#also I very much. cheated for the song question

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

For cWilbur: 2, 5, 24, and 25

For Ghostbur: 3, 5, 12, and 21!

Wilbur

Favorite canon thing about this character?

Oooh… this is an interesting question, because I’ve actually wondered, time and time again, why I like Wilbur so much. He’s not really my type; I almost always prefer the sweet, kind, overlooked weirdo side characters, and Wilbur is kinda the opposite of that lol. So it’s kinda hard to answer this :0

Probably his angst lol. I hekkin enjoy angst, and boy oh boy does Wilbur have a lot of it! His crippling anxiety during L’manburg, his downward mental spiral during Pogtopia, his breaking point, his time spent in Limbo, coming back with a terrified desperation written all over his features, being unable to process the fact that people—some people—are giving him second chances & showing him genuine kindness… bro. It’s so freaking good.

What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

OOOH OOOH OOOH

Enemy by Imagine Dragons!! It fits him so freakin well during Pogtopia, and other eras of his life too!! Also Fire In The Driveway by Soccer Mommy :’) That song really hurts, and the crimeboys-ness is actually insane.

What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

OOOOOOH :0

Cassian Andor!! Specifically from the Andor series! He gives off Wilbur vibes to me—probably because he wears a coat that looks just like Wilbur’s Pogtopia coat XD Also the Angst and Pain and Wet Cat Vibes.

What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I liked him from the start :) I was actually introduced to the DSMP fandom by a friend, and because watching vods sounded too daunting, she decided to write a fanfic for me that basically took the early L’manburg arc and put it into a story form! So that was my first time interacting with c!Wilbur :)

I thought he was nice & a good leader, and his & Sally’s past relationship intrigued me—as did his relationship with Phil! But other than that, I didn’t have too many thoughts. I liked Wilbur, but I didn’t think about him often.

Now? Oh gosh. He elicits so many emotions within me. He’s in so much pain. He tried to be a leader and it didn’t work. He and Sally didn’t work. He and Phil didn’t work. He and Tommy are broken. He and Tubbo didn’t work. He feels like he is only capable of causing pain and destruction. He’s scared. He wants to be better. He wants to make amends. He’s not good at apologizing. He’s emotional. He treasures every compliment he receives. He’s very sad. He doesn’t get better. He’s trying.

IN SHORT, I ADORE THE MAN. HE’S SUCH A GOSHDARNED CHARACTER. HE’S SO- AAAAAAAA

He was actually my favorite character before Ghostbur was :0 The first year or so I was in the DSMP fandom, Wilbur was absolutely my favorite :) Which sounds strange now aksgajsgajsg but gosh, he’s still very special to me and I think about him a lot.

Ghostbur

Least favorite canon thing about this character?

The fact that he is in Limbo—and not only that, but the fact that he’s happy there. It makes me actually upset to think about.

Being in Limbo is bad enough on its own. It’s horrific!! And Ghostbur believing that he deserved Limbo, and that he failed everyone, and that he hurt everyone… is even worse. Because it’s not like there was anyone there to tell him otherwise 😭

Then Friend came along, which is… good? I’m glad that Ghostbur isn’t lonely anymore, and that he’s reunited with his sheep, but like… I don’t know, I feel like a lot of people—including Ghostbur’s creator—believe that this is a happy ending for Ghostbur. But it’s not. I firmly believe that it’s not.

Ghostbur has Friend, and he’s not in as much pain anymore, and he even calls Limbo his home, but I kinda think that’s… worse, in some ways, than seeing Limbo as what it actually is: a hell. Like on the one hand I’m so relieved that Ghostbur is feeling better, but on the other hand I’m like NO!!! NO GHOSTBUR!!! THIS IS NOT A HAPPY PLACE!!! STOP BELIEVING THAT THIS IS A HAPPY PLACE!!! IT’S NOT!!! YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!!! YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!!! THIS IS NOT A GOOD PLACE!!!

And it’s a bit of a hopeless situation, because obviously DSMP is over and there’s no more lore coming out, which means that Ghostbur’s story, canonically, ends in Limbo. This has made me cry on a few occasions oh my dear gosh. It’s not happy, I will not believe that it’s happy, and I’m pretty sure it will forever make me upset 😭

What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Today and Tomorrow by Grace Vanderwaal! The ukulele, the calm, the gentleness… very fitting :’)

Also Friend’s Song by ButterscotchBread!!

OH OH OH!!! CLAP YOUR HANDS BY YOUNG RISING SONS!!! OHHHHH MY GOSH. THE SAD LYRICS COUPLED WITH SUCH A FUN, BOUNCY, HAPPY BEAT?? OH COME ON. THAT IS SO GHOSTBUR.

One more: Sugar In My Coffee by The Narcissist Cookbook. The Ghostbur vibes are off the charts.

What's a headcanon you have for this character?

So many, just so many.

One of my oldest headcanons is that he likes to hold people’s hands & trace over the lines with his finger :) It’s a calm, quiet, repetitive activity, and it makes him very happy—and also shows the other person that he loves them! He really only does this with Tommy, and Tommy quickly grows used to it and basically has no reaction whenever Ghostbur does it. It just becomes Normal, a part of their friendship.

The mental image of Ghostbur gently grabbing onto Tommy’s hand and rubbing his finger over it is just… very touching, to me.

If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

I really enjoy writing his inner thoughts/exploring the ways he views the world!! He’s truly got such a unique personality, and I’ve found him to be one of the most distinct characters I’ve ever written; his voice is so audible and clear and different, even when he isn’t actually saying anything out loud. He’s such a guy!!

It’s a little hard for me to figure out how to write his amnesia, but I mainly choose not to focus on that, so… it’s not a super big deal for me 😅

[hysteria-things]

hello again !! i know you just posted my last request but i have another idea !

• SMUTTY PLSZ

• matt/chris x teacher!reader

So basically, chris/matt are in senior year or any year in college and he has a teacher(reader) who's quite young and closer to their age but is still older and knowing men, she's already very popular in their school y'know y'know?

ALSO if you're gonna make the other students be a big part of the story too or add more plot, pls don't make the girls of the school hate her. it just feels unrealistic since in our school, it's mostly the girls that simp for the hot female teacher lmao

This idea was based on their video "truth or eat" i think(i forget everything) where he was asked if he's ever had a crush on a teacher and he answered yes w no hesitation and also the song "Teacher's Pet" by Melanie Martinez but switched genders.

i just think the male being the teacher and the female being the student felt overused/overdone(?)

Only if you're comfortable w this idea tho !!

TEACHER'S PET (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x teacher!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt asks for extra help after class (even though he knows exactly what he’s doing)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!), degradation, cheating (cheat on tests, not people), hair pulling, spanking, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,236

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: shoutout any of you in college i dropped out after a month i give you guys so much credit that shit’s hard😔

for @skadltmf :)

matt and his college friends sit at the round table in the food court. they’re at the home stretch of senior year with the spring semester starting tomorrow.

“i got that hot professor for one of my morning classes.” one of his friends brags. “she’s so fine.”

“who?” matt asks, and the two sitting with him stare at him like he should know this.

“professor l/n.” the other one starts. “literally everybody is obsessed with her. she’s only twenty-five; three years older than us.”

“there’s no way she doesn’t let students fuck her to get a good grade.” they both laugh, but matt stays quiet. his friends are in their conversation about you while matt thinks to himself.

he has you for a class too but at 6 PM.

you stand at the front of the class, teaching like a normal teacher should. half of the class never pays attention, anyway, but you still have to do your job.

they may not know, but you listen. you listen to what they say about you, and to be honest it boosts your ego.

one student in particular actually pays attention and takes notes, like what he’s doing right now. you couldn’t help but stare at him from time to time, and he’ll already be staring at you when you do.

you’re grading papers on your desk as your students work independently for the last fifteen minutes of class. you feel a presence, and you look up to see him there, fiddling with his worksheet.

you smile at him. “hello, matt. do you need help with something?”

“kind of. will i be able to stay after class?”

your phone lights up, and he glances at the lock screen. it’s a photo of you, your husband, and your son. “of course you can.”

he nods, going back to his seat.

the last fifteen minutes went by in a breeze, and all of the students left. except for one, of course.

you stand up and go over to the whiteboard, grabbing a marker just in case you need to explain something. “so, matt. what is it that you needed help with?”

“this question,” he says, stepping closer to you and pointing at the paper. you look at it confused because he already answered it. flawlessly.

“matt.” you chuckle. “you’ve got the problem right and showed your work perfectly. are you sure that’s the right one?”

his cheeks flush as he grabs your face, kissing you passionately. you pull away from his hold, weirdly sad that you did.

this is a first. you know the rumors that go around saying that you fuck students for an A+ but it’s not true. hell, you’ll lose your job.

he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, and you stare back. what you did next was a completely new person.

you go back in, his tongue inserting your mouth and swirling inside. this is so fucking wrong, but it feels so… right?

whining into the kiss, you move your hands down to his belt to unbuckle it. he chuckles, pulling away and pushing your head so you get on your knees.

he takes off his undergarments, revealing his—

your eyes widen. oh, god.

his red tip slides against your lips before you open, pushing himself into your wet mouth. “fuck.” he whispers.

grabbing onto your hair, he guides your head up and down his cock. he groans, leaning over and rutting his hips further into your mouth. your gagging fills the empty classroom, and spit starts to spill from your mouth.

it clicks in your head what you’re doing. you have a husband and child at home, for christ’s sake. you place your hands on his thighs and try to push your head back, but his grip is far too strong.

he slowly pulls out to watch his dick move past your lips, and slams back in. “take it, sweetheart. just like that.”

you keep gagging around him, your eyes becoming glassy as your mascara starts to smudge.

your lashes flutter each time he thrusts to the back of your throat before he stops. “s-shit.” he whimpers, but he doesn’t want to cum just yet. he closes his eyes to ignore the throbbing, pulling out of your sweet mouth. you cough, your lips swollen.

“bend over for me, yeah?” he smirks when you scramble to your feet. he grabs your waist, pushing your back so your stomach lays flat on your desk.

he lifts your skirt, moving your soaked underwear to the side. he wraps a finger around them and lets go, the elastic snapping against your core. you yelp at the sudden pain.

“such a slut.” he groans, inserting his tip into your folds but staying still. “letting one of your students shove his dick down your throat.”

he moves his tip out, but then puts it back in, thrusting it in and out teasingly. “bet you were thinking about this the whole lecture. i saw the way you were looking at me.”

you pathetically whine and nod. then, he grabs your hair so the upper half of your body is lifted from the wood. your hips dig into the edge of the desk as he starts entering you.

the stretch hurts, but it feels too good. your eyes flutter back, but a hand landing on your ass gets you out of your trance. he chuckles, taking the hand that’s not on your head and covering your mouth with it. “don’t be too loud, baby. don’t want the people outside that door knowing what a whore you are for me.”

he slides in deeper, a moan leaving your lips that’s muffled by his hand. he starts rutting his hips, going faster when you fit around him. “m-matt.” you gasp.

“so fucking tight around my cock.” he breathes out. your pleasurable cries and squelching of your pussy fill the room, along with his thighs slapping against your ass.

he removes his hand from your mouth, honestly forgetting that there are probably people around. all he’s focused on is pounding the daylights out of you. his teacher, mind you.

you grip the desk for support, moaning louder than any other time when his tip starts brushing against your cervix. “holy— shit.” you hoarsely scream, squeezing your eyes shut.

he lets go of your hair, your head immediately falling between your shoulders. “i’m gonna cum!” you warn, whimpering when he moves more mercilessly. both your thoughts and guts are getting scrambled at once.

“i wonder how disappointed your husband will be if he saw you like this.” he grunts and thrusts a few more times before continuing. “clenching around my dick, so badly wanting my cum inside you.”

you moan at his words. he feels so fucking good. you hate to admit it, but this is the best sex you’ve had in years.

“want me to fuck my baby inside you, you filthy whore?”

“y-yes, please,” you whine, repeating yourself over and over again.

you cum around him at the same time he stops deep, spreading your legs wider to finish inside. you moan one last time before becoming a rag doll, the bruises forming on your hips from them banging against the desk.

he moves your underwear back over your freshly bred pussy, kissing your shoulder and neck before whispering into your ear. “i’ll let you know when i need help again, professor l/n.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter 𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂: 𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝘼 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝘼𝙇!!

In celebration of reaching 3,000 followers on Tumblr, it seems ayyypee has decided to host her very first collab!!! The theme is Celebrity Scandal!

What are your favorite celebrity anime men, women or you (the reader) up to these days? New relationships? Maybe a nasty breakup or divorce. Cheating? Leaks, Murder, Cover ups?! There's so much to report on and so little time. But rest assured, The Jujutsu Journal will find out. Someone is always watching.

Status: CLOSED (Stories will be posted as they are received!)

𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨

✩˚｡⋆ This is an 18+ collab! Minors dni

✩˚｡⋆ All characters portrayed must be 18+ (No aging up of minor characters pls, but if there is a canon timeskip, that's fine. Just write them as their adult selves.)

✩˚｡⋆ It does not have to be only an x Reader pairing!

✩˚｡⋆ Open to ANY fandom (Even though it says Jujutsu Journal lol)

✩˚｡⋆ You can join with as many fandoms and as many characters as you wish

✩˚｡⋆ Both NSFW and SFW works are allowed!

✩˚｡⋆ If you use any topics that need a warning, please use warnings and tag appropriately!

✩˚｡⋆ That being said, dark content is fine as long as it is not any of the following: Non-con, r*pe, beastiality, incest/stepcest, pedophilia

✩˚｡⋆ No particular format or word length required. And you can even do art! Just let me know what you’ll be doing!

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍

✩˚｡⋆ To join, please send me an ask, or you can dm me! Also I'm nosy so let me know what your idea(s) are! Like Stalker!Paparazzi Sukuna x Reader LMAO)

✩˚｡⋆ The deadline for submission for the collab is July 20th

✩˚｡⋆ I would also REALLY appreciate it if people reblogged this post so that it's boosted!

✩˚｡⋆ Please tag me in your works and use the tag: #JujutsuJournal after you're done. I'll add it to my Masterlist and reblog it on my account! I know the tagging system is bonkers right now though, so if tagging doesn't work, you can just send me an ask.

✩˚｡⋆ If you have any other questions, just let me know!

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙂𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘿𝙪𝙩𝙮:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

@ayyy-pee ✩ LEAKED - model!shokoieiri x model!ioriutahime x PR Manager!reader

@tojiscumdumpster ✩ stalker!model!naoya x journalist!blackreader

@bungalowbear ✩ Subtle Curves - stuntman!toji x actress!reader

@lost-immortality ✩ EARLY 2000s CELEB GOSSIP BLOG ART

@lemonlover1110 ✩ HEADLINES - actor!toji x reader

@xo2dee ✩ actress!yuki x actress!reader

@yasu-1234 ✩ tailor!higuruma x movie star!reader

@fizee: ✩ Non Disclosure Agreement - ceo!naoya x femdom!reader

@toasted-ry3bread ✩ nanami x actress!reader

@pattycakes5516 - ✩ What It Takes to Win - probasketballplayer!suguru x criticalsportsanalyst!reader

@kentocalls ✩ manager!geto x idol!reader ✩ farmer!satoru gojo x actress!reader

@violetsaffron5 ✩ nepo-babystalker!gojo x reader

@hyperfixationsporfavor ✩ Memories - actor!sugurugeto x director!reader

@brujawrites ✩ nepobaby!gojo x interviewpersonality!reader

@storiesoflilies ✩ cherry cola, cigarette kisses - guitarist!toji x singer!reader

@joontroverted ✩ WWE! Yuki Tsukumo

@senseifupa - ✩ Don't You Know Your Body Been Mine? - modernroyal!/socialite Nanami x Blk PSmodel! Reader

@ohheyjudesummers ✩ playboy!rockstar!suguru geto x reader/OC

@minimomoe ✩ Songs for You - rock star!satoru gojo x fem reader

@fushitoru ✩ provolleyballplayer!gojo x fem reader

©ayyypee, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. please ask before translating any of my works!

Banner Credit: @benkeibear!

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

lips of an angel

pairing: married! leon x marriage counselor! reader

cw: infidelity, p in v, oral, over-usage of 'good girl', regret, leon is an asshole (like, he's really a dick), reader is also not a good person (so, hopefully it's ooc for u lol), not proofread enough

summary: leon is married to ashley (she deserves better) and he cheats on her with reader who is the marriage counselor

a/n: based on a reddit post lol. also, it's time for us to admit that lips of an angel is such a fucking good song and leon would listen to it. (imagining this is id! leon and that song came out around that time so actually it's perfect. anyway, bye)

wc: 2.7k

[edit] taglist

@rigorwhoring

@dilfprayers

@porcelainseashore

@dollita-fawn

@xoxoloveless

@admirxation

@pawrincss

@onlyasimp4-2dbitches

@pr3ttyd0llie

It starts like many horror stories do: with a knock at the door. He's tall, dark, and handsome, standing in the doorframe. Except not that dark, not very tall at all, but incredibly handsome and you've come to find over the sessions you've spent together that his looks are your weakness. His weakness is you. And many other women. Including his wife, who usually attends these sessions, but tonight, he comes alone. Maybe it's the rain that's beating down on the windows - thought it should sound like a warning - that makes you feel sympathetic enough to let him in when you know you shouldn't.

You let him sit on your couch, but make him hang up his leather jacket on the coat rack so he doesn't ruin the furniture. So you can see his biceps better. And his forearms when he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The first two buttons are already undone, but that's how he always dresses. You know this because you spend too much time looking at him. What does his wife wear? Skirts? Dresses? Pantsuits? She could wear a goddamn clown costume to every session and you'd be none the wiser because you're staring at her husband like he's a piece of meat.

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but why are you here?" you ask him. "Your appointment isn't until Wednesday."

"I'm having marriage troubles. I thought you might be able to help."

It's in the job title: marriage counselor.

"Where's Ashley?" It's a loaded question, and the gun is pointed at your entire fucking career.

"She couldn't come. Plus, I don't think she'd like to know about these problems I'm having."

You take a deep breath, contemplating absolutely nothing because you've already made your choice. You made your choice months ago when you had your first appointment with the Kennedys.

“Remember when I said I had a history of cheating?”

“I do. Has this become a problem again?”

“Not exactly,” he says with a slight chuckle that you later find is ironic in nature. “But I’ve been having thoughts…”

“Are these thoughts sexual?”

“Very.”

“Have you tried taking care of it yourself?” You make a hand gesture to signal ‘if you know what I mean’ and pray he knows what you mean so you don’t have to say the words ‘jerk off’ explicitly.

“Yes, but it hasn’t worked.” He looks directly into your eyes when he says it.

"Are these thoughts about a specific person?"

"Yes." 

His answers, which are limited to only a few words at a time, make you feel like you're shaking up a magic 8 ball, and the blue goop reveals a die that has little to say beyond 'It is certain', 'My sources say no', and 'Try again later'. 

“Is there a way you could distance yourself from this person so you don’t have any potential ‘slip ups’?” you ask.

“Sure, but I’d have to stop counseling if I did.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kennedy-”

“Leon.”

“Right. Leon, I’m not trying to be presumptuous, but are you insinuating that these thoughts are about me?”

“That they are.” His smile gives you a golden star-shaped sticker for guessing correctly.

You give him a scowl. "I'll set you up with a new therapist, then."

“Let me ask you something,” he says, leaning forward, staring right into your soul. “Are you attracted to me too?”

“I’m not comfortable answering-”

“That’s not a ‘no’. Is it?”

You try to wipe the look of shock arousal off your face.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it. I remember you asking a lot of questions about my sex life, especially the parts that don’t involve my wife, and getting visibly flustered when I answered them.”

“Of course I asked questions like that. I’m a therapist. It’s what I do. I’m sorry if you-” 

You should ask him to leave, separate yourself before you explode in frustration. Getting defensive is not a healthy way to argue. You know this. You've told him this.

“If I remember correctly you asked me about how I touch myself, when I do it, if I watch anything.” He doesn't wait for a response from you, but it wouldn't have come anyway. “And, the whole time you were sitting there chewing on your pen, pretending not to imagine it. And then writing it down in a hurry, making sure you got down every little detail.” He taps on your pad of paper.

“Can I see this for a moment?” He snags it from the table beside you and flips through the pages. Without thinking, you leap forward and try to snatch it from him, falling into his lap.

The embarrassing part is when he lifts you off of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s highly confidential!”

“Mr and Mrs. Kennedy,” he begins to read imitating your voice.

“Enough.” You use your sternest voice with him - which is far from stern.

“It says right here that Mr. Kennedy is 'a total dick’ but ‘totally fuckable’.”

“It does not!”

“You’re right. It doesn’t. But you were thinking it. Weren’t you?” He looks up with a smile on his face that’s both charming and cruel.

"I'm not playing whatever game you're trying to play with me right now, Leon."

It's the devil's edition of 20 questions, it seems.

He flips the pad closed, and says, “I’ll leave right now if you answer one question truthfully.”

“Fine," you huff, snatching the pad of paper and stashing it out of his reach.

“Did you go home and touch yourself while thinking about me?”

You shake your head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not."

“You couldn’t even make it home, huh? You did it right here, didn’t you?”

You don't have to answer - the look on your face gives it away.

“Was it on the couch? Right where I was sitting? Where I'm sitting right now."

“Fine. You win, you got it right. Are you happy now?” You concede because you want to end this conversation as quickly as possible, so you can go hide your face and die. 

You want him to fuck you within an inch of your life and then you'll die happily. La petite mort? That's what they call it, right? You want that.

Leon just hums in response, giving you no insight into his thoughts. Though it doesn't take a therapist to guess that he's mentally fucking you. To your surprise, he slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up.

When he gets to the door, you say, “Wait-”

“What?” He asks, nonchalant to such a degree that one might believe the events of the previous few minutes never transpired at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Like I said I would.”

“You’re just gonna leave? Do you get off on embarrassing people? Is that it?”

“No. I get off to you, and you know that." He's oddly defensive despite having the upper hand. "I also know that a large part of you despises me, but it’s because there’s a part of you that wants to fuck me.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shrugs. “You’re the therapist, not me.”

“I’m telling your wife.”

“You’re going to tattle on me?" He laughs. “That wouldn’t be very HIPAA-compliant of you, would it?”

“Why are you doing this?" It feels like a nightmare that you can't escape where a terrifying shadowy figure is chasing you while you're screaming out for help and no one's listening. Except, this is more horrific due to the fact that you like it. Your thoughts about the man in front of you are downright depraved. You are both the monster, mirrors of each other. 

"I thought you wanted to fix your marriage," you say.

“My wife wants to fix our marriage. You and I both know it’s doomed. But you’re not allowed to say that, are you?”

You shouldn't be saying half the things you are right now, but it's too late to turn back now. You are the sunk cost. And the ship that was the concept of 'fixing Leon's marriage' has already sailed.

“You want the truth? I’ve known since the moment you opened your mouth that your marriage was done.”

“Then why did you keep having sessions? Was it for the money?” He pauses. “I doubt it. You’re a good therapist. You could get other clients. There was another reason. And, we both know what that reason is, but I won’t make you say it. I’m not that mean.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And that’s what you like most about me.”

“It is not.”

“Then what is it?”

“Fuck you!”

“Do you want to? I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Convince me.”

“Haven’t I already?”

“No.”

“Then why are you asking me to convince you instead of telling me to fuck off? You just want me to come up with a reason that doesn’t make you feel bad about doing it.”

“And there isn’t one.”

“No, there isn’t," he says with a bit of pity, knowing he's dragging you down into the second circle of Hell with him.

“You have to swear to tell your wife.”

“Is that a yes?”

He did not swear to tell his wife, but Leon is a cheater and a liar already. If he swore to tell his wife, you'd only be an idiot to believe him. 

“Lock the door.”

He turns around and flicks the lock. “Done.”

You stand up and his mouth is on yours. He’s the best kisser. Silver-tongued, you should've known it. You can fucking taste it too. Metallic. No, that's blood. You bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

You’re the one who starts undressing him first but he doesn’t make fun of you. He helps you out of your top instead.

“Goddamn you have perfect tits. It’s a shame you always keep ‘em hidden.”

“It’s a professional environment.”

“Yeah, it’s so professional that you fuck your clients in it.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

"Don't worry. You’re not the first therapist I’ve fucked. I’ll lead.” Leon lays you down on the couch  - roughly, but cradling your head so you don’t knock it on anything. 

You gasp. "Leon, the couch is damp from your wet clothes," you whine.

"I promise it'll be soaked by the time I leave."

Before you can open your mouth, he’s kissing down your chest, making his way to your panties. His tongue is good at more than just talking. He has you unraveling within minutes, moaning obscenely.

“As much as love your pretty moans, baby, we’ve gotta be quiet. Don’t want you to get fired.”

“I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. You’re a good therapist, and a good girl.”

“You think I’m a good girl?”

“So good. And you taste amazing.” He places a kiss on your clit and you nearly cry, having forgotten the feeling of his tongue in the mere seconds you spent without it. “I want you to come in my mouth.” He sucks on your clit until you do.

Leon's lips are dark and puffy when they meet yours - the ones on your face. He asks, “How did you imagine us doing it?”.

“Mostly me on top of you.”

“It’s a good idea, isn’t it?” he says, placing featherlight kisses from your jaw down your neck.

You shake your head. “None of this is.”

“I know. You've got morals. You’re a good girl.” He pauses before whispering into the shell of your ear, “That’s why you deserve to have me however you want me.”

His right hand is busy holding you steady so he fingers you with his left. You watch as his wedding band slips in and out of your pussy along with his middle finger, giving a double fuck you to his wife with each movement.

He seems fascinated by the squelching sounds, no longer focused on getting his dick inside you. The heavy rain outside covers up some of the noise but not enough to save you the embarrassment.

"Jesus. Just fuck me already." You try desperately to avoid sounding desperate, praying he takes your irritation at face value.

But you're too obvious, you wear your sick, sick heart on your sleeve. 

"You want my dick that bad and you haven't even seen it yet."

"I hope it's as big as your ego."

"No you don't. That'd be painful, medically concerning probably."

You want to laugh because he manages to be funny and charming as hell despite being an absolute dick, but that fact makes you hate him more. And the blood that courses through you has nowhere to go but south.

All the while, his fingers refuse to leave your aching center. "Leon," you whine, pushing his hand away, "you're gonna make me cum again."

"I know," he purrs. "I wanna make up for all the months you've spent here by yourself, with your fingers inside you instead of mine."

"I was pretending they were yours." There's no point in saving the confession anymore.

"I'm sure you were, but I've got somethin' better for you, baby."

And, abruptly, he removes his fingers. You watch him unbuckle his belt, and despite this being your fantasy, you look at him like he's betrayed you.

"What?" he says, coyly, "I thought you wanted this."

"I do, but I was about to cum, and you just took your fingers away. You're such an asshole!" You pout like a bratty child.

"Yeah, I know I am," he says - his words are muffled by the square packet he tears with his teeth. He slides on the rubber barrier before he picks you up and sits you down on his cock, disregarding the obscene noises you make as he shoves himself inside you all at once.

You're wet but there's a stretch. His dick is big, maybe not as big as his ego, but bigger than any you've taken before. This is how he gets away with it, you think.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans. His hands have an iron grip on your hips. "You've gotta learn to loosen up and relax. You're too high strung. This is probably good for you."

It's not, you'll find when the orgasm wears off, but right now it feels really fucking good.

His thumb circles your clit while you bounce up and down, working well in tandem. Ironic, as you've made so little progress in your weekly sessions. As expected, the dual stimulation makes you slick with arousal, opening you up for him.

His voice sounds distant, droned out by your own moans which get even louder as his words get filthier. "Bet all your advice didn't work 'cause your brain was all fuzzy thinking about what my cock would feel like inside you. Or maybe you did it on purpose 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

"No… n-no-" you say, voice trembling just as your thighs do.

"S'okay, baby. Girls with messy pussies like you can't help it. Just need to get some dick in you and then you can go back to being a good girl."

Can you? Maybe you can a 'good girl' in the bedroom, but a morally-upstanding woman? Even in your own eyes, he's corrupted you.

Still, you call out for him, "Leon," you cry, the singular syllable drawn out. You are lucky that the thunder from the storm is louder than your voice could ever be.

"I know," he says, "I'm close too."

The way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. 

You are oddly dissatisfied at the fact that he spills into the condom, not into you. It feels so impersonal. Because it is. It doesn't escape you that he didn't say your name - not even a pet name - just a simple 'fuck' when he came.

You point him in the direction of the trashcan where he can throw away the physical evidence of the mess you've made.

His pants are back on in a second while you remain naked on the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," he says. "Ashley's making dinner. Don't wanna keep her waiting."

"You're gonna go home to her?" you say, more disappointed than surprised.

"Yeah. What did you think I was going to do?"

Truly, you weren't thinking. If you were, you would not have had sex with Leon. 

"I'm surprised you're not happy. I'm gonna go spend some quality time with my wife. That was your advice - wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but-"

"But what? You're our marriage counselor. I'm just trying to fix my marriage."

"You're doing an awful job."

"I know," he says, with his hand on the doorknob. "See you on Wednesday."

[throughparisallthroughrome]

R U Mine?

Summary: Anakin has an on-again-off-again, friends-with-benefits type fling with the reader, who won’t commit to him because he’s in the order. She becomes resentful of that fact and eventually starts to make him jealous. anakin loses it

Wordcount: 6.1k

CW: Smut, oral sex (male receiving), cheating but not really, Anakin and reader both being toxic, cursing, drinking, not that proofread

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to finish! I wanted it to be exactly how I pictured the song. I've also had COVID and just returned to college (taking 6 classes is insane). So, wish me luck! Lemme know if you want to be added to any taglists. As always, criticism is welcome and so is my ask box <3

masterlist.

Frustrated wasn’t the right word for what Anakin was feeling. Exasperated, maybe. Pissed? Oh abso-fucking-lutely.

The relationship Anakin had with you was… complicated to say the least. Far more than he wanted to admit- and far more than he ever liked. You swore up and down that you wanted him one day, and wouldn’t even look his direction the next. You’d get on your knees, begging for him, needing him to fuck you relentlessly; But tomorrow? Tomorrow you didn’t know his name. It suddenly became foreign to your tongue, perhaps just to spite him. That part he wasn’t entirely sure of. How could someone like you treat him like that? Lead him on just to break him the next day?

He just didn’t fucking get you. You were smart, funny, incredibly sexy, and an overall good person (when you weren’t pretending he didn’t exist). You claimed the hearts of many when you walked into a room, and the people you surrounded yourself with stay enamored, never straying too far away from your spell.

Things were far more uncomplicated at the beginning of your complicated relationship (if you could even call it that). Anakin never felt this anxiety- this fear. He wouldn’t ball his fists as he watched you flirt with another man. He wouldn’t hold his breath every time he saw you. He wouldn’t feel himself tense up after he’d cum, knowing where you would go. Of course, the more he got in trouble, the more he needed you. And that’s how he landed into the worst problem of them all.

You represented the Jedi as a lawyer, and Anakin found himself in your office from time to time. Platonically, of course. A few republic and Jedi issues on different missions brought him to you quite a few times. Whether it was for simple legal advice or he actually needed help, you were the first person he went to.

At first, he didn’t notice you much. You rarely made eye contact and stayed professional, asking a few questions occasionally as he shared parts of his missions that the council was concerned about possibly welcoming issues. The line of legality during a war can be very, very thin.

“Skywalker,” He snapped his head up, meeting your face as a grin broke out on your lips.

“I-I’m here.” He shifted up in his seat, glancing around the room for a moment before realizing he totally spaced out.

“You’re not yourself today,” You stand up from behind your desk, gracefully walking over and sitting in the seat next to him, holding his arm gently as you cocked your head and smiled.

“Wanna talk about it?”

The interaction was simple- effective. He was done for- instantly gone. He felt as if you flipped a switch in your personality just with your gaze in that very moment. You went from a peer to the most incredible thing he was blessed to lay eyes on. You were suddenly magnetic, and Anakin couldn’t fucking resist.

He opened up to you, feeling much better about it afterwards, and you told him he could come back and see you anytime he’d like- as a friend. And of course, Anakin could never resist your temptation. He came after every mission, looking forward to sitting in your office and just looking in your eyes as you intently listen. Feeling your eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his pupils. Watching as your hand snakes up and fixes the collar of your shirt, bringing his attention to your cleavage. He watched as you bit your lip intensely, breaking through your painted shiny lips into a little bit of blood.

And you knew you had him wrapped around your fucking finger.

Eventually, he asked for your contact information, “As friends,” he would say, knowing damn well it was never and would never be platonic. You talked a lot, exchanging various texts and phone calls, leading him on for weeks. He spent every waking moment thinking about you. The second you invited him out away from the Temple, another switch was flipped. Anakin’s fucking common sense.

The moment he took you home from the bar, your lips were on his feverishly, pulling him into your touch, grinding your hips against his groin. Again, he couldn’t resist. You were all he could fucking think about and here you were, practically begging for him with your tongue down his throat. He fucked you that night- the beginning of something beautiful, and fucking dangerous.

This, of course, went on for months. Those late nights, some drinks, his cock buried deep inside of you as you screamed out his name so loud you hardly had a voice the next day. You know it was wrong- he was bound by the code and you weren’t- you were taking advantage of that, advantage of him. But it felt so fucking good. And neither of you wanted to stop

Of course, neither of you expected to fall in love.

You felt something in the way he was gentle with you, the way he would brush your hair behind your cheek. The way he’d kiss your forehead while making love fucking, telling you how good you feel, how much he loved fucking you. And there was that word again. You began opening up to him, actually wanting to have a friendship aside from the casual fucking. The fucking needed the ‘casual’ part. For a while, it was straight fucking. But you still rejected him, seeing similar feelings bubble up in his eyes.

But Anakin knew he was in love a lot longer before you did. He knew it was wrong, but it only made him want you more. He knew it was bad, and he couldn’t help but be more enticed by the idea of it. The idea of you. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning, pulling you into his arms as he looked into your big doe eyes and kisses your soft lips. He wanted to come home to you, wanted to see your face light up as he swings open the front door. He wanted you to be his and only his. But he just couldn’t resist fucking you, either.

And yet you left him lonely and confused every time.

There were 3 instances he could remember where he knew you were driving him crazy- in all of the right ways. Whether it was your perfect tight pussy, those gorgeous round tits or the way you looked into his eyes, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes. You always got what you wanted from him- you were taking full advantage of the Jedi and he didn’t care.

He remembers a particularly awful mission, the separatists unexpectedly advanced on him and his battalion before they had the chance to escape. There were multiple casualties and the information ended up being lost, as well as all leads they had. It was a dead end- and Anakin was sick of dead ends.

He texted you a few times, feeling particularly annoyed by the ‘delivered’ that flashed on his phone as you never responded. He tried calling, only for it to go straight to voicemail. You were ignoring him? And for what?

He threw his phone down on his bed, leaning against his headboard and putting his face in his palms as he groaned loudly in annoyance from your rejection. He made you cum 8 times last night and you couldn’t text or call him back?

He bit his lip in frustration, thinking back onto the fond memories with you from the night before. He just needed some reassurance, after all, you two were friends, right..? He didn’t like his hesitation when he thought that. Were you really friends? Or was all of that confiding just to get into his pants knowing damn well it was against every moral he was supposed to have as a Jedi.

He abruptly stands up, realizing that maybe a night to himself would probably be better anyways. He needs a fucking drink- and he knows exactly where to go.

To say that he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s because that was where you two went for the first time and he liked the memory would be a lie. To say he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s in case he would run into you? Well, that was an even bigger fucking lie. And did he run into you…

He recalls sitting at the end of the bar, ordering a scotch from the pretty bartender and watching as she bent over to grab the bottle, showing off her tits as she gave him a wink. He nodded in response, giving a tight lipped smile while paying no mind to her advances. He grabs the scotch slightly aggressively off the bar, taking a large swig as he turns his attention away from the bartender to do a little people watching.

He skims the crowd, noticing quite a few familiar faces. For Coruscant, that was surprising. But this bar definitely had it’s regulars. He turns his attention back to the bar, watching the way the light bounced off of the multicolored glasses on the shelves as he traced his finger against the rim of his glass. And there it was. That fucking laugh.

He whipped his head so fucking fast to the location of the sound that the bartender could have sworn it almost fell off. And there you were… in all of your glory… cheating on him?

He recognized the dress, the long slit up your thigh leaving quite little to the imagination. You were practically sitting on this mans lap, laughing at his jokes and tracing his collarbone with your painted fingertip. He noticed the stain on the mans cheek, none other than your signature color. And it was extremely hard to look away from the dark spots littering your neck- the same place he left his hickeys before. He knew you had lovers before- but not like this.

His hand was clenched around his glass, his knuckles turning white as the glass threatened to break under his grip. He didn’t realize at what point he stood up and started walking over, but it had to be right after you began to aggressively make out with the stranger. He had seen enough.

“What the fuck is this?” He seethes, you pull away, slightly shocked but a smirk still trained on your painted lips.

“Ani- what are you doing here! Such a sight for poor eyes!” You cheer, throwing your arm with your cosmopolitan around the man’s neck you were with.

The mans eyes darkened and so did yours. You were clearly wasted, and Anakin felt his heart pound in his chest. You were in no position to consent to anything, much less be taken home by this man. He didn’t trust the scene that was being laid out in front of him.

He quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you off the man and spilling your drink on his chest. You yelped in surprise at his actions, but your cry quickly turned into giggles as you were amused by how irritated Anakin was. He was infuriated with you. You were being such a brat.

He opens the door to the bar and pulls you around the corner and down the alley.

“So aggressive.” You mumble and he huffs.

“What the fuck was that? What about us? How long have you been fucking around on me?”His hands pin you down against the rough bricks, his words loud and angry.

His brow twitches slightly as he waits for your response. Your mouth tugs into a smirk as you trace his collarbone through his shirt and let out a gentle laugh.

“I never said we were exclusive, Anakin.”

And there it was.

“I- oh,” His face drops at the sight of your smirk, along with his heart. “I understand,”

“Don’t worry, Ani,” You bite your lip and bring your hand to his cheek while he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, “You mean more to me than any lousy fuck I have.”

His eyes shot open to meet yours as your smile grew. He was so fucking enamored with you that he didn’t mind the manipulation your words were laced with.

You leaned further into him and kissed his cheek, letting your hands roam on his body. He groaned slightly as your hands cupped him right where he needed you. You let your lips trail down his neck, hearing a couple soft groans leaving his lips. You pulled away lowered your voice to a whisper, he shivered as he felt your hot breath on his ear.

“It was nice to see you, Ani,” You pulled away and stumbled around the corner and back into the bar.

Anakin was speechless. He was sure his jaw dropped through the ground beneath him. He didn’t know what to do- or how to even move. And as much as it pained him to leave- his drink unfinished and his tab not paid- he fucking bolted back to the temple. There was no way he was walking back in there to see you again.

Weeks later, he did his best to put you out of his mind. He knew if he started letting his mind wander, it’d go right to you and your hold on him. His feelings- his cock. But then it’d wander back to seeing you kiss another man- another man’s marks littering your neck. He couldn’t bear the thought of either. Not right now.

It was hard to do anything around the temple- he’d search every corner for you. He thanked the maker the days he would get assigned missions and get out of there. Of course, since that night, they fell very few and far between.

And of course, Anakin always did catch glimpses of you in the Temple. He’d see you in your perfect little pantsuits with your clipboard talking to some other Jedi. If he was lucky, you’d have those slutty little glasses on. His pants would instantly tighten. It had been weeks since you slept together, and he couldn’t bare the idea of his hand, knowing exactly where his thoughts would wander. Every time you caught him staring- he was gone in an instant.

The second instance happened after another rough mission- but still a success nonetheless. After arriving back to the Temple, spending some time at the med bay, briefing the council, and filling out far too much paperwork, his communicator went off at his desk.

“Skywalker, speaking,” He grunted, flipping a few pages around as he scanned over his words in his mission report.

“Oh you sound particularly delightful today, Anakin,” He rolled his eyes at the sound of his old master, the sarcasm dripping off of his voice.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Obi-Wan?” He smirked to himself, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m afraid the Council has requested us to speak with Miss L/N about this mission,” Anakin instantly froze, his smile dropping, “I’m not exactly sure about the reasoning- but apparently she personally requested us. She had an interest in some parts of this mission,”

“Of fucking course,” Anakin grumbled, picking his pen up with the force and twirling it in the air as his scowl deepened.

“What was that?” Anakin froze, realizing who he was talking to.

“Nothing, Master. Will be there soon,” He quickly ended the call, leaning back in his chair and groaning as he thought about the mission. His pants had instantly tightened upon hearing your last name, and there was no time to wait for that to disappear.

He sulked and walked as slowly as he could on his way to your office, turning the familiar corners with a bad taste in his mouth. He heard your laugh from down the hall and felt his shoulders and cock stiffen.

He pushed open the door with the force, being met with you and Obi-Wan as you sat and discussed something, both of your faces beat red from laughing.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan manages to breathe out, “Nice of you to show up,”

Anakin ignores his remark, sitting down on the sofa next to him and darkening his gaze towards you as his eyes trail down your body. The pantsuit you had on today was a deep red and tighter fitting than you normally wore. The shirt you had on underneath was skin tight, showing off your cleavage and the texture of the bra underneath. Anakin swore if he had looked longer he could see the lace of your bra peaking out, your nipples hardening underneath it.

He took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the tightness in his pants really start to get him as his eyes trailed back up to the smirk that painted your lips.

“So, why are we here?” He sneered as you raised a brow, your smile growing from his annoyance. Obi-Wan nudged his leg slightly, throwing him a glare. His expression didn’t waver.

“Sassy today, I see,” You giggled to yourself, watching his eyes grow darker, the bulge in his pants growing as well, “Just came to hear a few things about the mission-“

“Like what?” He interrupted, leaning back into his seat and huffing to himself in annoyance.

“Well, Skywalker, maybe if you let me finish I could tell you.” His gaze never faltered, so you let your smile drop. You sat up straighter and became suddenly much more professional.

“Just need to know the details, Anakin. Obi Wan already told me most of it-“

“Then why am I needed?” He crossed his arms and Obi-Wan turned to look at him.

“Well, Anakin, maybe if you let our friend explain, we could talk-“ Anakin scoffs loudly at Obi-Wan, and you feel the heat rise within you.

“Okay, fine. Fucking talk. Ask. Whatever.” He furrows his brows as he watches you cross your legs and cough slightly, your tits bouncing purely for his pleasure.

“As I was saying, just needed to make sure we don’t need to worry about any legal repercussions with Hynestia Prime. You have a tendency of getting in trouble in that area, Skywalker. You can’t blame me for wanting to check- especially with a monarchy as prominent as their’s.” You clicked your pen, bringing it to your lips and gently biting it as you waited for a response from Anakin.

“I’m sure Obi-Wan mentioned it was a fairly standard in and out mission-“

“No interruptions? No casualties?” You interrupted, leaning forward slightly and meeting his fairly irritated gaze.

“If you’d let me finish-“

“Skywalker, you interrupted first.” You leaned back in your chair, unclicking your pen and writing something down, avoiding his eyes, “Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve paid me a visit, anyways.”

Obi-Wan raises a brow and Anakin coughs awkwardly as you smirk at his reaction. He glared at you before clearing his throat once again.

“Hasn’t- uh- Hasn’t been necessary. Been on my best behavior.” He stuttered out, avoiding Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Uh huh,” You smile to yourself, clicking your pen and standing up, bending over to grab something off the floor, “Well, I’ll have paperwork sent to your quarters. I hope your writing matches your words, Skywalker.”

You walk over to Obi-Wan, shaking his hand and telling him how nice it was to see him. You avoided Anakin’s gaze, but you could feel it burning on your skin as he never wavered from his position next to Kenobi.

“It’s been lovely, Y/N. Anakin, I’ll catch up with you later,” Anakin nods in response, not meeting his eyes as he keeps them fixed upon you. The second the door is latched shut, he’s immediately in your face.

“What the fuck is your problem today? Saying that in front Obi-Wan? Risking my position as a Jedi?” You smiled under him, squeezing your thighs shut as he yelled in your face, “I mean- you are fucking unbelievable! Fucking ridiculous.” He turns away from you and begins pacing your office, rubbing his temple in annoyance.

You keep your mouth shut, your smile growing wider and the wetness growing in your panties as you watch the vein in his neck pop from anger. You walk up to him and push him on the sofa, getting on your knees in the process.

“What the fuck are you doing.” He seethes, watching you unbutton his pants.

“You’re so pent up darling,” You lick your lips as you palm him through his robes lightly, “When was the last time you gave yourself any satisfaction?”

“Y/N, please don’t-“ He’s cut off by his own groans at the feeling of you pulling out his dripping cock.

“Don’t what, baby?” You look up at him with your big doe eyes, batting your eyelashes as he groans one more time, pre cum practically pouring out of him and on your hand. “You don’t want me to take care of you?” You lift your hand up and lick the pre cum off slowly, never breaking eye contact as his breath hitches.

“I- Fuck- Ah- I don’t remember what I was saying,” You smirk at his words, gently jerking him off as you watch his eyes practically roll.

“That’s what I thought.”

You shove his cock down your throat brutally, instantly letting it hit the back. Anakin jumps slightly, letting out a loud moan at the feeling of you deepthroating him so quickly. You bob up and down, the tears flowing freely as you squeeze him in between your fingers. You could practically cum yourself with the noises he’s making.

“Y/N- Y/N- oh my fucking-“ He cuts himself off with another loud moan, feeling you milk his cock dry with your mouth. He didn’t even have to fuck your throat. You were doing it for him.

You kept going, feeling his cock spaz in your throat. He was close- very close. His moans grew louder, more raspy and whiny as you throat fucked him.

“Y/N- I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum- Ah-“ And with that, you shoved his cock all the way down your throat, licking the bottom of his shaft and giving his balls a gentle squeeze.

He loudly moans as his cock spazzes in your mouth, painting your throat white with his cum. You keep sucking and licking through his orgasm, feeling him squirm under your touch. There was more cum in your mouth than you have ever felt in your life.

You sit back, letting his cock flop back onto his lap. You open your mouth, letting the cum drip out and onto your tits as he watched with his mouth slightly agape, moaning at the sight.

“Y/N…” He whispers, watching you swallow his seed as he cups your face in his hand.

You stand up and grab a tissue for him, letting him clean up while you press a few kisses to his temple. He looks up at you and kisses you passionately, pulling away and smiling at you.

Interrupting your moment, the phone rings. You smirk at him one more time before getting back onto your feet, letting out a gentle groan as you make your way to your desk. Anakin’s eyes never leave your figure, watching your every move as his cock prepares for round two.

“Hey baby,” You answer the phone and Anakin instantly tenses, “No, I’m at work. Just been busy.” You turn to face Anakin and he’s already gone.

As much as you hate to say it, your heart ached a little at his absence.

The third and final instance Anakin would have never expected in a thousand years. But there you were.

He woke abruptly, not by a nightmare (at least yet), but to the sound of harsh knocks on his door.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes for a moment, the knocks unrelentless. Throwing the covers to the side, he stood up and put a robe and pants on, growing increasingly annoyed with whatever visitor thought it to be best to wake him up like this.

He aggressively throws open the door and his heart drops at the sight of you. Holy fuck- you were gorgeous. He felt his jaw drop slightly at you and the smirk spread on your face. He noticed a particular blush to your cheeks and he realized he could smell the liquor pouring off of you. Fuck.

“Baby,” You pushed him inside his quarters, your heels clanking against the ground as you kicked the door shut behind you, “Need you so bad,” You dropped your coat, revealing your lingerie underneath and he bit his lip.

“Y/N, what are you-“ Anakin’s cut off abruptly by your painted lips meeting his, and he stumbled back as your hand meets his cock. He groans into your mouth as you smile, deepening the kiss.

“Fuck-“ He finds himself moaning under your touch, unable to resist you as you let the lust take over.

Suddenly, his eyes widen and he pushes you off of him, catching his breath. You smirk at him, walking closer to kiss him once again only to be met with his hand on your chest, gently pushing you away from him once again.

“You’re drunk,” He breathes out, and you laugh.

“And? So what? I want you,” You whine, walking closer only to be met with his hand once again. “What’s your fucking problem?”

He scoffs at you, taking another step back away from you. “Y/N, you can’t just show up here fucking drunk and naked. What if someone saw you? What if-“

“For fucks sake will you just shut up and fuck me?” Again, you were met with resistance, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“No, I’m not having sex with you. You’re being a brat. And you’re fucking drunk. I don’t want this.” He attempts to say calmly and you scoff at him.

“And you’re being a fucking dick.”

“I’m being a fucking dick?” He comes closer now, putting his finger on your chest accusingly, “You can’t keep your fucking legs shut! And to think that I thought we had something- meanwhile you’re calling every fucking man on Coruscant ‘baby’ while I go off to war thinking of you! Thinking that maybe- just maybe- you were thinking of me too! And fuck, was I so fucking wrong-”

“Shut the fuck up! You just want my pussy!” You stumble back away from him, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“That’s the fucking thing! I wish I did! But I don’t! I actually fucking like you. Like- a lot. And you’re so goddamn frustrating!” Anakin yells loudly, watching as you continue to pull away from him during his confession.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just saying-“ As you tried to continue, you were cut off by the sounds of your own screams, tripping over your coat and cutting yourself on a piece of metal on the floor.

“Shit- Y/N, come here baby.” Anakin immediately rushes to your aid, wincing slightly at your bloody knees on the ground below him.

“Ah fuck- Ani- It hurts,” You whine as he bites his lip at your tears, trying to figure out the best course of action.

“Here,” He puts his arms under your legs, pulling you into his chest as he picks you up and sets you on his bed. You wet his chest with your tears, emotions spilling over from the cuts and the fight. “Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

He gets on his knees in front of you, wiping a tear from your eyes as he watches you concerned. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up and hastily rushing to his bathroom. He throws open the cabinet, searching for first aid supplies as he hears your whines grow louder from the pain. The cuts were pretty deep and he cursed himself for leaving out a project so haphazardly on the floor.

“Give my hair a tug if it gets to be too much, yeah?” He gets on his knees in front of you as you give him a rushed nod. You giggle slightly at his request but the second the alcohol meets your bloody knees, your hands are in his hair and you let out a little yelp.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. I know it hurts- I’m so sorry. This will be better soon- I promise.” He mumbles to you as you continue to cry under his touch, waiting for the pain to end.

By the time he bandages you fully and gets some water in you, you’ve sobered up enough to realize your mistake. You had fallen way too hard for the Jedi in front of you- literally. And with your bloodied knees, it felt like the galaxy was telling you that.

He stands up and moves to the bathroom, putting his supplies away and washing his hands while you stand and grab your coat.

“I- Um- I’m sorry,” He pauses washing his hands, letting the water run over them as he slowly looks up at you. He can feel something’s wrong. He quickly dries them and makes his way over to you hesitantly.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something else happen?” He tentatively puts his hand on your arm, his breath hitching as you move away from his touch.

“Yes- sorry- just made a mistake. Thank you for taking care of me. It was nice to see you.” You avoid his concerned gaze, holding your coat to your chest tightly as you make your way to the door.

“Y/N- Wait!” He grabs your arm once again, and you feel yourself wince at his touch, tears bubbling to your eyes that you didn’t know existed. “I don’t understand- what happened?”

“Ani- I just,” you take a deep breath, squeezing your hands into fists. Finally turning to face him, you whisper, “I-I I just can’t do this anymore.”

His face instantly drops at the sight of you. You were so raw and emotional suddenly, the alcohol leaving a nasty taste in your mouth and bringing out a new side to you. One he was unfamiliar with. Before he could respond, you had shed a tear and left his quarters, leaving him hurt and confused once again.

This was different, it felt different- he could recognize that. The way you left made him nauseous. The things you said. He couldn’t help but stand there stunned, unable to move for quite some time until he realized just what happened. You ended things with him. He was more confused than ever.

In the passing weeks, as much as Anakin wanted to respect your boundaries and your wishes- he felt it to be nearly impossible. He took on more responsibilities as a Jedi, increasing his efforts in the war and politically. He did everything he could to stay away from you and get you off of his mind.

He became more closed off, distracting himself from any pain he felt possible. The people around him noticed, offering help and guidance when they could. His own padawan and old master poked and prodded about him relentlessly, but he never gave in to their concern.

Occasionally, he’d catch glimpses of you throughout the temple, and instead of his cock hardening at the sight of you like it once did, his heart only hurt. Your smile made him nauseous, your laugh a knife twisting inside of him. As much as he cared for you, he hated the idea of you doing well. Moving on without him.

And there he was, doing exactly what you did to him…

He knocked harshly, enough that if he ran away at this point it’d be fucking embarrassing. He forced himself to do this- at least he was sober when you weren’t. And he wasn’t exactly here for sex, but if it happened, well… he always heard breakup sex was nice. If he could even call this a ‘breakup’.

Anakin felt himself start to sweat a little. He didn’t know what to expect from this. What to expect from you. You were always different, always surprising him. Even when he thought he knew you- or loved you- there was always something knew that attempted to change that.

But Anakin knew deep down how hard he had fallen for you. And just how impossible it would be to change that. And while he was already sweating from nerves, it quickly turned into anger. He loved you. Loved. And yet you continued to walk all over him and his emotions? What the fuck? Has he not shown you just how devoted he was to you? Why were you so-

“Anakin,” His eyes instantly met your tired ones, darkened with a certain rage you couldn’t quite make out. “What are you doing here?”

He was silent. The scary kind of Anakin silent that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it. And man, you felt it. His eyes trailed up your body, the silky lace nightgown you wore suddenly felt more revealing than it did a few minutes prior. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from his silence, your fingers fidgeting with your nightgown as you unconsciously straightened your posture a bit.

“Anakin, what are you- Hey!” He suddenly welcomed himself in your apartment, pushing through you and into your living room. You slam the door behind you, turning and facing the angry man behind you.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You sigh, attempting to stay calm as you watched the taller man in front of you unravel.

“Why? Is there someone else here?” He seethes, stepping closer to you.

“No! And even if there was- that’s none of your fucking business, Anakin. We aren’t fucking together. You are just a good fuck and that is all.” You step closer, your words twisting like knives but he never backs down. His finger meets your chest accusingly, his lips upturning into a smirk.

“Y/N, we both know that’s not it.” You shudder under his gaze, turning away from him to conceal your emotions.

“Anakin- we can’t.” You state plainly, and for once he can’t read you.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because we can’t!” You turn around and scream, “Because you’re a fucking JEDI and it’s against everything we stand for! And you’re the fucking chosen one! I’m not doing this. As much as I’d like to and as much as I fucking resent all of that- it doesn’t make the reality we are in any less of a problem.”

“I’d leave it all for you.”

“No you fucking won’t!” You give him a shove, “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I’m so fucking frustrating? That’s fucking rich.” He grabs your arm, forcing you to face him, “Do you know how fucking bad it hurts to watch you with other men? How hard it is to hear you call them baby? And you think that isn’t fucking frustrating? All I wanna fucking hear you say is that you’re mine. I just want you to be mine!”

“ANAKIN PLEASE!” You crumble beneath him, “It’s not like I fucking enjoy it! I spend my nights wishing it was you! It-It’s just all a fucking distraction! Because I want you so fucking bad and I can’t have you.” Your voice cracks slightly and his gaze softens upon seeing your teary eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Anakin, please stop,” You fall to your knees, feeling your heart ache at his confession, “Please- we can’t do this.”

“Baby,” He sits down next you softly, holding you in his arms, “I will do everything I can to make this possible. We can keep it a secret for now and after the war? Who knows what’s possible.” You glance up at him, eyes glossy and lip quivering.

“I-I don’t know.” You whisper, avoiding his eyes, “I’ve spent so long pushing this down. Feeling resentment towards you and your status and the fact that we could never make this work. I spent so much time having really awful sex just to try and take my mind off of you.”

“Did it work?” He whispers back, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“No,” You hiccup, a blush spreading to your cheeks, “I kept accidentally moaning your name.” You both giggle and he pulls you into his arms.

“That’s my girl.”

He pulls you in once more, letting your tears dry as you both take in the comfortable silence surrounding you. You can feel his heartbeat slow, the tension leaving his muscles as he holds you close. He was finally relaxed, and so were you.

“Y/N, can I call you mine?” He whispers against your neck, and you can feel his nerves return.

“You got me, baby, I’m yours.”

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42

a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751

contains: mentions of grief

Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.

He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.

His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.

Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.

It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.

He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’

Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.

He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.

Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.

On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.

In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).

But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.

That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.

They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.

And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”

But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.

And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.

[captinamericashusband]

Flirt | Tony Stark x Male!Reader

A/N: Omg a fanfic that isn't about Steve Rogers?!?! Hope you enjoy :) Also, school is starting soon but I will try to write as much as I can. I actually do find writing these enjoyable. Fanfic writing is different but fun. It's nice to use my English somewhere aside from just writing essays 🥹.

P.S. Listen to this song right now or I will hurt you:

Flirt

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: During a night out with his close friend, Y/N encounters Tony Stark and they immediately hit it off. Get that bag, Y/N!

Warnings: Alcohol use

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure about this, Sal?" Y/N said, uncertainty laced in his voice.

"100% sure. You need to get your mind off of that cheating douchebag." Sal responded with no hesitation. A small sigh came from Y/N's mouth. He knew deep down that she was right.

After finding out his ex had been cheating on him, Y/N had rotted in his house for almost two weeks, completely isolating himself from the outside world. Only today, when his closest friend Sal practically broke his front door down, had he been freed from his lovelorn pitying.

Now, Sal was forcing Y/N out for a much-needed night out in town, determined to help him forget about his troubles, at least for just a couple of hours. The two were currently headed to one of the liveliest bars downtown, with the promise of copious amounts of alcohol and good company.

"Look, I know this might not be what you want right now," Sal said, giving Y/N a reaffirming pat on the shoulder. "But, just trust me. We're going to enjoy the night, the drinks and the people, and," Sal's head turned slightly, giving a Y/N a small smirk, "we might even find you a nice man there."

Y/N turned downward and began shaking his head to hide the smile forming on his face – he ultimately failed. "Yeah, yeah alright." While his very recent relationship's ending was abrupt and messy, the idea of finding someone new was very enticing. His previous boyfriend was, according to Sal, "hot trash", so he believed tonight could be the chance to find a truly suitable partner for him.

"That's the spirit," Sal grinned, tightly hugging Y/N's side. "Now let's go and make very questionable decisions."

Y/N chuckled despite himself, softly pushing Sal off of him. Maybe tonight would be when he'd truly move on.

------------------------------------

According to Y/N's inner monologue, the bar itself was quite lovely. It was a quaint, hole-in-the-wall establishment yet very populated. People occupied the bar's booths in large groups, their conversations filling the atmosphere with a nice volume. The warm and soft lighting gave the space a slight touch of intimacy. As he continued looking around, Y/N grimaced as he glanced toward a corner of the bar and saw a couple making out, their hands touching in places that were definitely inappropriate for a public space. However, despite seeing the touchy-feely pair, Y/N could tell tonight would be somewhat fun.

The two settled down on two barstools at the bar's front. Sal, being the more outgoing of the one, wasted no time waving down the bartender. "Two tequila shots, please," she said with a grin. It was a tradition for the two to begin a night out with tequila shots – a nice ritual that set the tone for the night.

The bartender slid two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. The two each grabbed a glass, Sal raising hers and toasting, "to a night of fun and forgetting."

Y/N raised his also, saying, "Cheers to whatever comes our way." The two smiled at each other, clinking their glasses before downing their drinks in one swift gulp.

Y/N's face scrunched in pain upon swallowing. The feeling of tequila was familiar to Y/N as he and Sal have spent multiple nights out together. However, he never grew as much of a tolerance as her for the throat-burning it caused when ingesting it. He coughed slightly, but laughed, a tingly feeling spreading throughout his chest.

Sal leaned over, slightly nudging Y/N's elbow. "So, what'll it be next for us? Should we try something strong or should steady ourselves for tonight?"

Y/N thought deeply for a moment before responding. "Let's try something different," he said, feeling bolder. "How about margaritas?"

Sal laughed. "Alright, margaritas it is. Don't blame me though for how shit-faced you might get."

Y/N rolled his eyes, but couldn't prevent the smile from forming on his face. "I guess we'll see," he replied, feeling the anticipation from what the night has to offer.

------------------------------------

Sal and Y/N had 3 margaritas and 4 tequila shots in each and were already a tad inebriated. Despite the bar being quite packed, their egregiously loud laughter carried around the room, causing people to look at them with slight annoyance.

Suddenly, Sal's eyes widened and she began choking on her drink. "Holy shit, bitch," she semi-yelled, catching Y/N's attention. "Don't look behind you, but Tony 'Richboy' Stark just came in with a really hot dude."

Y/N wasn't the type to listen to directions he was told – especially when inebriated – so despite Sal's warnings, he immediately looked. And Sal was correct. There, unmistakably, was Tony Stark clad in a simple tux with a black tie near the bar's entrance. Next to him was an equally attractive man, taller, with blonde hair and broad shoulders. Upon second glance, Y/N realized the other man was the Captain America.

Y/N's eyes had wandered on Tony while he was surveying the bar's interior. For a brief moment, their gazes met under the glow of the bar's warm lighting. Y/N quickly looked away. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he glanced once more. Tony's eyes were still on him, firm but with an undertone of curiosity. Y/N wanted to so desperately look away, but their stare lingered. The world seemed to fade during their intimate stare-off. A palpable tension was shared between them, and it wasn't until Tony flashed Y/N a small smile before heading to a vacant booth that it vanished.

A slight slap on Y/N's arm broke him from his trance. "Dude! I literally told you not to look and guess what you did? Look!" Y/N had to quiet down Sal's loud reprimanding voice, afraid a certain someone would hear her. She regained her composure after a few minutes of quiet yelling and continued drinking her third margarita. "Okay, but he was definitely checking you out," Sal slurred with a volume even a person outside the bar could hear.

A loud cough erupted from Y/N's mouth, an attempt to drown out Sal's voice. "He was absolutely not," he protested, taking a sip of his drink. "He was just checking out the place, and our eyes coincidentally met when he was looking at the front of the bar."

"Oh, Y/N," Sal said, slowly shaking her head. "I know you may be slow in the head–" Y/N was about to object before Sal put a finger to his lips, effectively shutting his mouth. "But you'd practically have to be blind to not notice him eyeing you like a piece of fine meat."

"Okay, but..." Y/N was at a loss for words, partly for the fact he was intoxicated but also because Tony Stark was definitely checking him out. Their stare-off lasted a little too long to be considered anything but friendly. "Wait, why were you looking at him I thought we weren't supposed to look?"

"Well, Y/N," Sal said, sloppily standing from the bar stool and grabbing her purse. "I will be going to the bathroom right now. I hope nothing significant will occur during my absence, like, say, a certain Avenger approaching you while you're sat here all alone." She winked, her gait wobbly from the alcohol.

Before Y/N could yell at her to return, she already turned the bar's corner into the restrooms. Y/N silently cursed, downing his margarita before ordering another one. His heart was beating fast, and he glanced towards where Tony was sitting. As if on cue, Tony looked up from his conversation with Captain America, catching his gaze. This time, Tony's smile widened, and he leaned in and whispered something to Steve. Y/N's pulse quickened. Then, Tony stood up from his booth and started towards Y/N. He quickly turned around, "fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered under his breath.

Y/N could feel Tony's presence approaching. He radiated wealth, power, and overall playboy hubris with each step. As he drew closer, Y/N's anxiety reached a peak. He started drawing his focus away from the intimidating man, attempting to look very intently at the bar's collection of liquor. But Tony's sensation, magnetic as ever, couldn't be ignored by Y/N.

Tony sat on the barstool Sal was on before she left. Y/N felt his palms and the back of his knees becoming clammy, unsure if it was from the alcohol or the undeniably attractive billionaire beside him. It was probably the latter. Tony cleared his throat to catch the attention of the bartender. "I'll take a beer, please."

After Tony got his beer, an uncomfortable silence washed over the two men. Tony wasn't speaking and Y/N was too out of it to verbalize anything. Wasn't Tony – billionaire, playboy, philanthropist – Stark supposed to start their conversation, he silently thought. Suddenly getting very impatient, Y/N put the burden on himself to verbally approach Tony first. "I always thought you were a hard liquor person," Y/N's voice came out, evident in his speech that he was decently drunk.

Tony glanced at Y/N, a hint of amusement in his expression. "I've been trying to lay off the drinking for a while," he replied, taking a sip of his beer. "Only wimpy drinks for me tonight."

Y/N nodded, trying to focus on Tony's words despite his tipsiness. He could feel Tony's eyes on him, curious and unwavering. His gaze was intimidating but felt strangely warm at the same time.

Tony leaned in slightly, his tone teasing. "And what about you. I didn't peg you to be a margarita guy."

Y/N smiled, his confidence from the liquid courage abating his nerves. "I like to keep 'em guessing, Mr. Stark." He took another sip of his margarita. "Only the good ones."

Tony's grin widened slightly. "Does that make me one of the 'good ones'?"

"That depends on how you treat me tonight," Y/N replied, his voice flirtier than he expected it to be.

Another silence came after Y/N's words – a comfortable one, unlike the last time. Y/N sneaked a few glances towards Tony, finding him looking straight ahead bearing a small content smile.

"So what brings you here with" – Y/N gestured towards Steve – "that hunk of a man," Y/N asked, cutting through the quiet.

Tony set down his beer. "Well, I just got off a very important business meeting and decided to head here to unwind. Heard this place had some...interesting company." He then looked towards Y/N. "Capsicle's here as my plus one."

Y/N felt his cheeks go red. "'Interesting company,' huh?" he echoed, his nervousness returning again.

Tony nodded, his expression playful. "Very interesting," he reaffirmed. "And it seems," Tony picked up his beer, gesturing it towards Y/N. "I've made the right choice."

A sudden cough erupted from Y/N's mouth, elicited by Stark's notorious innate flirtiness. "You can't just say that, Tony. We just met and you don't even know my name."

Tony chuckled, clearly amused by Y/N's reaction. "You're right," he admitted, leaning back slightly. "But I don't need to know your name to recognize you're someone worth talking to." He took another quick sip of his beer. "Names are just a formality anyway. I'd rather know the person behind the name."

Y/N felt a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. Despite knowing of Tony's infamous charismatic boldness, it felt nerve-wracking being on the receiving end of it. It was a strange experience. "You surely know how to keep someone on their toes, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "So, whaddya say? Do I get your name or do I have to keep guessing for a little longer?"

Y/N hesitated briefly before deciding to play along with Tony's game. "Keep guessing, lover-boy."

Tony's eyebrows raised, clearly enjoying the challenge and the nickname. "Let's see..." he said, his face stern with faux concentration. "You strike me as a Jay. Or a Phil." He watched Y/N's expression closely, trying to see if there was any hint he was on the right track.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Nice try, but you're way off. Guess again."

A small sigh came from Tony. "Dammit. I thought I almost had it," he said, feigning playful disappointment. "Okay, how about...Cameron? Or Mitchell?"

Y/N shook his head once more. "Nope. Not even close."

Tony leaned in closer, his smile turning into a small smirk. "Alright, I give up. What's your name, mystery man?"

Y/N also leaned in, relenting at Tony's surrender. "It's Y/N," he half-whispered. "But I did enjoy you guessing."

A genuine smile found itself on Tony's face. "Y/N, huh? I like it – it suits you." He raised his beer in a small toast. "To new friends, and to keeping things interesting."

Y/N clinked his margarita with Tony's brown beer bottle. "To new friends," he repeated.

"So," Tony said, taking another sip of his bottle. "Tell me more about yourself."

------------------------------------

Tony and Y/N talked for what seemed like hours, the passage of time becoming irrelevant to them. Y/N went on an extended rant about his ex-boyfriend, Tony listening intently, which Y/N very much appreciated. Tony in turn told Y/N about Avengers and Stark Industries business. Y/N tried hard to understand Tony's talks on logistics, all for the sake of how Tony's eyes lit up with interest when talking about the nitty-gritty of his company.

After I while, their conversation started dwindling down. The initial flirtiness settled down to a comfortable silence. The buzz from the alcohol had faded into a pleasant comfort that made Y/N feel warm inside. Y/N looked around the bar, noticing how the crowded place had thinned out. "Looks like we cleared the place out, huh?"

Tony set his beer bottle down, stretching his arms. "Guess we did. Time flies when you have fun. Or when you're with a cute person."

A warmth covered Y/N's face red. "It's been nice talking to you, Tony." He checked the time on his phone, eyes widening when he saw the time. "It's getting quite late. Me and Sal...where is that girl anyways?" Sal's entire existence completely slipped from Y/N's mind.

"Looks like Cap and your friend are hitting it off quite well." Y/N glanced towards the booth Steve was sitting in. There was very much indeed Sal chatting up a storm with Captain America. What surprised Y/N the most was that Steve actually enjoyed talking to her? He nodded, smile bright and charming as Sal's mouth moved continuously.

"Huh," Y/N mused. He looked towards Tony once more. Y/N wasn't quite sure how but Tony looked even more attractive since the last time he looked.

"I think it's time for us to call it a night, Y/N," Tony said, his voice slightly disappointed. Y/N also found himself unhappy as well. "Though, I'd like for us to see each other again. For margaritas or beer – or something stronger if you prefer." He pulled a sleek black business card from his pocket and handed it to Y/N.

"I'll take you up on that, Tony," Y/N replied, pocketing the card. Y/N stared softly at Tony, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest. He noticed the closeness between them on the bar chairs.

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, his mind racing with both excitement and nerves. The temptation to close the gap between them was overwhelming, and he could feel himself gravitating towards Tony.

Tony's gaze flickered towards Y/N's lips, seemingly understanding his intentions. Y/N felt a surge of confidence rush through him. He wanted this, and he knew damn well Tony did too. Without thinking further, Y/N closed the space between him and Tony, lips connecting in an intimate kiss.

Their lips started slowly at first – tentative as if testing the waters. But then Tony responded, pressing back with a gentle ferocity that made Y/N's stomach flutter. The kiss was slow and exploratory, full of curiosity and intrigue.

Y/N's eyes closed as he felt himself melt into Tony's touch. His hands found their way towards Tony's shoulders, linking them around and slightly grazing the fabric of his suit. Y/N could feel Tony's hands lightly caressing his waist, sending tingles around his entire body.

When they both pulled away, Y/N's eyes fluttered open and met Tony's, a mixture of surprise and fluster playing around both of their smiles.

"Wow," Y/N said, breathless. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah," Tony responded, sounding winded himself. "I definitely want to see you again now."

------------------------------------

Tony and Steve insisted on driving Y/N and Sal home, however, Y/N protested heavily against it. Sal was definitely on board with the idea but was drowned out by Y/N's persistent opposition.

After saying their goodbyes to the two Avengers, Y/N and Sal started on home. "So...," she began, sporting a toothy smile.

Y/N reciprocated her wide grin. "We'll debrief tomorrow."

FIN

A/N: Catch the Modern Family names 😼 Hope you enjoyed it!

[webslingingslasher]

could you do angst -> fluff?

you and peter are long distance. someone sends you a picture of "peter" cheating. but the picture isn't peter.

Long distance relationships sucked. 

You may be biased, but you knew that long term relationships were the worst of them all. You’d put that in the same category as finding out you’ve been catfished for years. 

It could be worse, like Sadie and Dylan. Dylan moved across the country for school and watching your roommate go through the process of trying to set up date facetime calls, and scheduling calls between the hours of the night, made you feel like you didn’t have any say about yours. 

At least you and Peter were in the same time zone, he was only an hour and a half train ride away but it felt like lifetimes when for years you shared a school and zip code. You always had Peter around, and it’s very noticeable when he’s not. 

Imagine not being able to kiss your lover everyday, hold their body, or look in their eyes. 

Sadie smiled empathetically when Peter called, she got up to leave the room empty. Many times you’ve gotten out of bed at three am for a long bathroom break, you know that there are some things you tell Peter you’d never want anyone else to hear. You could extend that to Sadie as well. 

Peter’s voice was warm through the phone. 

“Hiya, baby.” 

You bit your bottom lip, too excited to keep it in. 

“Hi, handsome.” 

“Tell me three things from your day.” 

You paused to think, you knew this question would come up, you made a mental note of what to tell Peter. 

“So, the fat squirrel by park hall attacked this guy for his sandwich, and I know what you’re thinking, but that squirrel is fucking vicious. And, hm…” 

Peter shuffles around on his end. 

“Oh! My English professor is letting us have open notes midterm, and finally… I really, really missed you.” 

Peter gives you a soft chuckle, you wish you could see his face too. 

“I missed you too, also that fat squirrel? Next time I come down I wanna see him in person, pictures don’t do it justice.” 

When he comes down, he hasn’t visited in a month. Not that you can’t go see him, you make sure to take trips but he also has his aunt here, and he tries to do Spidey in the city as much as he can to keep questions to a minimum. 

“Two more, petey.” 

He hums on the line, you miss feeling his chest vibrate when he does it against your back. 

“I ate a salad for lunch,” 

“Bullshit.” You cough on the line. 

“Okay, listen here, stinky.” 

“Shots fired! I’ll hang up right now.” 

Peter whines, “you can’t! I have to tell you my third thing.” 

“Go on, I have a call to finish.” 

He scoffs, “rude, I was going to say that I may have found an out for my robotics midterm so hypothetically-” 

You squeal so loudly on the phone Peter pulls his own away from his ear, it was slightly obnoxious but knowing you were just as excited to see him made his heart melt. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” 

Peter gives you that boyish laugh, the one that makes your heart beat three times fast. 

“Baby, I didn’t even finish.” 

“You don’t have to! I know what you’re saying and I need you here so I can kiss your face and other stuff.” 

Peter’s tone drops seductively,  “oh? Like what other stuff?” 

“You want to see the fat squirrel right?” 

“The one in my pants?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“Okay, okay, so I was thinking I could come up on-” 

His name was called in the background, it made you pause for a second, he stopped talking for a minute. His name was called again, it was tilted, like a song almost, it was a female for sure. 

“Oh, peteyyy?” 

Your stomach dropped, that was your name for him. The name that he only liked you calling him, it was something that was so sacred and this person you don’t know saying it so loosely, like it’s regular. 

“Pete?” You say his name like you’re asking ‘who’s that?’ ‘why is she calling you that?’ ‘where are you, are you in your dorm?’ ‘why is there a girl in your room calling you my name?’ 

He coughs, “sorry, baby. I uh, I need to go but I’ll call you in a few hours, okay?” 

“Oh. Oka-” 

The line went dead. 

Your mind swimmed with dangerous thoughts, each one simmered down with the overwhelming echo that peter would never do anything like what a part of you is insinuating. Not to mention you were sure that he’d explain everything when he called you in a few hours, except when you sat around and waited, and waited, and waited, he never called. 

You fell asleep waiting on his call, you woke up with your morning alarm and checked your phone, no missed calls or texts. It felt weird, he never missed goodnight calls. It wasn’t until ten he tried to call, you had to ignore it because of your class but made a note to call him on your way back to your room.

At lunch everything shifted. 

You and some friends met up in the dining hall and you were in the middle of scarffing down fries when you tried to look up your friends ex’s new girlfriend on instagram, you were confronted with a message request. The picture and text made your hand fall, french fries scattering, you felt like you were about to puke all over the table. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re peter's girlfriend, we shared a class last semester and he talked about you all the time. I was out with some friends last night and I’m pretty sure I saw him at a bar with a girl that doesn’t look like you. If this isn’t him or if you guys aren’t together anymore please ignore this, idk i’d want someone to tell me. I’m sorry :(“ 

Sure enough the picture was grainy, definitely zoomed in from across the bar but it sure did look like him. A plaid button down you’ve seen him a million times in before, curls poked out the sides of his head, it seemed curlier and longer than you remember but it’s been a while since you saw him in person. 

His left arm was looped around the waist of a girl totally opposite of you, it looked like his other hand held her face steady as he kissed her. It made your vision go blurry, you’ve never felt this way before. Curls blocked the side of his face but it looked like him, maybe he looked taller than normal but it was a pic taken from far away, you want to question everything about it but the longer you look at it the sicker you feel. 

You shut out of the app and go back to smiling with your friends, you wonder how you’ll call him out. If you were strong enough you’d just ghost him all together, never speak to him again and make him question his insanity. 

Instead the second he called when you were home you picked it up with shaky hands. 

“Hi ba-” 

“We’re done.” 

You hung up the phone. 

It rang less than three seconds later. 

“I’m sorry, what did you-” 

“I said we’re done. Goodbye.” 

You hung up again. 

It rang even quicker, immediate redial. 

“Is this a joke?” 

“I dunno, peter. Am I?” 

“I-” 

“Save it, it doesn’t matter. We’re broken up, you can stop calling.” 

You don’t know why you thought that would settle things, if anything that made everything worse. 

The fourth time he facetimed, he only did it when he was alone, you assume he either kicked his roommate out or is biting the bullet to get teased by his friend for the rest of his life while he begs to keep his girlfriend. 

You answer, “what.” 

“I need to see your face, what are you telling me?” 

“What did you do last night?” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t know, what did I do?” 

You take a deep breath, “don’t play dumb. Who was she?” 

He makes a face of realization, “Ohhhh, you mean the girl on the phone?” 

You mock his tone, “yeah, the girl on the phone. You know, the one you were making out with?” 

You hear someone cough, it’s not peter, you can imagine the dead silence that just blanketed the room. 

Peter immediately takes the defense, “I didn’t make out with anyone last night, want to take the offense louder?” 

“Someone literally texted me a picture.” 

“Okay, so let me literally see it.” 

You narrow your eyes, “I don’t have to entertain this, peter. I broke up with you and you cheated, the end.” 

Peter sits up on his end, “no, not the end. You’re throwing damaging accusations out there and not giving me any fucking context.” 

“I. got. a. text.” You paused between each word to prove a point, also a little condescendingly. 

“Show. me.” He mocked your tone. 

You let a groan rip from your throat, “it doesn’t change that you did it.” 

Peter rubs his hand down his face, “okay, fuck this. I was here all night, in my dorm room. If you want you can ask my roommate, he was here, with his girlfriend,” he enunciated the last word, “who called me petey, you know, like you do, maybe, I don’t know, mockingly?”  

His words make you think, if he was truly guilty you don’t think he’d be defending himself so hard. You would think that once he was caught he’d fold his cards, instead he’s insulted you could even assume something like that. 

You take down the threat in your voice, “but… I got a picture. And it looks just like you.” 

Peter takes your side, he may defend his but he can’t make it better by pitting against you. 

“I’m sure it does, baby, but I promise I was here all night.” 

“Peter, it looks just like you.” 

He takes a deep breath to settle his frustration, “I know, but I promise it’s not me. Why would I cheat?” 

It’s a good question, you never would’ve thought he could but the picture was damning evidence. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you would, but I mean pete, it looks like you. He’s even wearing your green blue plaid button down.” 

Peter’s eyes bug open, his head spins, you know he’s staring his roommate in the eyes. 

“Evan!” They both exclaim at the same time. 

Your eyebrow scrunches, “who?” 

“Hair a little longer than mine? Maybe a little taller?” 

You pull your head back, “yeah… why?” 

Peter smiles wide, “making out with a blonde? At a bar?” 

“That would be it.” 

Peter shares a high five off screen. 

“That’s our friend Evan, he was on a date. He borrowed my shirt, wasn’t me, promise.” 

You stare at the screen, he seemed authentic and desperate for you to believe him. 

“Fine. We’re still dating for now, but I need to see you and him in the same room. Preferably from the back and in the same shirt.” 

“Done. I’ll print them out and bring them when I see you next week.” 

Peter winks at the screen and you squeal at the thought of seeing him so soon. 

[laluv-469]

"The Other Woman"

synopsis: its a mean one. gojo is cheating on his girlfriend with you and the guilt of sadness of it all is starting to hit you. practically a flashback and a psychological breakthrough contemplating why you tolerate his shit. but whether you continue to is an entirely more difficult question.

content: smut, jjk x reader, cheating gojo satoru x reader, vaginal sex, rough, hair pulling, unprotected, gojo on top, angry sex, dom, angst, asshole gojo, etc idk i dont write smut often lmao

for clarification; gojo would NEVER cheat, at least that's what I think. uh I just had this really neat, angsty idea linked to this song, and I know how to write gojo better than any other character. granted, toji or most definitely sukuna would fit better, but again, don't know how to write those characters as well. i also think this is a very poor interpretation of gojo and his personality, but it cruely exposes his flaws related to being a little boasty f-boy. hope it doesn't disappoint too much, i am not an experienced writer <3

deepest apologies for any typos and grammatical errors. literally editing this at 1 am ♡

word count: 1,526

As much as you hated thinking about it, you were undeniably the other woman. You were the woman Gojo would sneak out of the room to text once his girlfriend fell asleep. You were the woman he would call when he got lonely and sad. You were the woman he would take out on secret dates across town. And, of course, you were the woman Gojo would ruthlessly fuck at the local motel. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuckkk” Gojo would greedily groan as he slid his thick member in and out of your squelching hole. “You're nothing like her…” He chuckled to himself in awe as his grip on your hips tightened. 

“So- fuckin’ tight~!” He bared through gritted teeth.

You shifted your weight slightly, burying your head down into the sheets with furrowed brows. Your long locks of hair fell loosely over your shoulders, draping down over your forehead. You only hum lazily in response, a bored expression on your face as he pounded into your little pussy. 

God, he felt painfully good, but you hated when he compared you to her. You hated the way it made you think too much. And for awfully too long. Your eyes drifted off into long, angry thought. Gojo noticed this, and he also hated when you weren't receptive to him.

He had you bent over on your stomach,  breasts smushed against the sheets as his hips rolled against your ass. The man lowered himself to your head, his warm breath tickling your neck. In a swift motion, he moved his hands toward your stomach and pressed firmly, pushing himself deeper inside you. His thrusts soon became rough and intentional… like he was testing your limits. 

He managed to get a whimper out of you, your face contorting slightly with his change in pace. “Nngh~”

You tried to remain nonchalant though, turning your face away from him, not letting him see your arousal. 

With the hand that wasn't clenching your stomach, he pulled a large chunk of your hair to the left, forcing you to meet his piercing eyes. They were narrow and.. almost dark with deep passion.. anger.. whatever it was your actions made him feel. 

“Not feelin’ it hon?” He questioned with only slight irritation in his voice. 

"Am I doing a crap job, hm?” He asks in a low voice, humor and frustration swirling into one. 

Both of your heads were bobbing up and down with the intensity of his thrusts, heavy pants accompanying that. Still, he managed to stare into your soul as awaited your response. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the reserved whimpers you let out through tight lips. 

You avoided his eyes, closing them while trying to endure the pain. Each thrust sent him further inside you, his hips barely moving away from yours. It's like he was nearly locked in place with you, his hips bucking back and forth, keeping a small distance between your bodies. His grip on your body was tight, holding onto your hair and waist like his life fucking depended on it.

He scoffed at your silence, yanking at your hair again, harder this time, causing your head to whip back. You finally broke, your mouth was open and now loud. He seemed to have reached your core, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot. Each time, you swore you saw stars. It's like he was becoming one with you, his entire size stuffing you grossly. 

“Ah, ah ah!! S-Satoru-nn!!” You pleaded, your voice loud and squeaky, yet barely coherent.

“Don't- fucking ignore me…” He spoke in a low growl, his voice breaking in a similar manner to yours. 

He placed his temple against yours, your foreheads now pressed against each other as his movements grew more sloppy and erratic. His grip on your hair was still tight, practically using it for support as his body moved restlessly against you. Your scalp wss being stressed, strands sure to fall out after it's next brush.

“What's wrong, hm? Before.. I-” He stopped, struggling to speak and fuck you at the same time, “Before I pull out.. tell.. me” He panted heavily in an ugly rhythm with your moans, a lewd melody of slaps and grunts filling the air. 

He was close, you felt him throb inside you, and you were too. Your walls began to enclose, almost trapping him inside your hole. “Tight fuckin’ cunt…” He grunted lowly, chuckling to himself once again at the marvel that was your pretty little pussy. 

You shut your eyes tight as your orgasm neared, mouth gaped open, trying to find the right words. What could you possibly utter to him? You hated that he was in this secret “relationship” with you.. yet you let it fly. Why, though? Speak up, tell him! And so you did.

In broken words and whimpers, “Break.. up with her..” You regretted the words as soon as they escaped your lips, biting your entire lower lip in immediate guilt.

Gojo's hips stuttered a bit, your words clearly catching him by surprise. But you were too lost in the rhythm to stop. You felt a rising sensation in your stomach, a hungry desire to completely let loose everywhere. It was strong, so very strong, and you just needed this orgasm so badly. Your pussy was puffy and throbbing, his large member surely leaving you sore. He fucked and fucked and fucked, that lovely spot being tapped and played with till it went off. Shortly after, you came all over his cock, juices spilling out and dripping onto the bed. He fucked your cunt still, helping you ride out your orgasm as he neared his. Your eyes rolled back, the feeling of being emptied and filled all over again overstimulating you immensely, yet satisfying your desire so beautifully.

He followed shortly after, shooting his load inside you accompanied by the release of your hair, relief washing over the both of you. Letting out a heavy, slutty breath into your ear, he slowed down significantly, gently fucking the mixture of cum inside of you. Your head was soon back on the bed, red from shame and regret at what you said before. However the man simply pulled out and collapsed beside you, both of you simply laying on your stomachs, backs rising and falling with the aftermaths of an intense session. He raised his hand to your head, caressing your scalp in a comforting manner, as to apologize for the pulling and yanking.

He sighed, a worrisome look on his pretty fuck-boy face. “Break up with her?” He whispered.. sounding sad… Sad? 

This asshole, what did he have to be sad about? You were the one crying yourself to sleep every night and eating alone more often than not. And imagine how his girlfriend would feel if she knew? This entitled, pretty asshole.

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily, turning your head to face the white-haired man. “Yes. She doesn't deserve to be cheated on for one, now you're just leading her on. Are you that dense or what?”

His head pulled back slightly in a contorted facial expression, seemingly offended by your comment. But he knew you were right, his eyes drifting away in thought. “You're right… Just.. let's sleep on it.” He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut.

Yeah, he sure did have a habit of putting this off. He'd always find an excuse not to think about it or talk about it.

You huffed, pulling away from his touch and rolling out of the trashy motel mattress. “No, that's your decision.” 

He pissed you off, his eyes fluttering open again and stupidly following you with the dumb puppy face. You ignored him though, limping your way to the bathroom with a change of clothes. 

Took a piss, showered, and changed within the next 20 minutes, you stepped out fully clean and refreshed. You dried up your hair a few feet away from the bed, Gojo watching your every move. Your face was scrunched up and angry, hating the fact that he was looking at you so desperately right now. Why'd you even let him fuck you? 

“I'm going home,” You grabbed your bag and phone, heading for the door.

Without even realizing, Gojo was rushing out of bed, quickly stumbling toward you, “Fuck do you mean? I'm not driving you back over right now..” He leaned against the door frame butt naked, dick hanging loose and head tilted sideways.

You pushed his chest lightly, “Put some clothes on, get some sleep. I'll take a bus or something.” Again, you turn away from him, heading for the door knob.

Gojo's hand grabbed your arm, tugging you softly. “Why are you mad… baby… you know how this goes..” He practically pleaded, a tired and worn out expression on his stupid face.

“Cut it out, please I'm done Satoru I'm tired of feeling like shit every day.” You threw your head back, sadness and anger finally broke through. 

“I'll cut her off, okay?” He spoke quickly and firmly, almost as if just to shut you up. After that, it was all a blur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That day though, you fell for the facade, running right back into his arms, climbing right back into that bed, and continuing to be just the other woman.

Why you still do it? For the thrill? For the love? You sat for hours thinking about it, writing about it, crying about it. You almost told his girlfriend a couple of times. You have countless pages saved in your notes explaining everything to her, yes everything. But your heart and soul know you won't ever tell her, better yet jeopardize the “relationship” you have right now. 

“Hey love…” He would greet you, caressing your cheek and brushing through your hair with his pale slender fingers. “You're so beautiful baby… I don't deserve you.” He smiled warmly at you, love genuinely radiating from his body.

Was any of that real? He was right though. A cheater doesn't deserve you. But you weren't any fucking better that's for sure. You're not sure when this will end, but damn you hope it ends with you finally being content and happy. No longer, the other woman.

[lemoniiiiiii]

Haiii I love you and your Warren stuff, I absolutely require more but I have no ideas to ask you to write ^^"

-Duckie 💜

please please please (short n' sweet)

(warren lipka x fem!reader) in where you swear you have good taste in lovers, but your new boyfriend makes everyone think otherwise (wc: ~3.2k) (this fic is a part of my short n' sweet collection!)

content: fluff, angst, established relationship, swearing, drugs (weed), nsfw actions implied

note: ILYT THANK YOU for the request!! (so so sorry this took so long!) also using a song about barry keoghan to write about a movie he was in just feels so good to my brain idk. (also ermm... UK is supposed to be the university of kentucky idk if ppl call it that just go with it)

__

the dim light of the living room provided a warm atmosphere for the party you (somewhat) spontaneously decided to attend. your girlfriends had been pestering you to go out recently and you figured coming along this time would get them off your back, at least for a bit. you and your two closest friends lounged on plush couches, drinks in hand. as you sat, listening rather than speaking, your friend marissa’s voice cut through the chatter. the walls seemed to close in when she asked the question you had been dreading:

"so who's this guy you're dating again?"

"uhm... he-" you shifted in your seat, feeling your unease gradually intensify. "he goes to UK.."

another friend, cleo, who sat further down on the couch, leaned forward with a laugh. "come on, girl," she teased. "why is this like pulling teeth with you? stop being so vague and just spit it out."

typically, you'd never be one to hide information about a guy you're dating from the girls but you knew how they were gonna react. you had been avoiding the topic for weeks.

"cause' i know y'all don't like him!" you snapped. "y'all don't like him and i honestly don't want to be lectured-"

"we're not gonna lecture you-" marissa interrupted, her voice softening, trying to reassure you.

"how could we not like him if we don't even know him?" cleo added.

you rolled your eyes. your friends, as sweet as they were, could be very blunt with their opinions on guys. especially ones you dated. sure, your last ex did end up hooking up with his overly flirty biochemistry lab partner, but that wasn’t until after you broke up. a week after, to be exact—but still, it wasn’t like he cheated. and the one before that, the one with a slight drinking problem, couldn't really help it. addiction ran in his family (that's what he told you at least) plus he was irish! who were you to deny him participation in his culture? your friends couldn't be right about everything and you certainly didn't want to entertain the thought they could be right about-

"warren? warren fucking lipka?"

you felt your face heat up at marissa's reaction.

"yes, warren… lipka," you murmured, feeling the air grow heavy as their disapproving stares settled on you. this felt so much worse than how you’d imagined it in your head.

"deals-weed-and-sells-burner-phones-out-of-his-dorm warren?" marissa asked in disbelief.

"didn't he just break the record for most yellow cards in a single season?" cleo added, one eyebrow arched in skepticism.

"he doesn’t deal anymore—and he’s going through some stuff," you huffed, frustration bubbling up as you tried to defend him. warren had never really loved soccer, and after losing all respect for his father following his parents' messy divorce, he’d grown to despise the sport. as for dealing, you’d convinced him to stop after a close call with the cops. besides, he couldn’t stop getting high off his own supply.

"y/n, don’t take this the wrong way… we just don’t want to see you get hurt again," marissa said gently, her voice full of concern.

"or end up as a pothead," cleo chimed in, more bluntly. "you… haven’t smoked with him, have you?"

you didn’t respond, suddenly paralyzed by the sight of a familiar face, standing idly by the drinks table. spencer reinhard. if he was here, then that meant…

a pair of hands covered your eyes, followed by the smell of old spice and a hint of weed. "guess who?"

ah, shit.

"hey…" you said nervously, glancing around the room. of course, he's at the one party you decided to attend.

"you're supposed to guess- whatever- guess what, babe?" warren grinned as he plopped down on your side of the couch, far too comfortably for your liking.

"what?" you asked, trying to keep your voice level.

"got my hands on a couple of pre-rolls," he said, pulling out a small baggy with a smirk. "i told my guy about you, and he threw in some edibles as a gift."

"told him about me?"

"yeah, he couldn't believe it. luckily, i had that polaroid of us—"

you froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. the first time you had sex high with warren, you came up with the "great" idea to take pictures together afterward. you thought you had hid them, but he must've swiped one without your knowledge.

"you had what?"

"don't worry," warren said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "i covered the lower half with my hand- are these your friends?" he glanced at the others. "you guys look a bit tense. you interested?" he waved the baggy slightly.

"no." marissa said sternly, her eyes narrowing as she shot him a cold look. cleo, sitting beside her, simply ignored him, her expression unreadable.

"jeez, what's their problem?" warren muttered.

"warren, go hang out with spence…" you desperately wanted him to leave.

sensing your discomfort, warren shrugged. "fine," he said, standing up. "we'll be out back. let me know when you wanna go- i’ll give you a ride."

you watched as warren walked away, a pang of guilt settling in for how dismissive you had been. you were only trying to protect him until you could get your friends to understand. yes, warren was incredibly chaotic, but that was part of what drew you to him. he wasn’t just some lazy stoner; he wanted to push boundaries and break rules. he yearned to live a different kind of life, to do something extraordinary, unbothered by what others thought.

but he cared what you thought, and you had just pushed him away.

you rose from the couch, glancing over at your friends. the need to apologize was growing by the second, urging you to make things right. "hey guys, i'll see you around. i think i need to-"

before you could finish, warren was suddenly at your side. "we've gotta go, come on."

"what? why?" you asked, confused.

"LIPKA!" you heard someone roar from an open door. "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!"

warren’s strong grip clamped around your wrist, pulling you out of the house. as you stumbled behind him, you took a glance back and saw the angry figure charging toward you, recognizing the unmistakable frat symbol on his shirt.

when you finally reached the car, spencer was already in the driver’s seat, watching behind you. without hesitation, you scrambled into the backseat and warren followed, the frantic moment pushing you into the vehicle.

"GO, GO, GO!" warren shouted, a hint of laughter in his voice. the engine roared to life, and the car surged forward, its tires screeching against the pavement.

the escape left your heart pounding furiously, and you struggled to process the chaos you had just experienced. the boys erupted in laughter as the car sped away. warren leaned forward, playfully thumping spencer on the shoulder.

“serves that fucking asshole right!” he exclaimed, his grin wide with satisfaction.

“what happened?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

warren pulled out a wad of cash, holding it up with a triumphant smirk. “i sold that dumbass jake a baggy of flour.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly, your friend's comments echoing in your mind. warren glanced at you. his mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but he quickly thought better of it. you both stayed quiet the whole ride to your college apartment, avoiding the tension that hung between you like a dark cloud.

when spencer finally pulled up to the curb, you both stepped out of the car, the cool night air doing little to ease the knot in your stomach. you walked ahead, the familiar path to your apartment feeling longer than usual, while warren followed closely behind.

as soon as the door to your place clicked shut, warren got straight to the point.

“what’s going on?” his eyes were fixed on you, searching for answers.

“warren, i’m just tired-"

“that’s bullshit, y/n, and you know it,” he shot back, stepping closer, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away. your relationship was still fairly new and you had never seen him like this. not with you, anyway.

you stayed quiet, biting your lip as you searched for something, anything, to say that wouldn’t make things worse. but the words wouldn’t come, trapped somewhere between your throat and the overwhelming pressure in your chest.

warren ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the sharp tug of his fingers as they glided through the long strands. his voice dropped to a softer tone, almost vulnerable, as if the question he was about to ask took everything out of him. "are- are you embarrassed of me?"

"baby… no-" you began, but your voice faltered as you caught the frown on his face. it was a small, almost imperceptible pouting of his lips, but it spoke volumes. he didn’t believe you. and deep down, in a place you didn’t want to admit even existed, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself either.

warren shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back against the wall, his arms crossing defensively. "you never even let me come over when you head back home."

you opened your mouth to respond, your mind racing to come up with something that would make this better, make him understand. "that’s because-" you started, but he cut you off.

"you think i’m gonna embarrass you in front of your parents," he said, the words spilling out in a rush. "'our poor perfect daughter is dating a fuck-up.' i’m not a fuck-up! i just have different plans for my life than you boring-ass people!"

"warren, i never-" you tried to interject, but he was on a roll now, the floodgates of his emotions opening wide.

"and i can’t fucking be perfect all the time!" he yelled. "i’m fucking human!" he continued to ramble, his words tumbling over each other, his breaths coming quicker.

"warren-" you tried again, but he didn’t seem to hear you.

"WARREN!" you finally shouted, your voice slicing through his seemingly never-ending rant.

he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes snapping to yours, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back whatever else he was desperate to say. "WHAT?!" he barked.

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "fine, next friday, i’m supposed to head back home… it’s my dad’s birthday dinner… you can come and meet my family."

warren’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "i don’t need your pity invitation,"

you stepped closer, your eyes locking onto his. "i want you to come!" you insisted. "it’s never been about you. it’s just… my parents can be a bit judgmental," you lied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t bear to tell him the truth.

warren studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "you promise?" he asked, stepping closer to you.

you reached out, taking his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i promise," you said softly, hoping that the warmth in your voice would be enough to convince him, even if you were still trying to convince yourself.

he lazily guided your arms around his back, his touch gentle as he pulled you into a sweet embrace. his warmth enveloped you, and as his arms tightened around you, a familiar sense of safety washed over you. being in his arms never failed to make you feel protected, cherished, as if nothing in the world could touch you.

despite the conflicting feelings that swirled inside you about how others perceived your relationship- their judgments, their whispers-none of it seemed to matter when you were wrapped up in him like this. in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, all you felt was the love you had for him, pure and undeniable, drowning out any doubts or fears.

you felt warren shift in your embrace, his body tensing slightly against yours. instinctively, you pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you noticed the sudden change in him.

"babe?" you asked, tilting your head as you looked up at him. "are you… hard?"

warren’s cheeks flushed as he offered a sheepish grin, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "you just look so fuckin' hot right now…" it more had to do with you raising your voice at him for the first time but he would never admit to that.

a surprised laugh escaped your lips. "ohhh my god," you said, shaking your head. "weirdo!" the playful insult held no real bite; if anything, you were relieved that his thoughts had shifted to something less serious, even if it was a bit… unsavory.

"sorrryy," warren drawled out, his grin wide.

you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "alright, come on-" you began to turn around when, without warning, he scooped you up, tossing you over his shoulder with surprising ease.

“warren!” you squealed in surprise, but your protests were ignored as he held you securely, his strong arms wrapping around your legs as he carried you toward your room with a determined stride.

"to the bedroom!" he declared, as he marched forward, your laughter echoing through the hallway.

as he carried you into the room, you could feel the tension of earlier melting away, replaced by the warmth of his affection and the thrill of being so completely swept up in his arms.

--

you’d been worried about how warren would fit into the evening at your parents, thinking to your friends criticisms, but to your surprise, the atmosphere had been light and warm, the conversation flowing easily. it turned out that your dad had been friends with warren’s father during their college days- which served as an easy topic to build off of. although warren wasn’t particularly fond of talking about his dad, he managed during the talk, his jokester personality doing wonders with your parents.

after dinner, the mood was relaxed, everyone contentedly full and in good spirits. the suggestion to watch a movie came up, and it was quickly agreed upon. as you and your mom went to sit on the couch, your dad motioned for warren to join him on the porch. there was a certain seriousness in your dad’s tone that made you pause, a small flicker of worry sparking in the back of your mind. but you brushed it off, telling yourself it was nothing. probably just a typical fatherly chat.

still, as the minutes ticked by and they didn’t return, the worry began to gnaw at you. you exchanged a glance with your mom, who raised an eyebrow, her expression mirroring your own unease. finally, unable to ignore the growing curiosity, you decided to check on them.

you slowly slid the glass door open, stepping out onto the porch, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “hey-” you started, peering around the corner, only to freeze at the sight before you. “oh, what the fuck? dad!”

your dad, looking far too amused for his own good, was holding a joint, a cloud of smoke curling lazily in the air around him. he chuckled at your reaction as passed the joint off to warren, who accepted it with a grin, taking a casual drag as if this were the most normal thing in the world. he would've killed you if he ever caught you smoking but here he is.

"what?" your dad replied with a shrug. he glanced at warren, who was now chuckling along with him, clearly enjoying the situation. "it's my birthday! i think i deserve to treat myself"

behind you, your mom appeared in the doorway, having followed you outside when you didn’t return. she took one look at the scene and burst into laughter, the sound infectious and disarming. you found yourself laughing too, the absurdity of it all breaking through your shock.

“i can’t believe this,” you muttered, shaking your head, but unable to wipe the grin from your face as you watched them both continue to banter as if they were old buddies.

--

the car hummed softly as you drove through the dimly lit streets. warren sat in the passenger seat, his arm resting casually on the window ledge as he glanced at you.

"you know," he began, speaking a bit slurred as his hand played with one of your loose curls. "your dad is seriously cool… like, really cool. and, uh, i gotta say it- your mom’s a total milf."

you felt your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you glanced over at him, half-laughing, half in disbelief. "warren, please, don’t fuck my mom."

warren's eyes widened, and he quickly waved his hands in front of him as if warding off your words. "whoa, whoa- no, i didn’t mean it like that!" he stammered. "i meant it objectively, you know? respectfully. she’s a milf, sure, but like… it's cool to see where you get all your killer looks from," he added, trying to recover.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his desperate attempt to backtrack. "nice save," you replied, your lips curving into a smirk as you focused back on the road.

warren chuckled, visibly relieved that you weren’t upset. "i mean it though," he said more softly, his voice carrying a sincere note that held more layers than he could express in the moment. "you’ve got great genes."

you pulled up in front of warren’s house and parked, turning off the engine, the sudden silence filling the small space between you.

he took a moment before unbuckling his seatbelt, his movements slow as if he was reluctant to leave. he turned to face you, his expression earnest now. "thanks for the ride," he said, hand reaching to scratch the back of his head. "and, you know, for trusting me. i don’t take that lightly."

you met his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the sincerity in his eyes. "of course," you replied softly. you can't believe you ever doubted him. "i trust you, warren."

there was a brief pause, a moment where the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet cocoon of the car. then, without warning, warren leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. it was soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise (and of course weed).

when he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "see you tomorrow?"

"yeah, see you tomorrow."

warren opened the car door and stepped out, turning back to give you one last look. "goodnight,"

"goodnight," you echoed, watching as he walked up the path to his front door. he paused at the entrance, giving you a final wave before disappearing inside.

you sat there for a moment, the smile on your face widening as you replayed the evening’s events in your mind. the earlier worries and doubts that had clouded your thoughts now seemed distant, almost silly. maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to be so worried after all.

[piastriesque]

leave the scent fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

⤷warnings: cheating, manipulation, suggestive

⤷summary: fernando may be a cheater but at least he smells so good

⤷word count: 1.1k

note: 'cologne' by beabadoobee inspired me to write this. i wanted to add link, but it didn't look the way i wanted it to, i didn't know how to make it smaller. anyways, it's really fun song. i apologize for any mistakes

“Mmm,” you murmured, hugging him. “You really smell so good. I absolutely love your cologne.” “I noticed,” Fernando chuckled. “The bottle of it is nearly empty. But I guess I should buy another one since you like it so much.” “Yes, please.” You rested your head on the nape of his neck to smell it better. “Speaking of scents… you smell different today.” he whispered in your ear, “Do I sense musk?” “Yes, white musk. I bought it yesterday.” “Hmm, what else do we have here?” he inhaled deeply, “Vanilla, cedarwood, bergamot, and…” “You are so good at it. I believe there’s also pear, rose, jasmine…” you were thinking “Wait. I'll just show you the packaging.” After a brief moment, the man held the perfume box in his hands. He read the product description with interest to find out what fragrance notes he did not detect. He then opened the box and slowly took the bottle out of it. Inside was a small glass rose. He had to admit that it looked quite realistic. “The bottle was the first thing that caught my eye. Look at these thorns!” you were quite excited, “This rose is tiny, but attention to detail has been maintained.” “It’s gorgeous,” he agreed. “Okay, enough about the bottle.” You put the perfume back on the shelf and walked closer to the man. “What do you think of the fragrance?” “It’s quite… intense.” “Intense? Is this a bad thing?” you laughed, but actually felt a little insecure, you really cared about his good opinion. “No. Of course not. You smell great. It was definitely a good choice,” he reassured you. “But very different from what you used before.” “I know. I guess I want to be more… seductive.” You could feel your cheeks turning red. “Seductive?” he smirked and came closer to you. You nodded, embarrassed. “If so,” he grabbed you by the chin and lifted it so that you looked into his eyes, “How about showing me how seductive you are?”

You were lying on his chest, drawing zigzags on it with your finger. You wanted this moment to last forever. “Nena,” he kissed your head, “I have to leave in a minute.” “No, please stay longer,” you pouted. “I can’t. I have to go home. Javi is sick,” he explained while stroking your hair. You weren't going to argue anymore. You knew how important his children were to him, and you understood that. Nevertheless, the position you held in his life did not satisfy you. On the other hand, what could you expect going into a relationship with a married man with children? This is the question your voice of reason should prompt you to ask. Unfortunately, your voice of reason and moral compass have drowned in the Spaniard's brown eyes. Sometimes when remorse would catch you, you would recall his words about his wife. About how badly she treats him. How the feeling between them had faded years ago, and they are only together because of the children. About the fact that the children are growing up, and it will soon be the right time to divorce. “What's going on in that beautiful mind?” his voice snapped you out of your reverie. “Do you love me?” “Of course,” he kissed you softly, “I love you. Where did this silly question come from?” “I wonder if you are taking me seriously. We only meet at my place. We can't go to the park together or to any restaurant. Nowhere. I can't call you when you're at home. I don't know your friends. You don't want to introduce me to your parents. You're even hiding your address from me,” you were upset and tired. “Mi amor.” Fernando started caressing your cheek, “I will soon introduce you to my children, parents, and friends. I will brag about you in front of everyone. We will go on romantic dates regularly. And as for my address, one day you will know it by heart… You will live in this house.” “Are you serious? Are we going to live there?” “Of course, cariño. You, me and my… sorry, our children. I mean, only if that’s what you want” You smiled widely and kissed his lips, “I want it.” “I’m glad,” he smiled and unlocked his phone to check the time. “I think I really should go.” “Why don't you stay a little longer? I don't think this will hurt anyone. I’m not done yet.” You put your hand on his chest, slowly running it down his body. “Let’s go for another round,” you whispered in his ear. “You know what,” he kissed your neck, “You really are seductive.” You knew you wouldn't be able to drag out the moment of his leaving, but you hoped he would at least leave the scent of his cologne.

Fernando was right; your new perfume really was intense. After leaving your flat, he could smell them on himself all the time. His cologne was also strong, but a sensitive nose could sense that it was mixed with some other scent. He was afraid his wife would do it.

“Mi amor,” he greeted his wife, entering the room. “Hi. Your meeting lasted a little longer than it was supposed to.” She said while cutting vegetables. “Unfortunately. But you know how it is” he sighed “As a little compensation, on my return, I went shopping. Kids still in school?” “Yes, they will need to be picked up soon.” “I will do it,” he declared, “But first… I have something for you.” “Really? What’s that?” The man pulled a box from his shopping bag. He then handed it to the woman. “Perfume?” She smiled, holding a bottle with a glass rose inside. “As soon as they fell into my hands, I immediately thought of you.” “The design is really beautiful.” “Design? Wait until you smell the fragrance,” he laughed and took the bottle from her hands. Fernando sprayed the perfume in the air and walked into it, with a proud face. “Stop it” she couldn’t stop giggling, “You are about to use up all the perfume.” She walked up to the man and hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head. “I must say, it smells really nice,” she acknowledged. “You see, I have a taste. And it's not just this perfume, I've also chosen the most gorgeous woman to be my wife.” The woman looked deep into his eyes, “Thank you. For the perfume and for everything. Thank you for being in my life. I love you.” “I love you too.”

[zerokurokawa]

I absolutely love your writing so I'm back for more!

I really like the whole song prompt idea since I usually listen to music while scrolling through here so I wanna keep that going.

This one is gonna be based on I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James (or by Beyoncé up to you)

Im think cheater!bonten!Ran x singer!reader, where reader has known for a long time about ran's cheating but decides to not leave him. Reader would eventually have to perform the song (the one above) infront of bonten. I feel like when Ran finally realizes the song is about him he would try his hardest to push through the rest of the performance, he's ofc infront of Mikey and the others so he would try to stay and act nonchalant but wouldn't be able to due to all the staring coming from Mikey. (I also feel like the entirety of bonten would see reader as a sweetheart who's just trying to make it through) I feel like they wouldn't be fazed by his cheating but more so surprised about him cheating on reader of all things yk?

Omg that's a lot but I truly believe you can bring it too life!

(also please feel better soon!!!)

I'd Rather Go Blind | Bonten!Ran x Reader (Cheating) </3

You were talented, exquisite, poise, and perfect all around. How could this have happened to you? Finding out through the great vine of people and connections you had that Ran, your long time boyfriend, had been fooling around on you was not supposed to be apart of your life's story. Being a club owner had its perks, you supposed as you thought about the copious amount of women he came across while partying and running the damn thing. 

You often performed at this very club. You sang like an angel sent down straight from heaven and Ran often paid you extra on the nights that you took over to perform. People from all over the city would come and see you and they knew you by name, asking if you were the that was going to be putting on a show tonight. You were practically famous in Roppongi. 

Yet here you were, begging yourself to get it together after reading the messages that were sent to you anonymously through text about Ran messing around. You had a show to put on tonight, everybody was going to be there as well. As you gathered yourself together and looked in the mirror, a small tear fell from your left eye and landed on your cheek. You dabbed it off with a napkin and whispered to yourself, "Showtime". 

______________________________________________________________

There, on stage in an elegant evening gown, you stood. Smiling and greeting everyone while the thoughts of him being with another woman ran through your mind. You had told the backstage crew already which song you were going to sing, and it was a ballad towards your lost love. 

The music began and you saw Ran sitting in the crowd, smile glistening at you as you were his pride and joy. Disgust came across your face, as you noticed he had not a single clue that you knew. 

Something told me it was over When I saw you and her talkin' Something deep down in my soul said, 'Cry, girl' When I saw you and that girl walkin' around...

You continued to sing, watching as Ran was starting to shift uncomfortably in his seat. His face remained nonchalant as you reached the chorus of the song. Mikey and Rindou, who were sitting next to him, noticed his behavior and began to stare, questioning his nervous antics. 

I would rather, I would rather go blind boy Than to see you walk away from me child, and all...

Ran would finally get the hint, the song was directed towards him as he saw the anger begin to spread across your face. The lyrics, the body language, everything... he knew that you knew. 

So you see, I love you so much That I don't want to watch you leave me baby Most of all, I just don't, I just don't want to be free no...

It was this verse alone that made Ran stand up to leave. He had enough of the guilt, the embarrassment. He knew that Mikey and the others knew. He knew that you normally only performed upbeat pop songs, yet, you had chosen a ballad of lost love to call him out on his bullshit. 

And baby, baby, I would rather, I would rather be blind boy Than to see you walk away, see you walk away from me, yeah Baby, baby, baby, I'd rather be blind now...

As you reached the end of the song, Ran was left standing at the corner of the club. By the door, he waited until the last line. Once he heard it, he slammed open the door and walked out, leaving you on stage with a large crowd cheering for you. You had conveyed the message of your broken heart.

______________________________________________________________

Ran had snuck up behind you in the back of the club in your dressing room. He had tears in hi eyes but strangely enough, a blank look on his face. 

"It's over, isn't it?" He finally spoke as you looked at him through your mirror. 

"I'm afraid it is, Ran." 

"Would you ever let me explain myself? Would you ever let me redeem myself?" He begged. 

You couldn't speak. You were at complete loss for words as he tried to wrap his arms around you. Three years were down the drain. 

"No..." You said quietly. He unwrapped his arms and stood back. You looked up, eyes watering and makeup starting to run. You looked so beautiful when you cried, like a weeping angel with the voice of a siren. 

"Please... Y/n..." He begged once more. 

"Leave, Ran." He did as you said, but not without turning around once more to look at you; taking in all of your beauty. 

(A/N: I'm feeling a lot better, hope you enjoy this! It broke my heart just to write it.)

[melancholicbat666]

The Other Woman.

You and carmen had been dating for a while, but he unfortunately didn't seem to think it was that serious. (not about cheating)

On the mornings at the beginning of it all, Carmen used to welcome you with breakfast in bed, treating you like something easily breakable, that could end up slipping out of his hand and breaking into so many pieces that it couldn't be glued back together. Several huge bouquets at home, heart-shaped chocolate, it was a cliché, but in the end it was a cliché that Carmen made, so it ended up being everything.

Everything was going well, until the day you had to ask yourself "What the fuck did I did to him?"

Awake all night, looking at the boy's feet, in the middle of the night, walking here and there. He spent so much time walking around the house, that his steps almost formed a song with a specific and well-formed sequence, everything, except sleeping with you, could be on the couch, or on top of the bills at The Beef, but it was never with you.

The next day of those many nights, when you woke up suddenly after dozing off, all you could hear was Carmen's footsteps. Going to the door. Opening. Going away. Forgetting your kiss, or maybe a "hi" via text, even if it's late. Leaving the cigarette smoke of the day.

The house was empty all day, but empty of affection for the rest of the week. So you could try to occupy yourself completely, with a quick kiss on the weekends. And more and more you could remember traditional American couples, both of whom no longer love each other, but they remain together for what they once were, for the hope of looking at that stranger and thinking: "I once loved someone who was like you."

After work, you started washing the dishes, singing as if everything was fine, and putting the damp dishes out to dry, the kitchen was a disaster, but that was a matter for Carmen-Distant, when he came back from work, to the greatest point of stress. There was also the living room, which was the same as the kitchen, especially the painting of the former owner, a clown smiling, with his eyes looking to the side in a very expressive way, perhaps he thought he was going to turn into a cuckoo clock. Carmy used to leave the day's notes there, and over time the untouched image created a barrier of dust over the post-it, and a small square was formed behind all the dust. There were no squares, just dust.

It was annoying how your own boyfriend became just a submissive thought, someone you didn't see right for a good period, that's what made you make the decision to question Carmy, and without the right to escape, or any unsuspecting nap.

-Are you awake at this time?-The blonde asked, entering the apartment, and immediately coming across the image of the living room, you sitting on the sofa with a stressed expression, with your legs crossed, but not at all courteous, more controlling.

-Awake to wait for you to arrive.-You looked at Carmen, but looked away elsewhere, biting your lower lip, then said:

-I want to tell you something, actually, I want to talk about something with you.

Carmen frowned, and his eyebrows too, setting up a series of expression lines on his face, and looking to the side, like the clown, and then at you, he said:

-Okay, so, can I take a shower first?

-Carmen, now. Please.- Your posture remained the same, and Carmen, without insisting (perhaps he realized you were stressed), sat down in one of the armchairs, close to the sofa. It was these small things in addition to the big ones that made you upset, for example, at that moment the sofa wasn't occupied, not even a little, and he preferred the armchair at the other end of where you were.

The two looked at each other for a while, until anger took its toll on your mind, and you managed to wake up and remember what you were going to do.

-Don't you realize how far away you are? how alone I am, and it's not even because I don't have anyone, I've been alone in the relationship, since some time ago. I want it to be something plural, that's why we date.

The boy's face shriveled like a fruit, if he hadn't been close to someone, you could have sworn he would cry right there, he got close, but broke your heart, when his voice was shaky.

-You know it's my brother's restaurant, I mean, it was. Sorry. I shouldn't be justifying this shit, but I really don't want you to be mad. What have I been distant about?-He dropped his eyes to the ground, redder than a tomato, and panting like a Pug.

-In everything, Carmy. You don't call me anything affectionate anymore, we no longer have hugs, sex isn't important to mention, but it has an honorable mention.-You laughed at your own speech, but the boy remained mesmerized by the floor.-I shouldn't laugh. But I feel useless, and inconvenient, like, why should I be in your life if I'm ignored? you know?

-I'm sorry. Fuck. I didn't want to be so overwhelmed.-He stopped talking, and looked at you with the kind of look you've never seen coming from him.-Damn, you're the most important thing in my life, and I'm leaving you to listen to Richie complaining all day. Can I say sorry again?

-I forgive you, Carmy. But I really hope it's not something without confidence, because if it is, it will hurt me a lot.

-It will not be. It won't be.-He got up, and gave you a passionate, delicate kiss, different from superficial and quick kisses. Looking at you, he gave a smile, which for sure, if it had a taste, would be milk chocolate. -Do you want to go take a shower? you smell like Carmen-Repressor.-One more kiss, before you could respond.

The shower was quick, the water hot, and both of them laughing at themselves. Carmen started to tell a story about when he developed a phobia of bar soaps, when he thought about the manufacturers putting their hands on something that would later go all over his body. Both laughed together, but shortly after Carmen bent over, and "laid" on your lap, with his cheek on your collarbone, his hand around your waist, and his hair touching your shoulder.

-I love you.-He said, looking up, with a smile.

-I still need a tidy kitchen, and a big breakfast in bed, to fully reconcile with you.-You said, with a serious face, a staged and sarcastic seriousness.

Note: srry if the story was horrible, its late, and I didnt even proofread the text before posting 😭

[storiesforallfandoms]

more than a song ~ alex turner

word count: 2937

request?: yes!

“hi lovely! i wanted to request an alex turner x reader. just something based off of the song you’re so dark by arctic monkeys. he’s been friends with you for a while but a side comment from his girlfriend (something just like she doesn’t get how they’re just friends) and it’s just snaps into place. ig just him writing the song and moments of them together. maybeeeee him jacking off imagining her on all fours 👀. something like that! thank youuuuu”

description: in which he starts by writing a song about his best friend who is much different than him, and it turns into something more

pairing: alex turner x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (male masturbation), kind of cheating since alex is imagining the reader and not his girlfriend (who will be a made up character, not his real girlfriend louise), also the reader doesn’t really know what alex was doing so idk take that into consideration? idk these warnings are a mess now

masterlist (one, two, three)

It all started with a comment his girlfriend, Cheryl, made.

“She’s so dark. How are you two friends?”

They had just left a night out with Alex’s bandmates and his best friend, (Y/N). It was the first time the two women had met, which Alex was hoping would go well since both of them meant so much to him. They had just barley left the bar when Cheryl made the comment.

It amused him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Why do you say that?”

Cheryl gave Alex a look. “Really?”

He stopped walking so he could turn to face her. “I’m serious. What do you mean she’s dark?”

“Alex...she talked for nearly an hour about HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.”

Alex waited, expecting her to explain why that was a bad thing. When she didn’t, he said, “Yeah, those are her favorite authors.”

“They’re very depressing authors.”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve never read any of their stuff.”

Cheryl closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s got a very dark personality, Alex. Like murder of crows follow her around, Addams family’s long lost member dark. It’s just weird to me that you’re her friend when she’s so depressing.”

“Hey, you may think that, but she’s still my best friend. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t insult her like that.”

Cheryl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I should be questioning your friendship with her in different ways.”

It was safe to say the night did not go as planned. Alex brought Cheryl home in a tense silence. He gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek before she got out without a word, slamming her door shut behind her.

The night had definitely left a slight strain on their relationship. Cheryl had decided that she hated (Y/N) just because of this idea she had that Alex and (Y/N) had romantic feelings for one another, but Alex refused to end his friendship with her when that wasn’t true at all, and when he had known (Y/N) for so much longer than Cheryl. So, even though they decided to continue their relationship, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.

But Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N)’s personality stuck in Alex’s mind. He had never noticed a “darkness” to his best friend. She was just (Y/N), the person Alex had known since they were kids. But now he was thinking about the things she liked, and the way she acted and just her general personality. He found himself humming to himself around his apartment; a melody at first, but eventually lyrics started forming in his mind.

“You got your HP Lovecraft. Your Edgar Allan Poe.”

He quickly rushed to his work desk to scribble down the lyrics as they came to his head.

“You got your unkind ravens, and your murder of crows.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he thought of Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N) being like a murder of crows. What Cheryl didn’t know was that (Y/N) had a tattoo along the backside of her left shoulder that was a flock of black birds. They weren’t distinguishable birds, but she often said it was a murder of crows since they were black birds. Cheryl would probably have lost her mind if (Y/N) was wearing anything that would’ve showed off that tattoo.

Thinking of Cheryl caused his mind to wander to the turmoil of their relationship. He looked down at the verse and chorus he had written about (Y/N) and thought about the fact that he was in the process of writing a song for his best friend when he had never had thought about writing one for Cheryl at all since they started dating. Maybe Cheryl was right to think Alex felt stronger feelings than friendship for (Y/N).

He shook his head. No, that’s not it. She’s my best friend since we were kids, and I’ve only known Cheryl for a few months. That’s all it is.

“I know you’re nothing like mine, cause she’s walking on sunshine. And your love would tear us apart.”

Alex was at his desk for nearly an hour putting the song together. He had two full verses and a rough outline for the chorus, but it still needed something more. He was toying around with more lyrics when he started writing, “You watch Italian horror and you listen to the scores. Leather-clad and spike collar, I want you down on all fours.”

“Whoa,” he muttered to himself. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

But now that he had written it, he couldn’t help but picture (Y/N) doing exactly what he had written: on his bed, down on all fours, her ass in the air.

He shook his head. “No,” he scolded himself. “No, stop. This is wrong.”

But he couldn’t stop. He closed his eyes and the image was embedded into his eyelids. He felt himself straining against his jeans as he imagined himself knelt behind her, looking down at her ass in the wear, wearing only a pair of lacy black underwear.

He groaned as he palmed himself through his jeans. The desire was far too strong to ignore. He had to take care of this, otherwise he knew he’d have a nasty ache between his legs that he would not be able to get rid of.

Just one time, he thought. Then I’ll never think of her like this again.

Alex unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees. His dick was hard as a rock and angry red. He hissed as the cool air touched the sensitive area. He spit on his hand and wrapped his hand around the base. His head tipped back as a moan erupted from his throat.

He closed his eyes and the image of (Y/N) appeared again. Her face buried into the pillow beneath her, moans muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Alex’s dick plunging in and out of her tight pussy, her ass bouncing every time his hips collided with it. He imagined that her moans were as pretty as her regular voice was. Picturing that pretty voice moaning his name caused his dick to twitch in his hand.

The wet sounds of his hand stroking his dick mixed with his heavy breathing and moans filled the room. His mind drifted from having her bent over in front of him to having her sat on his lap in the very chair where he was sat. He imagined (Y/N), still just in a matching lingerie set, pulling him away from his songwriting so she could climb up onto his lap and straddle him. He imagined her pulling the fabric of her panties to the side, a string of arousal connecting her needy hole and the underwear. He could almost feel the warm, wetness of her walls as she sunk herself down onto him, and her lips on his neck as she started to ride him.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “God, that feels so good.”

His desire to have her grew, even though he knew he never would. She was his best friend. There was no way she felt this way for him, too. And he definitely was not going to risk their friendship by bringing these feelings up to her. More than anything, (Y/N) was his friend and he wasn’t about to lose her all together. For now, the only way he’d have her would be in his imagination, and he was more than okay with that.

Behind his closed eyes he could see (Y/N)’s perfect tits bouncing in his face. He squeezed the base of his dick a little tighter as his jerking motions became quicker, almost more desperate. He could feel his high creeping up on him, and he was desperately trying to chase it.

In his mind, (Y/N) was leaning into his ear. In a sexy, sultry voice, he pictured her whispering, “Cum for me, Alex.”

And that was all he needed to go tumbling over the edge. He called out her name into his empty apartment as his hot cum spilled over his hand, lap, and some on his shirt. He mentally cursed to himself for not preparing more for the mess, but physically he felt incapable of fixing it. He let his head rest on the back of the chair as he breathed heavily. When he opened his eyes to finally face reality, he was looking up at the ceiling instead of at (Y/N)’s beautiful face.

There was a slight ringing in his ears as the blood flow from his brain to his dick finally went down. It was loud enough that he almost didn’t hear his phone vibrating on the desk and took him a moment to realize someone was trying to call him. He reached out with his clean hand to look at the caller ID, and his heart skipped a beat when (Y/N)’s name and face popped up on his screen.

Against his better judgement, Alex answered. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” (Y/N) asked, a joking tone in her voice. “I’ve sent you, like, five text messages.”

Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the lockscreen to see that (Y/N) had in fact tried to text him.

“Hey fucker, what are you doing?”

“Hello? Alex?”

“Quick wanking off and answer me.” (That one both made him laugh and made his heart pound harder against his chest.)

“Listen, can I come over? I wanted to talk about something.”

“I really hope the reason you’re not answering is not what I think.”

“Sorry, I was - uh - I was busy writing,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I got really into it and had my phone on silent. Didn’t even know you were texting me. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Well, I’m currently parked outside your place. Can I come in to talk about it?”

He felt his blood run cold. (Y/N) was outside his place right now trying to come in to talk to him, meanwhile he was sat at his work desk with cum over himself after jerking off to the thought of her.

This truly could not be any worse.

“Yeah! Yeah, just give me a second,” he said, quickly trying to figure out a solution to this.

“Alex, I’ve known you for years, you do not have to tidy the place up for me,” (Y/N) said.

“I know, I just need to...I just have to do something before you come in. Give me a second.”

He hung up before (Y/N) could protest any further. He quickly took off his already cum-stained shirt and used it to wipe off his hand and the area around his dick. He threw the shirt with the rest of his dirty clothes, tucked himself back into his jeans, and found a new shirt to put on. Just as he was pulling the shirt over his head, the doorbell started ringing. He quickly raced to his front door and threw it open to reveal (Y/N) stood there.

“Are you done whatever you had to do?” she asked, but pushed past him before he could answer.

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he teased as he followed her in.

“I always do,” she said with a smirk. “You’re lucky I respect your privacy enough that I didn’t just get that hidden spare key and barge in here before I called.”

Very, very lucky for that, actually.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked her as they reached his living room. “Your texts sounded serious.”

(Y/N) sighed and flopped down onto his couch. Alex sat across from her, leaving a decent amount of space between them. His mind was still reeling from the mental images from earlier that he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to be so close to (Y/N) right now.

But she seemed very troubled, which was very concerning to him. (Y/N) always talked to him when something was wrong, but very rarely did she physically come over to his place to talk about something. He knew whatever it was had to be very serious for her to show up so suddenly like this.

“I ran into Cheryl at the store just now,” she said, looking down at her lap. “And...well...I know she doesn’t like me. I’m not stupid. I know there’s a reason she doesn’t come out anymore when she knows I’m there, and our brief run ins since we first met always include a glare whenever she sees me. Don’t even try to deny it, Alex.”

He wasn’t going to, but his mouth had been open to speak. He wasn’t even sure what he would’ve said, so he closed his mouth again and allowed her to go on.

“I saw her and decided just to try and avoid her. I expected her to do the same. There was really no reason for her to approach me when it was just her, so I thought. But she came right up to me in the middle of an aisle and she...well, the best way to describe it is she went off on a tirade about not liking me and how she wishes you would just stop being friends with me, and even told me that I should be the one to end our friendship so that she didn’t have to stress about me and you anymore.”

Alex’s hands balled into fists on his lap. He couldn’t believe Cheryl would really go up to (Y/N) like that when he wasn’t around. Like (Y/N), he figured that Cheryl would’ve just walked the other way and left her alone since she disliked her so much. But to go up to his best friend in a public and to go as far as telling her to stop being friends with him for the sake of a relationship that wasn’t even a month in was further than he ever expected her to go.

“I thought you weren’t responding because she got to you first,” (Y/N) continued. “I thought she was going to come to you with some made up bullshit saying that I was the one who attacked her or something.”

“I haven’t heard from her,” Alex said. “I guess she’s waiting till whenever I see her next.”

“Listen, I’m sorry that I’m causing this strain on your relationship - ”

Alex reached out to take (Y/N)’s hand to cut her off. The contact sent a spark through him, but he tried his best to ignore it.

“You’re not the one causing any strain to my relationship. Cheryl is. She’s the one who is feeling so insecure about our relationship that she has to go as far as calling you down to the dirt while I’m not around. I’ve tried everything to assure her there’s nothing to worry about between us, but it’s not enough for her. I think...I don’t think I can continue this relationship with her. Especially not after what you told me.”

(Y/N) looked down at their joined hands. In a soft voice she said, “She’s a fucking bitch.”

Alex smiled and chuckled softly. (Y/N) did as well, and eventually, they were both laughing at her comment.

When the laughter died down silence fell over them. Neither one of them knew how to break it, but they didn’t really feel like they had to. Silence always felt comfortable between the two of them. They never felt like they had to speak if they didn’t want to. They could just sit like this for hours and it would be fine.

But their hands were still joined together. (Y/N) was tracing circles in the back of his hand with her thumb, almost absentmindedly. He liked the feeling of her hand against his. He never wanted to let go of her.

“You said you were writing when I came?” she finally asked, looking up at him. “Anything good?”

“Oh, um, I think so? I haven’t really put it together properly. It’s just a couple verses and a chorus that I have to finish.”

“Can I hear it? Or see what you have written, at least?”

His face burned at the question. He knew he was definitely blushing by the way that a confused look creeped on (Y/N)’s face. How did he show her this song, which was clearly about her and included a line about wanting to fuck her, and not absolutely ruin their friendship in this moment?

“I-I guess, if-if you wanted to,” he stuttered. “But, um...it’s...it’s a little embarrassing because...well, you were my muse for it.”

Her face seemed to brighten. “Really? You were writing about me?”

“Yeah. There’s some lyrics...well, you’d know it was about you the song is released so I guess there’s no getting around it, there’s some lyrics that are a bit...more than friendly.”

And there it was. There was no taking it back.

He watched her face, trying to gauge what her reaction to that revelation would be. She was just looking at him for a moment, as if registering his words, before a smirk crept across her face.

“Then show me,” she told him, her voice low and sultry the exact same way it had been in his imagination.

And Alex swore he had never been more excited than in that moment.

[urrockstar-xe]

baby blanket - j.m x fem!reader

posted may 10th, 2023 10:07 am

this is completely based on my actual real life baby blankets, enjoy. also it looks like they're looking directly at me in this gif and that scares me. - xx

masterlist

wordcount: 0.6k

s/o to pals for helping with the song choice :))

You felt the end of your bed dip as JJ flopped down onto it, immediately going to grab the small baby pink blanket away from you. You smiled, watching him mindlessly run the silky ends through his fingers over and over while he argued over something pointless with Kie. 

John B cut the arguing short when he noticed the blanket on JJ’s chest. “What is that?” 

Before you could answer his question, Sarah did it for you, “it’s one of her baby blankets,” her knowledge of this didn’t come as a surprise to any of you as she had spent a lot of time in your room over the last year. “No way that’s your baby blanket,” Pope said, standing from his spot at your desk and nearly snatching it away from jj, “Hey!” Pope ignored jj, examining the 16+ year old blanket. 

“Mine is in shreds, how the hell does yours look like this?” you shrugged in response, pulling another baby blanket off of one of your pillows, it looked the exact same as the pink one, just white. 

“What the fuck there's two?” Jj sat up as if he had just found out he got accepted into fucking Hogwarts. You laughed. “You never noticed it on my pillow? The one you are always sleeping on?” 

Jj took it from you, “well that would explain why it's so much softer than the other pillows.” 

“Oh she has two so you cheated the system!” Kie said in a teasing tone, a smile sitting on her lips. 

“Nuh-uh! I will not sit for these false allegations!” you stood up from your bed taking the pink blanket away from Pope, “My favorite was always the pink one, I honestly didn’t even know I had the white one ‘til I was like 9.” 

“How is it still in perfect condition then huh?” John B smirked at you, a sign of him simply giving you shit. “Guess I'm just like, better than all of you.” you shrugged, earning a laugh from the girls and scoffs and “pft”s from the boys. “And it’s not in perfect condition, the edges are a little frayed, but genuinely I have no idea how it’s still in such good condition,” 

Cleo smiled before speaking, “The baby blanket gods must love you,” 

You laughed sitting back down in your spot, allowing jj to use your lap as his very own pillow, still holding onto the white baby blanket. 

“I never had a baby blanket,” he said, 

“Really?” Sarah asked, astonished at this noise, even jb had one at some point.

It didn’t shock you that JJ never had one, knowing who raised him. “You can have that one,” your words shocked him, his reaction earning laughs and giggles from every one of your friends. “Really? You mean that?” his eyes were wide and his mouth was just slightly agape. 

“Course, j. I’d offer my pink one but that one’s kinda my favorite,” you smiled, watching as he settled back into place and just admired the small blanket. 

“It also says ‘thank heaven for little girls’ on it and it’d be a little weird for you to own something that says that” Pope pointed out, making his way back to your desk chair. 

“It’s a little weird for anyone to own something that says that,” John B responded, causing an incredibly stupid argument to break out between your friend group, but all you could focus on was how soft jj got at such a small thing, how he was already playing with the ends the way he did your fingers whenever you’d hold hands. 

JJ looked up at you once more, “You’re really lettin’ me keep this, baby?” you just nodded in response, playing with his hair. JJ smiled, looking back at the blanket.

“Thank you,”