging her shoulder.

“never,” she replies. and he’s glad, because he doesn’t want her to shut up. honestly, he doesn’t want her to ever stop talking to him.

he’s never going to let that much time pass again after a fight. because fights are inevitable. they’re too similar not to butt heads. but he’s not putting himself through the torture of allowing her to step back from his life. he kind of needs her at this point.

as a friend, he tells himself. that’s all. but maybe he’s doing it again - lying to himself.