#fake concern for a baby
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f0point5 · 26 days ago
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People saying they feel bad for Max and Kelly’s baby like the parasocial disappointment that this man didn’t pick them to procreate with is eating them alive
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pizzabox-box · 3 months ago
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I'm just...going to put this creature here...This critter has been living in my head rent free for the past few days.
Hilarious little guy, I love him. Maybe one day you will get more context behind this tadpole looking thing :D
ok nevermind u guys are getting some context right now lol
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thosesillylittlegayghosts · 10 months ago
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Rewatching young royals in preparation for Monday and 100% overanalysing Erik’s looks and actions
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meangan-thee-lesbian · 2 years ago
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Idc who this upsets, but I actually hated the whole forced mask wearing era with a burning passion. As someone with epilepsy which is aggravated by heat, it was absolute hell to have to wear that shit because (and fuck what y’all abled-bodies wanna say) it DOES impact my breathing and make me overheat. And I actually cannot just ‘go get a medical exemption’ because a) they don’t give that shit out like free candy, I had to go pay $500 to a neurologist to get that lil note, and b) I could staple that med cert to my fucking forehead and still get people losing their minds every time I went anywhere without a mask. Everyone like ‘oh disabled people are so terrified of COVID-19 so you should think of them before ragging on masks like this’ as though everyone ain’t already spent the last three decades of my life not giving a singular shit about my disability, but now suddenly want to act like they care about disabled people? Why tf should I care about giving anyone the spicy cough when no one has ever given a fuck how many seizures their actions cause me? Y’all want me to put my own health at risk by wearing this mask, so you don’t get a lil sore throat, when y’all will remain deliberately oblivious to epilepsy and other heat-related illnesses, right up until someone dies, and then you’ll still have a giggle about that too? Way more people be dying every day from heat-related illnesses than from COVID-19, so where’s my mandatory air-conditioning and icepack stations at every street corner? Fuck hand sanitizer stations, provide me a free cold drink. Additionally, mask wearing was the ONLY thing people got this fucking turnt about too. It’s not like any of y’all were social distancing (something which would have actually helped me with my disability lmao). No one was getting booted out of stores for standing on my damn heels every time I had to get in a queue. Anyway, after the first twenty times I got asked to leave a store for not wearing a mask (despite having that magical medical certificate) I made up my own mask by getting four of those ‘valves’, absolutely gutting the inside of them to allow unrestricted airflow, and then stitching them into a linen mask. Still uncomfortable, fo sure, but a lot better than having to deal with hot air on my face and under my sunglasses while already struggling not to pass out in the middle of the Australian summer. 
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radioactive-cloud · 2 months ago
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i got used to drone attacks that happen every night for around three months but that and a first huge missile attack in a long time? wow such a change of routine
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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago
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a love song for lady earth | s.r.
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in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.
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“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.
Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”
Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”
His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”
“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”
Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”
You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”
“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.
Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”
“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.
Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”
He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”
You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”
“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.
Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”
Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”
“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.
Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”
Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.
“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.
Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.
He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.
There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.
A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.
“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.
You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.
His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”
Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.
He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.
“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.
Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.
Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”
Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.
Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.
“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.
He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.
At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”
He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.
“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.
Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.
The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.
“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.
Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”
He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”
Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”
Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.
His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.
“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”
You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”
He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.
A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.
Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.
His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.
He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.
You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.
“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”
You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”
Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.
“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.
He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”
You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.
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lizziesangel · 30 days ago
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RAFE CAMERON - that’s so true
x HIGH MAINTENANCE! KOOK !FEM!reader - MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: you're insecure about your relationship with rafe, when he gets closer with sofia
WORD COUNT: +5.2k
GENRE: ANGST to fluff
CONTENT WARNING: /
listen to 'that's so true' from gracie abrams for better experience <3.
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‘i could go and read your mind
think about your dumb face all the time
living in your glass house, i’m outside, uh’
the late afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of tannyhill’s living room, casting a golden glow on the sprawling estate. you sat cross-legged on the plush cream couch, scrolling through your phone with one hand while idly tugging at the hem of your baby pink knit sweater with the other. notifications of luxury sales popped up intermittently, but your heart wasn’t in it today. instead, your mind was somewhere else. more accurately, on someone else.
across the room, rafe cameron leaned casually against the kitchen island, deep in conversation with sofia. the sound of her laugh—the kind that wasn’t too loud, not too fake—floated over, making your stomach twist.
sofia wasn’t your idea of a kook, not the kind who frequented boutiques or spent hours curating their aesthetic. her laid-back charm was effortless, her simple jeans and oversized hoodie a stark contrast to the tailored mini-skirt you had on. she didn’t even wear jewelry. yet, here she was, drawing rafe in with that natural ease, her hair in a messy braid like she didn’t care, and maybe she didn’t.
you hated how it made you feel. jealous. small. stupid.
“she’s kind,” you had said casually a week ago, after introducing him to her at a party. “quiet and smart girl. we grew up together.”
kind. quiet. the opposite of you.
rafe laughed at something she said, his face lighting up with that rare, genuine smile that made your chest ache. he looked at sofia like she reminded him of simpler times, back when life wasn’t all country club politics and family business drama. you tried to shove the feeling down, but it clawed its way back up, leaving you restless.
were you too much? the bi-weekly nail appointments, the balayage touch-ups every few months, the shopping sprees that felt more like therapy—was that what made you wrong for rafe? you’d caught a glimpse of sofia’s chipped nail polish earlier, and it was the type of thing rafe would probably call “charming.”
the thought was a jagged knife, twisting in your gut.
“babe, you good?” rafe’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts.
you looked up, startled, realizing he was staring at you now, his brows furrowed in mild concern. sofia was gone—when had she left?—and it was just you and rafe in the quiet hum of the room.
“yeah,” you lied, pasting on a smile. “just tired.”
“you sure?” he came closer, towering over you with his familiar scent of cologne and something distinctly rafe. his rough hand brushed your knee, a touch that was meant to reassure but only made you feel more exposed.
you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “positive.”
he didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. you let yourself sink into him, resting your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his body should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you of how far away you felt.
outside, the sun was setting, its rays casting shadows through the glass windows. you thought about sofia, imagined her in her car with the windows down, humming along to the radio, not worrying about being enough for anyone. and then you thought about yourself—polished, perfect, but perpetually on the outside, peering into rafe’s world, a world where you never felt like you truly fit.
rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“of course,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t true.
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‘looking into big blue eyes
did it just to hurt me and make me cry
smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life’
the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you sat on the edge of the beach blanket, digging your manicured nails into the soft fabric. rafe and sofia were waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as the current pushed them around. she squealed when a wave hit her back, and rafe threw his head back in laughter, that easy, carefree laugh you loved so much.
but it wasn’t directed at you.
“you’re not going in?” sarah asked, plopping down next to you with her iced tea in hand. she stretched her legs out, glancing at you sideways.
“not really feeling it,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you smoothed the hem of your sundress. you didn’t trust yourself to look at the water again, not with how raw you were already feeling.
sofia’s voice cut through the air. “rafe! stop!” she shrieked, laughing as he splashed her with water. they looked like a scene out of some beachy rom-com—his strong frame towering over her, her golden-brown hair clinging to her neck as she playfully shoved him.
sarah gave you a look, one you didn’t need right now.
“what?” you asked, feigning confusion.
“don’t what me. you’re sitting here stewing when you should just talk to him.”
“there’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly. too quickly.
sarah sighed. “you’ve been weird ever since sofia came back from europe. she’s your best friend. rafe’s your boyfriend. you need to chill.”
“yeah, i know that,” you snapped, guilt immediately twisting in your stomach. sarah wasn’t wrong, but the truth was too tangled for you to admit out loud.
you turned your head to steal another glance at them. sofia threw her head back in a laugh, her face turned toward the setting sun, water glistening off her skin like she was straight out of a magazine spread. and rafe, with his piercing blue eyes, couldn’t seem to look away from her.
your chest felt tight. you wanted to believe his gaze was harmless, that it was just the kind of attention sofia naturally drew wherever she went. but some dark, irrational part of you whispered that it wasn’t—that rafe was looking at sofia the way you wished he always looked at you.
they started heading back toward the beach, their laughter fading into the sound of the waves. you quickly fixed your expression, schooling it into something neutral, something practiced.
“hey!” sofia grinned as she plopped down next to you, wringing water out of her hair. “you missed out. the waves were amazing.”
“yeah, i just got my hair done,” you smiled lightly, ignoring the pang in your chest.
“your loss,” rafe said as he dropped beside you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.
you leaned into him, smiling like you always did. sofia leaned over to pull a drink out of the cooler, and your gaze flicked between her and rafe, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes lingering on her for just a second too long.
your heart sank. but you didn’t say anything.
instead, you smiled wider, locking it all away like you always did. this was your life, wasn’t it? loving rafe. loving sofia. watching them shine brighter than you ever could while you tried not to let the cracks show.
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‘you’re an idiot, now i’m sure
now i’m positive, i should go and warn her’
the door to rafe’s room slammed shut behind you, the echo reverberating in your chest as you stood there, arms crossed, staring him down. the tension in the air was thick, neither of you willing to break the silence first.
it had started small, like these things always did. a casual question from rafe about why you’d been quiet lately, his concern laced with impatience when you deflected for the third time that day.
“you don’t even let me pay for anything anymore,” rafe said, his tone edged with irritation. “when was the last time you asked me to cover your nails, or your hair, or whatever? that’s what i’m here for.”
your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “i don’t need your money, rafe. i have my own.”
“that’s not the point,” he shot back, stepping closer. “it’s what i do. i’ve always done it. why are you shutting me out like this?”
“i’m not shutting you out,” you argued, your voice rising slightly. “i just don’t see why you have to make it a big deal every time i don’t ask you for something. maybe i don’t want to depend on you for every little thing.”
“that’s not what this is about, and you know it,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. “you’ve been different, and now you’re acting like this is all on me?”
“i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you’d said, your voice sharper than you intended.
“that’s all you ever say now,” he shot back, raking a hand through his hair. “you’ve been acting weird for weeks, and i’m just supposed to ignore it?”
“i’m fine, rafe,” you insisted, even though you weren’t. not even close.
he let out a humorless laugh, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, for someone who talks as much as you, you sure don’t know how to open up when it matters.”
the words stung, more than you wanted to admit. you hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he could take your worst fear—being too much and not enough at the same time—and throw it in your face without even realizing it.
“i’m going out,” you said abruptly, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.
“of course you are,” he muttered, not stopping you.
now, walking briskly through the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the shopping center, you tried to push the fight out of your mind. Retail therapy had always been your escape, and today was no different. the rhythmic click of your heels on the polished floor, the weight of designer bags in your hand—it was comforting, a distraction.
you turned into a high-end boutique, your favorite. the scent of expensive leather and vanilla greeted you, and you lost yourself in the rows of clothes, running your fingers over silky fabrics and embroidered details. you could almost forget the tightness in your chest, the ache that rafe’s words had left behind.
almost.
and then you saw her. sofia.
she was standing by the display of bags near the entrance, her back to you. she looked effortless as always, her hair falling in soft waves, her casual outfit perfectly understated. she was laughing softly at something the sales associate had said, the kind of laugh that seemed to echo in your mind even when she wasn’t there.
your heart twisted.
you thought about the fight with rafe, about how you’d stormed out without looking back. you thought about sofia, about how easy it was for her to exist in the same spaces you had to fight to belong in. and for a fleeting, bitter moment, you wondered if rafe would’ve preferred having her there instead of you.
she hadn’t seen you yet. you could walk over, say hi, pretend everything was fine like you always did. or you could keep going, let the distance grow a little wider.
you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned on your heel, walking past the boutique’s floor-length windows without sparing her a glance.
your phone buzzed in your hand as you entered a store. a text from rafe.
r :3
we need to talk when you get home.
your stomach churned, but you didn’t reply. not yet. you couldn’t face him, not like this. not when you were still reeling from the fight and the sight of sofia, from the gnawing feeling that you didn’t know who you were mad at anymore—sofia, rafe, or yourself.
another buzz.
r :3
i sent you $100. get something you want.
a bitter laugh escaped your lips. was this his way of apologizing, or trying to prove a point?
you slipped your phone into your purse, plastering on a smile for the cashier as you handed over your credit card. this was your life, wasn’t it? smiling through it all, even when you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up.
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‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool
kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room
wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’
the steady hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in your room as you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. the screen lit up with a new message from sofia.
s<3
hey, i was thinking we should all hang out at tannyhill tonight. you, me, sarah—just a chill night. what do you think?
you bit your lip, hesitating. it had been a long day of avoiding rafe and thinking about him and sofia, about their chemistry that felt so effortless. you and sofia had been best friends for years, but lately, every time she invited you to hang out, it felt like something was missing, like the space between you two had grown wider.
but still… you couldn't shake the feeling that if you went, you’d just be putting on a show, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. you didn’t even know what to say to her anymore, let alone to sarah. the thought of sitting around with them, pretending to have a good time, when your mind kept drifting back to the fight with rafe—it felt exhausting.
you typed out a response, your fingers heavy on the keys.
not tonight. don't feel good. rain check?
you stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. rain check. you were avoiding them. you were avoiding everyone
you hit send.
the moment the message left your screen, you shoved your phone into the bedside drawer and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room suffocating. you closed your eyes, but even in the dark, your mind couldn’t stop spinning.
you imagined rafe at tannyhill with sofia and sarah. maybe they were all hanging out by the pool, laughing at some stupid joke sofia made, her hand casually brushing against rafe’s as they both leaned in to listen to sarah’s gossip. maybe rafe had his arm around sofia’s shoulders, that easy smile of his lighting up his face.
maybe rafe didn’t even notice how he was looking at her. maybe sofia didn’t even know how much it bothered you. but in your mind, it didn’t matter. they were perfect for each other in a way that you didn’t think you could ever be.
a dull ache spread through your chest, and your mind kept playing out the scene—rafe leaning in, talking to sofia in that easy, intimate way that made you feel invisible, like you didn’t even exist in the same world.
the thought hit you hard, almost like a punch to the gut. you’d seen them before, seen that look in his eyes when he wasn’t thinking about it, when it was so effortless. you had been there too. you had been the one sitting on the outside, watching the two of them, wondering if it was just in your head or if rafe truly felt something for sofia.
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the images from your mind. but the more you tried to push them away, the clearer they became. you could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance, and it felt like you were drowning in it, unable to catch your breath.
you didn’t know when it had become like this, when everything had started to feel like a competition you weren’t even aware you were part of.
you heard your phone buzz from inside the drawer, pulling you from your thoughts.
a from rafe.
r :3
where are you?
you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button. what could you even say? that you were imagining him and sofia at tannyhill, laughing without a care? that you were afraid of losing him to someone like her?
you didn’t reply. instead, you slid your phone back into the drawer, pulled the covers over your head, and tried to forget everything for a little while longer.
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‘what’d she do to get you off? (uh-huh)
taking down her hair like, “Oh my God!”
taking off your shirt, i did that once, or twice, uh’
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‘no, i know, i know, fuck off (off)
but i think i like her, she’s so fun
wait, i think i hate her, i’m not that evolved’
the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the beach as you sat down on the sand, the familiar saltwater breeze blowing through your hair. kiara plopped down beside you, her sneakers kicking up a cloud of sand as she settled in, her brow furrowed in that way she did when she knew something was off.
“okay, seriously, what’s going on with you and rafe?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct.
you sighed, dropping your gaze to the sand between your feet. “what do you mean?”
kiara’s eyes softened with concern. “i haven’t seen you two together in forever. and you’ve been off, too. something’s not right.”
you let out a breath, staring at the horizon. “i don’t know, Kie. it’s... complicated.”
kiara raised an eyebrow. “complicated? that’s the word you use after dating for what—how long? over two years now?”
“yeah, well, that’s the thing,” you muttered, biting your lip. “it’s just been—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know. lately, it feels like rafe doesn’t even notice me. like, i’m always there, but not really there, you know?”
kiara tilted her head, studying you with concern. “what do you mean, not really there? he’s not paying attention to you?”
oyu shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “no, it’s like... he’s distant. he’s always been this way with me, but recently, it feels like it’s worse. like he’s more into sofia, or just... not into me, i guess. we’ve been fighting a lot.”
kiara was quiet for a moment, looking out at the waves. “okay, so, this has to do with sofia, doesn’t it?”
you let out a dry laugh, your gaze falling to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “yeah. yeah, it does.”
kie glanced at you sharply, her eyes narrowing. “you’ve always been close with sofia, right? she’s your best friend.”
“i know,” you replied, almost too quickly. “i love sofia, so much. she’s my best friend. i should be happy for her, right? but—” you stopped yourself, the words forming before you could stop them. “but, something i think... i just hate her, too.”
kiara’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“you’re not crazy for feeling this way. but don’t let it eat you alive. don’t let it destroy your relationship. if rafe’s the one, you need to talk to him about it. you need to tell him how you’re feeling, because keeping it all inside isn’t doing anyone any favors, especially not you.”
you took a shaky breath, feeling like there was more you needed to say, but didn’t have the words for. kiara was right, of course. you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it was falling apart, but how could you explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside you? how could you put into words the way you felt about sofia—how much you loved her, and at the same time, how much you resented her for just being everything you weren’t?
“you’re right,” you finally muttered, still not fully convinced. “i just don’t know if i can handle it. what if i tell him and it just makes things worse?”
she gave you a knowing look. “you’ll never know until you try.”
you looked out over the horizon, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the ground. you didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep living in this limbo, hating the things you couldn’t change, and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. you needed to figure it out, for your own sake.
“thanks, kie,” you whispered, leaning back in your chair, the weight of your emotions still heavy, but just a little bit lighter now that you’d said it out loud.
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‘i’m sorry she’s missing it, sad, sad boy
not my business, but i had to warn ya’
‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool
kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room
wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’
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oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool (ooh)
but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude
ooh, that’s so true, ooh’
you had barely finished talking with kiara when your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back to the screen. it was sofia.
hey, i just wanted to check in. are you mad at me? i feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately…
you froze, your heart tightening. it had been a few days since you’d distanced yourself from her, but you hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say. you didn’t want to hurt sofia, but you didn’t know how to explain the mess inside your head.
after a few moments, you typed out a response, trying to keep it as light as possible.
i’m not mad at you, sof. just been dealing with some stuff. it’s not about you.
you hit send, watching the little bubbles appear as she started typing. but just before her reply came through, another text popped up. rafe.
hey, i just want to clear something up. sofia’s crying in Sarah’s room. she’s upset about something you said.
your stomach churned. you quickly opened the message.
i don’t know what exactly, but you’re wrong about what you said. she hasn’t done anything to you, and i think you need to talk to her. this is getting out of hand.
you sat there, staring at the message, feeling a mixture of guilt and confusion. what did rafe mean by that? what had you said that upset sofia? your mind raced, trying to piece things together, but all you could think about was the way he’d worded it—like you were the one who was in the wrong, like your feelings didn’t matter.
the weight of the words hung in the air, pressing down on you as you tried to make sense of everything.
sofia’s upset? you thought, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. it wasn’t your intention to hurt her, not at all. but you couldn’t deny the feelings of frustration and jealousy that had been building up. you had felt pushed to the side, like you were being replaced by someone who was just… so much easier, so much cooler than you ever seemed to be.
why does she get everything so effortlessly? you wondered bitterly, remembering the way she seemed to shine so naturally in rafe’s world, her presence so casual, so unaffected. it only made your insecurities grow, but now it felt like you were the one in the wrong.
the next message from sofia finally came through.
i just don’t want to lose you as a friend. if something’s going on, i want to talk about it.
your heart dropped as you read it. you could feel the sincerity in her words, but also the pain. you couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset, especially when it was your fault. you’d always loved sofia, but this weird, twisted feeling you had—of hating her and wanting to be like her at the same time—wasn’t something you had ever known how to deal with.
a deep breath.
you thought about rafe’s message. about how he’d said you were wrong. he was always so quick to take sofia’s side, so quick to defend her, like you were the one in the wrong, even when you were just… trying to figure everything out.
you typed slowly, your fingers reluctant, still caught in the confusion.
i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. i guess i’ve just been feeling a little off lately. things with rafe aren’t exactly… great right now.
you paused, rereading the words before hitting send, feeling vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in a long time.
not even a minute later, rafe’s name appeared on your screen again. this time, the message was short and to the point.
you need to talk to her, y/n. you’re blowing this out of proportion. just let it go and fix this shit.
the sting of his words hit harder than you expected. you clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to reply with something sharp. it wasn’t that you wanted to push him away—it was that you had no idea how to make him understand how this all made you feel.
you were getting lost in the frustration, in the feeling that no one really saw you, no one really understood where you were coming from.
but you knew you had to do something.
i’ll talk to her, you replied, the words feeling hollow. you didn’t know what you could say that would make everything right, but you knew you had to try.
you sat back against your pillow, staring at the screen, your mind racing. you thought about rafe, about sofia, about everything.
but you couldn’t let that be the end of it. not yet. you had to try. you had to fix it.
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‘made it out alive, but i think i lost it.
said that i was fine, said it from the coffin.
remember how i died when you started walkin’?
that’s my life, that’s my life.’
the air was thick with tension as you stood in the living room with sofia and rafe, both of them waiting for you to say something, anything, that would explain the silence that had been hanging between you all for the past few days.
you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding inside. “i just, need to talk,” you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended, but it was enough to make them both focus on you.
sofia was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern. rafe was leaning against the wall, arms folded too, his usual laid-back demeanor slightly tense.
“i know i’ve been distant lately, and i’ve been avoiding both of you, but it’s because of how i’ve been feeling… and i need you both to know that this is about me, not you.”
sofia raised an eyebrow, glancing at rafe before turning back to you. “what do you mean?”
you took a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as you let them spill out. “i’ve been feeling... insecure. i know it’s stupid, but when i see the way you two get along, it just—it gets to me. you and rafe, you make everything look so easy. and i feel like i have to work so much harder, just to keep his attention, just to feel like I’m enough.”
there was a long, heavy pause. rafe finally spoke, his voice gentle, his expression softening. “you’re wrong, though. i’m with you because i want to be with you. sofia and i are friends, nothing more. but you're the one i want.” he stepped forward, looking at you with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in a while. “i shouldn’t have let you feel that way. i’m sorry.”
sofia looked at you with wide, understanding eyes, her lips turning into a soft smile. “look, n/n, it took me forever to even get to a point where i could be okay with hanging out with him. no offense to you, rafe, but i didn’t want to mess things up for you because i didn't like him. i didn’t want you to think i was trying to steal him away from you. i thought if i could just get along with him, that it would make you feel better .i did it for you, because i thought that’s what you needed.”
your eyes softened, and you took a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of the situation lifting just a little. “i didn’t know that,” you whispered. “i thought... i thought maybe you two were just, i don’t know, better together. you’re both so effortless, and i feel like i’m always trying too hard to be perfect.”
sofia’s face softened as she stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. “you don’t need to be perfect. you’re perfect just the way you are.” she pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want you to ever think i’m a threat to you, okay? you’re my best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”
rafe, who had been watching quietly, took a deep breath, stepping forward to join you both. he reached out, pulling you into a hug as well, his voice low but sincere. “and i’m not going anywhere, babe. you’re the one for me. i’m not interested in anyone else, and i should’ve made that clearer before.”
oyu closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a rush of relief, a weight finally lifting off your shoulders. “i’m sorry, both of you,” you whispered. “i should’ve talked about this sooner instead of letting it fester.”
sofia laughed softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “we’re good, okay? we’re all good now.��
you pulled back from her, still feeling the relief in your chest. “we’re good,” you echoed, smiling at her through your own tears.
there was a long moment of silence, and then rafe cleared his throat, awkwardly stepping back. “okay, okay, this is getting a little too emotional for me,” he said with a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “can we get back to the part where we all pretend we don’t have feelings?”
you both chuckled, wiping at your eyes and trying to stifle your laughter. you grinned at him. “aw, come on, don’t be so awkward about it. you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.”
“yeah, yeah, alright,” rafe muttered, looking between the two of you. “but seriously, if you two are done crying, y/n, i think you should get those nails done. they’re looking a little... tacky.” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your nails. “i know, right? they’ve been a disaster for weeks.”
sofia laughed, nodding. “let’s go get your nails done. it’ll be a perfect excuse to hang out together, and you can stop obsessing over whatever weird thoughts you’ve been having.”
you turned to rafe, your smile growing wider. “you know what? you’re right. they’re awful.” you made a dramatic gesture at your nails. “i need a new look.”
rafe smirked, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “i’ll pay for it,” he said casually, glancing at the wall. “go on, get whatever you want. i don’t care.”
you stared at him in surprise. “really?”
he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “yeah, why not? you deserve it. and i’ll do whatever makes you happy, okay?”
sofia looked at you, her grin widening. “see? even rafe knows you deserve a little treat.”
you shook your head, laughing softly. “alright, fine. let’s go. but only because i need a distraction from all the feelings today.”
the three of you made your way to the door, but before you stepped out, you turned to sofia, pulling her into another hug. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”
she squeezed you tight. “always. now, let’s get you those nails, and then i want to hear about everything.”
as you all walked out the door together, rafe following behind you, you couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had finally been lifted. things weren’t perfect, but they were real. and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.
“alright, alright,” rafe said, his voice teasing as he slapped his hands together. “let’s get this nail thing over with. and don’t get any too crazy designs.”
you laughed, leaning into sofia as you all walked down the street.
“promise,” you said, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.
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‘i’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings
don’t you know the vibe?
don’t you know the feeling?
‘you should spend the night,
catch me on your ceiling
that’s your prize, that’s your prize’
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‘oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool
but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude,
ooh, that’s so true, ooh, ooh, uh’
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2K notes · View notes
sanemistar · 2 months ago
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i won’t let you go — satoru gojo
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contains ★ satoru x gn!reader, established relationship, angst to fluff, petnames (baby, love, babe, etc.), 1k wc. ノ requested for my milestone event.
event m.list ★ jjk m.list
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ever since you and satoru have started dating, you heard a lot of gossip and side talks from people around you about how he's never been faithful to any of his past lovers, how he lets them go after less than six months, saying that he no longer finds them interesting, that he's done being with them, how he's never truly loved and probably never will be able to love anyone. that he's a selfish man who's nothing but a player who toys with people's hearts then tosses them away when it's all over. and you’re no exception, as it’s only a matter of time before you meet the same fate as them.
he'll let you go and forget about you as if you two have never met, because satoru gojo is incapable of loving anyone.
however, you pay no attention to these words. and even if what they say is true, you still refuse to believe that it's anything but mere nonsense. and decide to fully trust satoru like you always do.
because the satoru you know and love, the man you're dating right now, your loving boyfriend, is deeply and madly in love with you. the way he kisses you ever so passionately, how he whispers the sweetest of love words to you all the time, and how he holds you in his arms tightly every night as you doze off to sleep listening to his heartbeat. no way he's leaving you, is it? you're certain of that. after all, he's promised that he'll always love you, that he'll never leave your side no matter what, that he'll never let you be alone without him. because he can't live without you.
he finds comfort in you, you're his home as he claims. and you feel the same way about him, you can't live without him either.
although, you try your best to brush these thoughts off. you can't help but wonder if it's true that he'll let you go the same way he did with the ones before you, that he'll break all these promises about being together forever.
unaware, you let these thoughts consume you as you slowly drown in sorrow.
your head starts spinning as you begin imagining the moment he breaks it down for you that he's leaving, that he no longer wants to be with you, that he's done with you. and your stomach is instantly clenched in a knot. you feel a painful pang in your heart as it gets heavier and heavier by the second.
just when you’re about to get completely lost in your thoughts, you feel a soft touch on your shoulder. you turn around and it’s none other than satoru. he cheekily smiles at you, but his cheerful expression quickly changes into a concerned, panicked one the second you start crying.
“…toru.” you sniffle as you start sobbing uncontrollably, hot tears begin to overflow out of your now red eyes like how water flows from an overfilled cup. he rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb caresses your skin delicately as he leans in. he presses feather like kisses on your face and eyes, gently kissing your salty tears away.
“why’s my baby cryin’? what’s wrong, love?” he questions, his tone is a mix of tenderness and concern. a worried look is shown in his ocean blue eyes, it pains him tremendously seeing your teary eyes and sad face, he simply can’t stand it.
you blink, eyelashes wet from crying so much. and you pause momentarily, hesitant to let the words come out of your mouth.
“i just… thought about you possibly.. leaving me alone and..” you utter in between your sniffles, lips slightly twitching. satoru doesn’t let you continue and cuts you off mid sentence.
what you don’t know is, satoru needs you far more than you need him. you're the only one who loves him for who he is as just an ordinary human and not the strongest, you allow him to be himself freely without any restrictions, he doesn't have to fake anything around you. and most importantly, you’re the one who’s introduced him to love, you’ve shown him what it’s like to truly love someone. so leaving you has never been an option to him. the thought has never crossed his mind, not even once.
"babe listen, ‘kay?” he speaks tenderly as he rests his other hand on your cheek, cupping your face in his big hands as he brings you closer to him. eyes pierced on one another, locked in an unwavering gaze, as if you're staring into one another's soul.
“no way i’m leavin’ you, not now, not ever. so don't think about that anymore, 'kay? we’re stuck together for life." he reassures you, the tone of his voice is so soft and sweet, yet affirmative and serious. he then slightly brushes his nose against yours and it tickles you a little before his hands let go of your face, only to pull you in his arms instead. your eyes widen for a split second before you rest your head gently against his broad, well toned chest. your hands grip the back of his shirt tightly, holding onto him for dear life as you steady yourself listening to his calming heartbeat. his slender fingers delicately run through your hair while pressing a series of quick, loving pecks on the top of your head.
he smiles the moment he feels you relax in his embrace. to satoru, you being in his arms as he feels your warmth against his skin is everything he’s ever needed. as long as you’re here with him, that’s more than enough for him, he doesn’t need anything or anyone else.
“i won’t let you go.” he whispers ever so softly against your ear, his voice rings in your ears like a sweet melody. and you hum quietly, smiling against his chest as your eyes slowly shut in relief. you let yourself trust him once more as his earnest words wash over the little doubts that have been there.
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𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @stunies @itoshivy @hanaeriin @spkyssn @17020 @kalsplace
1K notes · View notes
whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago
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Juno - JJ Maybank
(one-shot, boyfriend!jj x reader, 4.1k words)
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summary: You've built a beautiful little life with JJ, but his wild past and your trust issues keep you guarded. When a storm hits the island, you gain the perspective you need to take the next step.
content: fluff/smut, mentions of drinking and smoking. 18+ minors do not interact
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When you met JJ, he was wild. Smoking, drinking, surfing - it was all he knew. You were new to the island and attending your first party at the Boneyard when he saw you standing by the keg, laughing with some friends, and his world turned upside down.
From that day on, he asked you out every time he saw you, relentlessly flirting with you. But you had heard about his reputation before your boxes were even unpacked, and you were far too cautious of a person to jump into something with someone like him quickly.
“You don’t give up, do you, Maybank?” You asked him about a year in, after he begged you to leave a party with him for the hundredth time.
“Usually I do, actually,” he leaned in so you could feel his warm breath against your lips, your heart rate spiking. “Just never wanted anything this bad.”
After that night, he had you. When you were a little older and out of school, and after months of begging from JJ, you moved in with him. You rented a little house on The Cut together, it wasn’t anything impressive, falling apart inside and outside, but with you waitressing and him working hourly for a landscaping service, it was all you could afford.
You had never been so anxious about anything as you were to move in with JJ. Your own parents were a disaster, your dad leaving before you could walk, and you grew up watching your mother’s revolving door of deadbeat men disappoint her over and over. Even though you knew JJ was infinitely better than even the best of those men, you had trust issues you couldn’t shake. You didn’t tell JJ about your concerns, not wanting him to take them personally, but he noticed the way you’d toss and turn in your shared bed, twisting your hair in your fingers with worry. 
He swore to himself he’d never let you down the way those other men did. He worked his way up at the landscaping business until he was a manager. Eventually, after giving up partying so you could both pick up a few extra shifts, you had made enough combined to put a deposit down and buy the house you shared. You both picked up second jobs at the Island Club, you’d bartend while he parked cars. When you got home each night, you’d pool your tips, counting them before adding them to the glass jar labeled “Dream House.” On the rare occasion you both had a day off, you’d sit in a lawn chair and keep him company while he fixed the roof, or lay on the bathroom floor while he installed the big claw-foot tub you’d wanted since you were a little girl. Bit by bit, he turned what you loving called The Shitshack into your Dream House.
Even though you were both exhausted at the end of every day, you always made time for each other. You’d split a $5 bottle of wine while playing Uno on the living room floor. Or you’d cook his favorite meals for him while he sat at the counter, your dutiful taste tester. After particularly rough shifts, you’d take a bath, JJ leaning back into you as you rubbed his shoulders and he massaged your calves and feet. 
Those nights would always lead to the two of you tangled up in your bed, or the shower, or on the floor. The beauty of owning your own home was that there was not one place - or position - you hadn’t tried. When you were first together, you had to talk JJ through pleasuring you, no girl ever being as honest with him as you were. He made you promise you’d never fake it with him, and you didn’t, patiently telling and showing him exactly what you wanted. He studied dutifully, storing away every single word you said. Now, you didn’t have to tell him anything, he knew exactly what to do. Hell, he knew your body better than you did.
“Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you,” he’d say, smiling coyly as you inevitably came undone for him in minutes.
Every night, whether you’d had sex or just talked about your days, he’d hold you until you fell asleep. And every night, without fail, he’d ask you to marry him. You’d just kiss him and tell him you loved him, falling asleep a few moments later. He didn’t take it personally, he understood why you were hesitant, and he’d wait until you were old and gray if that’s what you needed.
. ⋆ * .♡ *:・.   ݁  ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・.   ݁  ˖ ࣪ ..   ݁  ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・. ˖ ࣪ .
This was the first night in a long time JJ held you in bed and didn’t propose. A tropical storm was raging outside your little house, winds making the walls sway and rain pounding against the windows so hard you think they might break. You’re shaking in JJ’s arms, you’ve always hated storms and this is the worst one that’s hit the island in a long time. He pulls the covers over your head and wraps his strong arms around you tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the storm with soothing words.
“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he promises. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. ‘S just a little rain, it’ll pass.”
Even though you were terrified, his confident words were enough to lull you into sleep sometime in the early morning. When you wake up, JJ isn’t in bed next to you. Sun is peeking through the crack in the curtains and the sound of birds chirping has replaced the thunder. You pull on your robe and slippers and shuffle out of the bedroom. 
You brew yourself some coffee, thankful the power is still on, and walk around the house to check for leaks or damage. There isn’t a single problem. You sigh in relief, beyond grateful for all the hard work JJ had put in to make the house so safe. 
Suddenly, you hear voices coming from outside the screen door. You look out to see commotion up and down the street, you set your coffee down and step outside, eyes wide as you take in the storm’s aftermath. You realize with dismay that you and JJ were the only house on the block that seemed untouched. Every other yard was riddled with debris, roofs were damaged, windows broken.
You spotted JJ across the street, helping a neighbor lift heavy branches off of his car. Feeling helpless, you hurried back into the house and pulled out everything you had in the pantry and fridge, making sandwiches and cutting up veggies, loading up the back of JJ’s landscaping van with the food. You parked the van at the end of the street and handed out the food and drinks to everyone, creating a makeshift block party, while JJ made his way house to house to see how he could help with the damage. 
You try to listen as your neighbors discuss the volume of the thunder and share stories of past storms, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting back to JJ. He looked so strong and capable, lifting heavy branches, boarding up broken windows, clearing debris. Every neighbor he helped was left laughing, their smiles wide as he eased their worry by just being him. 
Once it starts to get dark, you and JJ invite everyone over for a bonfire and cookout in your backyard. You’re sitting by the fire, watching with adoration as JJ plays tag football with all the kids. He purposely let them win, making them feel like they were ten feet tall. They all dogpile on him in excitement and you laugh along with all the other adults, shaking your head lovingly.
One of the young moms in the neighborhood you had come to know fairly well sits next to you, smiling knowingly as she watches you watch him.
“It’s really none of my business,” she says to you quietly, “but why aren’t you two married?”
You don’t look away from JJ as you respond, “y’know, I had a reason, but I can’t seem to remember what it was.”
After everyone has left, the yard is a mess of solo cups and the fire still burns. You look around and sigh, you’ve been cooking and helping people all day, and you didn’t realize how exhausted you were after getting so little sleep last night. You start to pick up, yawning as you bend down to pick up something off the ground. You feel JJ’s arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You lean back into him and sway as he places a kiss on your cheek.
“Loved watching you today,” he says, his voice low. “Cooking for everyone, making sure everyone was okay. You’re such a good person, baby.”
You smile at his praise. “I learned it from you,” you say sweetly.
“Nah, babe, you got that the wrong way around,” he laughed. “You think the me you met five years ago would’ve been out here helping people clean up? I would’ve taken one look around and gotten the hell out of here.”
You smile at this, knowing he was right, picturing eighteen-year-old JJ grabbing his board and peeling out of the neighborhood at the first sight of trouble.
“You made me a better man,” he says, his tone serious now.
You lift one of his hands up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He holds you for a long while as you look up at the stars, the night clear and calm after the storm.
“I drew you a bath,” he breaks the silence.
“Thank you, but I have to clean up,” you say, breaking from his hold and looking around the messy yard.
He just takes the trash from your hand and shakes his head, “I’ve got it, love. You don’t want your bath to get cold and waste the water.”
You smile at him, knowing his play. “You turned it on before telling me so I couldn’t say no.”
He doesn’t deny it, just kisses you on the cheek and starts picking up more empty paper plates and cups.
The bath water was perfect when you got in, your favorite candle already lit and some soft music playing. Your heart squeezed at JJ’s thoughtfulness as you relaxed into the warm water and let it wash away the day.
From your spot in the tub, you could see JJ in the yard, lit by the moon as he poured water over the fire to put it out. You felt suddenly emotional, overwhelmed by the deepest affection for him. You thought about his comment that you’d made him a better man. It was true that he’d grown so much in the last five years, but you couldn’t take all the credit. Maybe you were the reason he’d begun the journey, but he got to this destination all on his own. No one worked harder than him, or loved harder, or played harder. He provided for you, while still acknowledging how hard you worked, too. He encouraged all your dreams, listened to all of your anxious ramblings, laughed at all your stupid jokes. He never missed the chance to tell you how smart, beautiful, and special you were. He was selfless, always putting your needs before his. Even when you’d fight, he never walked away, never let the night end without trying to come to an understanding, only sleeping on the couch when he knew what you needed most was space. He’s proven to you over and over that he’s become the man you need.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the bedroom door open and shut. You hear JJ shuffle around in the bedroom for a bit before settling, surely not wanting to interrupt your relaxation. It hits you all at once, finally finding the answer he’s been wanting from you for years.
You drain the tub and stand at the sink,running your hands through your hair and dabbing on a little lipgloss. You rub vanilla scented lotion into your skin, JJ’s favorite. You walk over to the walk-in closet he built for you, digging through the drawers until you find a new pair of pink lace panties and its matching bra and garter set that he hasn’t seen you in yet.
When you slowly open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom, JJ is sitting on the bed in only his boxers, leaning against the headboard as he scrolls on his phone.
“Babe, you need to see these videos of the swells this morning,” he tells you, eyes still fixed to his phone as you start to walk slowly toward the bed. “We gotta get out there tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” you purr.
He looks up the sound of your sultry voice, eyes immediately widening at the sight of you in your lingerie. He sits up, moving to the side of the bed and throwing his phone behind him, not even caring when it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor with a crash.
“Damnnnn,” he whistles at you playfully, making your cheeks heat up as you giggle.
“You like it?” You do a little twirl for him.
He looks you up and down hungrily, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He hooks his finger and motions for you, “get over here.”
A rush of excitement flows through you, straight to your core, and you saunter over to him. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand in front of him, between his legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burying into yours as he slowly reaches his hand up to rest on your hip.
“I love it,” he places a soft kiss onto your stomach and you feel goosebumps shoot up all over your skin. He kisses you a few more times before pulling back slightly to mumble, “it’s too bad I’m gonna have to rip it off.”
You moan softly at the feeling of his soft lips grazing over the sensitive skin right above the waistband of your panties. Before he can go any further, you grab his face in both hands and lift his gaze back up to yours.
“You first,” you whisper. 
JJ’s lips spread in a wicked smile, and you instinctively press the pads of your thumbs into his dimples. You lean down to place a quick kiss to his lips before saying, “lay down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says eagerly as he scrambles back to lean against the headboard.
You slowly climb over him, your knees on either side of his lap, and ever so slightly drop your hips, your core ghosting over his clothed cock. At the slightest contact, he groans, unable to help himself but attach his lips to your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin for a moment, before running his tongue over the same spot.
“Mmmm, you taste like vanilla,” you smile at the warmth in his words.
“Put on that lotion you like,” you explain as you grind down on him again, just a little harder this time.
“God,” he groans. “You’re so good to me.”
“Not as good as you are to me,” you smile down at him as you start rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips to guide you to continue grinding. You place soft, wet kisses on his neck and chest, offering him a praise between each one. 
“You make me so happy…treat me so well…fuck me so good…make me come so hard…make me so fucking horny…”
His dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of your dirty talk. You continue moving your kisses down his abs, backing up your body to reach lower with each one. 
“Fuck, angel,” he chokes out, “you got me so hard.”
You look up at him with a smirk, you’re between his legs now, face inches from the waistband of his boxers, you arch your back so your ass sticks up behind you, giving him a perfect angle of your body. 
“Can I taste you, J?” You pout, as if he’d ever say no.
“Mhm, do whatever you want,” he pants, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. Even when he has you in this position, he’s sweet, taking care of you.
“All I want is to make you happy,” you tell him, your intent was to sound sexy, but you can’t help the bit of emotion that creeps in, realizing how true your words are on so many levels.
He sits up when he notices the way your brow is drawn together in sincerity. He kisses your forehead and whispers, “all you gotta do to make me happy is exist.”
This man is perfect, you think, a huge grin on your face. You kiss him back once before laying your hand gently on his chest so he’ll lay back. You keep your hand over his heart as the other pulls down the waistband of his boxers. His dick springs free the second the fabric is out of the way. Even after all these years, your stomach still flips with excitement when you see his cock hard and needy for you. He places one hand over yours on his chest, while his other hand finds its way back into your hair.  
You wrap your fingers around his shaft gently and he sucks in a sharp breath, overly sensitive from how worked up you’ve got him. You drop a kiss to the tip, leaving a dab of lipgloss behind, quick to brush it off with your thumb, the motion making his hips buck up.
You know he’s trying to be patient, not to rush, afraid to pressure you. Your heart swells at his considerate restraint. You reward his patience by flattening your tongue and dragging it from his base to his tip, swirling it over the tip a few times before bringing his cockhead into your lips.
He looks down at you, eyes wide, watching the way your mouth accepts him. You moan softly at the taste of him and it reverberates through his body, making his head fall back against the headboard with a bang.
“Are you ok, love?” You ask nervously.
He laughs and shakes his head at his own clumsiness, “I’m fine baby, you just got me so damn worked up, your mouth feels so good.” 
You smile in satisfaction and return your mouth to his tip. You work him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, trying to relax your throat as best you can. Even though you’ve done this many times, you’ve never gotten used to the size of him. He knows it, too, looking at you with concern as you start to gag a bit, only two-thirds of the way down.
“Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay if you stop there,” you pull off of him and he thinks you’re done, but you just shush him as you run your hand up and down his shaft a few times before diving back in. 
When he’s finally all the way in, his tip nudging the back of your throat, you moan to disguise your gag so he knows you’re okay. He seems to relent, tugging slightly at the roots of your hair and gripping your hand harder, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob up and down.
“Shhhit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That’s perfect, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”
You keep up the pace for a couple minutes, JJ a whining mess beneath you. You adored the sound of him letting go and feeling good. He worked so hard, and always tried to prove how strong he was, nothing felt better than making him finally relax. 
When you moaned around him again, he bucked his hips up subconsciously.
“Wait,” he sat up, “wait wait wait.”
You pulled off of him, startled, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s so good, too good,” he rushed to assure you. “Not gonna last much longer.”
You smiled pridefully, “where do you want to finish, baby?”
“Inside, need to be inside you, please,” he used the hand he was holding to pull you up to him, making you laugh as you fall onto his chest.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” you giggled, placing a swift kiss on his lips.
“Yeah?” He taunts as he flips you onto your back gently, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra. “You finally gonna let me rip these off of you?”
You pull your lip between your teeth and nod, watching JJ’s hands move swiftly to rid you of the lacy fabric. Once he had your bra and panties off, he kissed you again, and you let out a little sigh into his mouth. He studied your face as his hand dipped between your legs, two fingers gliding through your wetness. You whimpered and twitched beneath him as he grazed your clit.
“All this for me?” He asked, well aware of the answer.
“Yes,” you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, the pressure of his fingers against you so good your legs were starting to shake. “I’m yours, J. Forever.”
His nostrils flared slightly at the sound of the words, never needing to be inside you quite as much as he did in that moment. He used your wetness on his hand to get his dick ready, sliding in slowly as your back arched while you gasped at the sensation.
“Forever, huh?” He asks as he sinks into you.
You nod desperately, pulling a wicked grin from him as he finally bottoms out. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly at first, picking up the pace when you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him.
“I love you so much,” he says so earnestly your heart aches, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I love you too, you have no idea,” you tell him.
When he shifts his hips slightly so his pelvis rubs over your clit, you clench around him, crying his name in pleasure.
“I think I have some idea,” he teases.
You squeeze him again, harder, making the smile fall from his lips as he groans, jaw clenched.
As JJ picks up his pace, brushing over your clit with each deep thrust, both of you moan, your breaths becoming frenzied and your sweat mixing together everywhere your skin touches.
His words are a tangled mess of I love yous and fucks, yours a chant of oh my gods and his name. You squeeze him again, your orgasm approaching. He watches your face, eyes shut tight and lips parted, your hair a halo around you as he presses you into the pillows with each stroke. It’s the most beautiful sight, he thinks, the most precious person in the world, completely lost in the joy he’s giving her.
He can’t help himself when he whispers, “marry me.”
Your eyes shoot open, meeting his with surprise, and he wishes he hadn’t said it, that he had waited until later like he did every other night, when you were falling asleep and too tired to scold him for his impulsiveness. 
But then, you reach your hand up to caress his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at him with so much love and affection.
“Yes,” you say.
He stops moving into you and leans away from your face a bit, positive that he misheard you. 
“Wh-what?” He sounds concerned, like maybe he was dreaming and none of this was really happening.
“I wanna marry you, JJ,” you repeat, your voice sure and unwavering. You caress his cheek with your thumb, waiting for his mind to catch up with his ears. 
When it finally does, he places a kiss on your palm and sinks into you again, moving slowly at first in his dazed state, before you lift your hips, reminding him how you like it. He pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breaths filling the room as you near your high.
“You gonna be my wife?” JJ asks, watching your face contort with pure bliss. 
“Yes!” You cry, the wave of your orgasm crashing into you hard, your clenching walls pulling JJ’s from him as he fills you. 
That night, while JJ held you like he always did, your back to his chest, he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You turn in his arms so you can look at him, trying to read his face.
“What’s wrong?” You ask.
“I’m trying to figure out how long I have to wait before I can start asking if we can have a baby,” he admits, his tongue poking into his cheek.
You laugh loudly, swatting his shoulder.
“You really don’t give up, do you Maybank?” 
“On you? Never.”
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a/n: in which nat takes a break from all the rafe angst to write some jj fluff. I saw some of the jj girlies say he needs more fics, so i'd thought I'd try writing for him and I had soooo much fun!! also I fear short 'n sweet has a death grip on my one-shots, oh well.
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writingouthere · 11 months ago
Text
exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.
cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.
Your date was a disappointment.
The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.
"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.
"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.
Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.
Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.
"I'm her boyfriend."
Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.
Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.
"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.
"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.
"You didn't even meet him."
"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"
You hated that he knew you so well.
"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.
"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."
"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.
"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."
"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.
"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.
"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.
"Where can we talk then?"
"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.
"Then let's go home."
"You mean to your home."
Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.
You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.
"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.
"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.
You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.
"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"
"Princess-"
"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.
"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"
"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."
You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.
"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."
"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.
They taste like cherry chapstick.
His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.
His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.
Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.
"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.
"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.
"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.
"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.
"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."
You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.
"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."
The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.
You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.
Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.
Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?
No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.
"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.
The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.
Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.
"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."
"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.
"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.
"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"
"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."
You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."
Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.
For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.
You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.
"Alright, come then, you've earned it."
With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.
Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.
"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.
Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.
"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."
"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.
You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."
When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.
You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.
"Cozy."
"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.
"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."
The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."
"I did."
He looks at you. "Why?"
"You know why," you say, tired again.
"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."
"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."
"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.
"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"
"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.
"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."
"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"
"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."
There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.
Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."
"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."
"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."
"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."
"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.
"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."
"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."
You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.
"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."
Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"
"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."
"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."
You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.
"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."
"That's asking for a lot from a guy."
"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.
"Bye, Sukuna."
Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.
He leaves without another word.
When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.
----------
It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.
The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?
"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.
"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."
"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.
You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.
"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.
"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."
You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.
"Hey."
"Hey, princess. Bad time?"
"No, just, what do you want?"
"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."
You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?
"What do you want to say?"
"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."
"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.
"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."
You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.
"Uh huh."
"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."
"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.
"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."
"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"
"Why do you talk like such a brat?"
"You know-"
"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.
"So when is this date?"
"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."
"Are you fucking here, you creep?"
"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."
"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.
"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."
"Alright, I'll see you soon."
Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.
But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.
There's another guy that you love.
So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.
Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?
Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.
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hyunebunx · 5 months ago
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ''what are we?' with skz
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff and a little angst and a lot of uncertainties
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: in honor of 'i like it' , i think this is a very fitting first post lmao
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𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - “whatever you’d like us to be.”
He smiles, and you swear it lights up the whole room. Sweet, considerate Chan who never wanted to make you uncomfortable by rushing into things. The man you’ve been seeing for months now that didn’t put a label on your relationship just to give you space and time to sort out whatever else was going on in your life. The one who’s been there for you even if he didn’t have to, especially since you weren’t official, or anything at all.
The best man you could ever ask for.
That’s why, the next action feels like the most natural one.
Taking a deep breath, you return his smile and lean forward, resting your forehead on his. He stares deeply into your eyes, mesmerizing you with their beauty while his smile never falters.
“Then, would you do me the pleasure of being my boyfriend?”
Chan can’t help but chuckle, swiftly grabbing you by the waist to set you in his lap before pecking your lips. “It would be my honor, baby.”
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - “you tell me.”
Looks you dead in the eyes, with one eyebrow raised defiantly, the food he prepared and laid out nicely suddenly forgotten. This wasn’t the answer you were expecting. However, it’s such a Lee Minho one that you can’t even be surprised for more than a moment. Shuffling in your seat, you clear your throat before complying, all caution out the window.
“You’re my boyfriend. Only mine.”
Minho nods slowly just like a cat, his doe eyes never leaving yours as he continues to give you his undivided attention. “Alright. So then, what are we?”
You watch him, trying to understand what exactly he wants to hear right now. Your answer rests on the tip of your tongue yet, you hesitate, not knowing if he shares your feelings on the matter. He’s always been a complicated man, not giving anything away.
What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
You take a deep breath. “We are…lovers. A couple.”
This causes Minho’s smile to return, eyes twinkling again as he finally pushes a plate of food in your direction. “There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - “whatever we are, I like it.”
Changbin shrugs, bringing you closer to his chest by the arm he wrapped around your shoulders. The movie on the tv serves as background noise as your feelings threaten to overwhelm you, ready to take you down a well-known path of overthinking. What does that even mean?
Does that mean that he likes you? Loves you? Dislikes you with every fibre of his being but is too comfortable to say it? Usually, you would appreciate Changbin’s laid-back nature but now, it only makes you feel worse.
Why do relationships have to be so complicated? With him by your side, you thought it would be all smooth sailing but it looks like that isn’t the case.
“Y/n?” He asks, tearing his eyes away from the screen. “Is everything okay?”
His concern seems real, but is it really? Or is it just an act meant to have you fall even deeper in love with him? At this point, you don’t even know.
Shaking your head, you hide your face in the crock of his neck, choosing to ignore your screaming mind in favour of basking in his affection just for a while longer.
“Yeah, things are great.”
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - “is this your way of asking me to make it official?”
Ever the hopeless romantic, Hyunjin gives you the sweetest smile, the sight making your heart beat faster. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to make things official with Hwang Hyunjin. But, would he want that or is he just playing with you? Your concerns seem unreasonable since he isn’t that kind of person but you never know.
“And what if it is?”
The smile turns cocky, resembling a smirk more than anything. “So, you like me?”
You giggle to hide your growing embarrassment and nerves. “I mean, I’m sure you know the answer to that question.”
He fakes ignorance, looking at you with big, puppy eyes that still pull at your heartstrings. Hyunjin knows all the buttons he needs to push to get you wherever he wants.
“Nope. Do tell.”
Without missing a beat, you say exactly what’s on your mind, wanting to pay him back for all the teasing by short-circuiting his brain.
“I love you.”
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - “Is that a rhetorical question? You genuinely want an answer?”
Poor baby has never been more flabbergasted in his entire life. What do you mean ‘what are we’?! This isn’t high school, and you aren’t kids, what are you even confused about? He’s always made himself as clear as possible when it came to your relationship.
“You’re my baby, the love of my life, what kind of question is that?”
You shrug, turning on your side to face him. “Be more specific, Sungie.”
His mouth falls open comically, and you do everything in your power to not burst out laughing at the sight.
“We’re literally laying in bed together right now. I said I love you less than five minutes ago.”
You move closer to rest your head on his sturdy chest. “Yeah, but what exactly ARE we?”
Jisung stares down at you without a word for a few moments, trying to understand if you’re fucking with him or not until he sees the beginning of a grin stretching across your face and scoffs, turning to face away from you.
“Go to bed, Y/n, I’m too tired for your nonsense.”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - “what do you want us to be?”
You’re greeted by big, hopeful eyes as Felix turns to look at you like you’ve got all the answers he’s ever sought for. Like you’re a genie that is capable of granting his every selfish wish. For him, you kind of are since your relationship pretty much marches to the beat of your own drum, with him just tagging along for the ride.
Felix would like to change that though – would love to just take matters into his own hands for once and answer your question with full confidence. But, he can’t. So, he throws the ball in your court again, wanting to avoid getting hurt.
You don’t answer right away, instead letting your head fall on his shoulder as you take your time to think his question over.
“How about…we try being more than friends?”
His face lights up instantly, buzzing with happiness at your proposal. Beaming, he nods before gently grabbing the back of your head to connect your lips in an eager kiss.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - “a mess.”
You’re expecting to see him smirking or even rolling his eyes at your question, however, once you turn around, none of those things happen. He’s just looking at you, face devoid of any emotion, and that’s when you realize that to him, this is serious. Seugmin isn’t playing around nor is he avoiding the subject – that is genuinely what he thinks on the matter. To him, whatever relationship you’ve developed, is a complete mess. If it’s a mess he enjoys or on the contrary, finds troublesome, is a question for another day.
“Well,” you begin, still taken aback by his blunt answer. “You’re my mess.”
This time, he does roll his eye, acting more annoyed than he actually is as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and lean down to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Whose else would I be, dummy?” he shakes his head, voice uncharacteristically soft. Turning around in his seat, Seungmin moves to embrace you properly before burying his face in your soft hair.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - “you know what we are. You just want to hear me say it.”
You nod, taking another sip from your drink before releasing his hand. “Alright. Then say it.”
When he sees you stop in the middle of the crossroad, he follows, visibly confused. His hand moves to grab yours again, however, you pull away, shaking your head.
“Answer me properly, Jeongin.”
His eyebrows furrow as he tries to wrap his head around what’s suddenly gotten into you. Did you really want to have a conversation as serious as this here, out in the open? What was happening?
“I – “ He feels his whole face warm up, voice cracking and not allowing any other words to slip out. Jeongin knows what he wants to say, he’s had a whole speech prepared for a while now. But, being put on the spot like that has him freezing up so, he ends up giving a totally different answer, one that breaks both of your hearts simultaneously.
“We’re…” He pauses, looking down, “just friends, of course.”
The look on your face hurts so much, he almost doubles down in pain as you turn your back to him and walk away from his life, presumably for good. He has really screwed up this time.
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cumironi · 5 months ago
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THE ONE WITH THE PRANKS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU
living with you is all fun and games. . . until you start pulling all of these harmless pranks on them.
w/c : 4,1k
warning : fluff
[☆] MASTERLIST
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CRACK MY NECK, BABE?
you were sprawled on your bed, scrolling through your phone and idly passing the time. as you flipped through various videos, you stumbled upon one where a girl pulled an elaborate prank on her boyfriend by pretending he had accidentally broken her neck. the sheer shock on his face made you burst into laughter.
a mischievous idea sparked in your mind: what if you pranked suguru geto? his usual softness, gentleness, and delicate demeanor would make for a perfect reaction. the thought of him panicking over a broken neck scenario seemed both hilarious and irresistible.
feeling a rush of excitement, you decided to act on your idea. you got up from your bed and headed to the kitchen. you found some raw pasta and stuffed it into your cheeks, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous you must look. the hard pasta pieces poked uncomfortably, but the anticipation made it worth it.
with a mischievous grin on your face, you made your way to the living room. there you found geto and gojo in their usual spots— geto was engrossed in a book, while gojo was lazily watching tv. you could hardly contain your laughter as you approached them, knowing that your prank was about to unfold.
“love, can you crack my neck?” you ask him.
geto paused for a moment, looking up from the book he was reading. he studied your face for a second, noticing your slightly puffed cheeks. a mixture of confusion and concern crossed his usually calm expression. “crack your neck?” he repeated, his voice tinged with uncertainty. meanwhile, gojo, ever observant even in his lazy state, looked over at you, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.
geto closed his book, resting it in his lap as he gave you his full attention. his eyes searched yours, trying to decipher the situation. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his tone gentle yet cautionary. meanwhile, gojo's lazy interest quickly turned into intrigue. he sat up slightly on the couch, no longer paying attention to the tv show he had been watching.
you nod, “yes, my love.”
you walk over to him and sit on his lap with your back facing him. “i've been feeling pain in my neck these past few weeks,” you pretend to complain with fake pain in your voice. geto's expression softened as you settled onto his lap, facing away from him. he gently placed his hands on your hips, steadying you. “why didn't you tell me earlier?” he asked, his concern growing at your complaint. his hands move to the base of your neck, tenderly massaging the area.
“it was nothing, i just wanted you to crack my neck,” you told him, still persistent on him cracking your neck. geto's brows furrowed a bit at your insistence, but his touch remained gentle and hesitant. as his fingers continued their careful massage, he spoke in a low, slightly worried tone, “are you sure this is the best way to deal with it? i don't want to hurt you, my love.”
you hummed softly, “yes, i'm pretty sure, baby.”
despite his initial hesitation, geto sighed softly and relented. he knew you could be stubborn when you wanted something. “alright, but please tell me if it hurts, okay? i'll be careful,” he reminded you, his voice tender but firm. gojo, now fully engrossed in the unfolding scene, leaned forward on the couch, his eyes fixed on you both.
you only nodded, don't really have faith in yourself if you open your mouth. geto takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he's about to do. with one hand still resting on your hip, he carefully encircles your neck with the other hand. “ready?” he asks, his voice laced with both concern and determination. you only give your boyfriend a gentle nod as an answer.
with your confirmation, geto's grip around your neck tightens slightly. using a well-practiced motion, he applies a controlled, yet precise pressure to your neck, attempting to crack it. meanwhile, gojo, who had been silently watching, leans even more forward, his eyes wide in anticipation.
there's a sudden, loud cracking sound as it responds to the manipulation— but instead of it from your neck, it is actually from the raw pasta you just bite inside your cheeks. your body falls on the floor with hard tud and geto gasps in horror.
gojo is stunned into silence as the loud crack rings through the room. his eyes widen even further, his mouth hanging open in shock. geto, however, is horrified. he jumps up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you lying motionless on the floor. he drops to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he gently turns you over.
“no, no, no, no,” geto mutters under his breath, his voice filled with disbelief and panic. he frantically checks your breathing, his hands shaking as he brushes your hair away from your face.
“fuck, i'm sorry baby, fuck—”
meanwhile, gojo has leaped off the couch and rushed over to you, dripping with sheer panic. geto's touch is urgent and desperate as he searches for any sign of life. his eyes never leave your face, his own breath coming in short, ragged gasps. gojo kneels down beside geto, his usual confident demeanor nowhere to be seen. his fingers reach out to touch your wrist, searching for a pulse, any pulse.
geto and gojo's panic turns to confusion and disbelief as your laughter rings through the room. they exchange glances, their worry slowly shifting to a blend of relief and irritation. gojo speaks first, his voice a mix of relief and annoyance, “you scared us half to death!” meanwhile, geto's initial relief morphs into a mix of bewilderment and anger. he stands up, pulling you up with him, and scowls at you.
“what the hell was that all about?” he asks, his voice a mix of anger and relief. his hands grip your shoulders firmly, a mixture of frustration and bewilderment etched on his face. gojo stands up as well, his initial relief transforming into a blend of confusion, irritation, and a hint of amusement.
“i can't believe you pulled a prank like that. you could've given us a heart attack!” he exclaims, his voice a mix of relief and a hint of admiration for your audacity. with a pout kissing your lips, you look at geto who's much taller than you with a puppy's eyes, “i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..” you murmur a soft apology.
geto's stern expression softens slightly as he sees your pout. however, his irritation hasn't fully faded. he let himself fall on the couch with a sigh.
“you scared me half to death, baby,” he repeats, his voice a mix of relief and lingering anger, “i thought you were hurt—or worse.” gojo, standing beside geto, lets out another chuckle, finding some humor in the situation, “yeah, that was kind of a dick move on your part,” he says, his tone now more serious— more likely pretend to be serious.
geto shoots a sharp glare at gojo, silently telling him to shut up. he then turns his attention back to you, his eyes still holding a hint of disappointment. “i don't think it was funny at all. what possessed you to do something like that?” he asks, his tone a mix of bewilderment and lingering concern.
gojo moved to sit beside geto as you stood in front of them, pulling the now-broken pasta from your mouth. with a mischievous glint in your eye, you looked at geto and gojo, mumbling, “i saw this on tiktok and thought it was funny.” their jaws dropped in disbelief, clearly stunned by the lengths you went to for this prank.
geto gently pulled you onto his lap, and you settled there, letting your leg rest on gojo’s lap. you wrapped your arms around geto’s neck and said, “come on, baby, you know it was all in good fun.”
geto lets out a sigh, his irritation gradually melting away as you snuggle onto his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. he can't stay mad at you for too long— especially not with your legs now across gojo's lap. “it was ridiculous, that's what it was,” he mutters, his tone a mix of stubbornness and affection.
meanwhile, gojo leans back into the couch, a smirk on his face as he rest his arm on your legs. “yeah, it was pretty entertaining,” he admits, his eyes flicking between you and geto. geto swats at him again, “don't encourage her. we almost had a heart attack, for crying out loud.”
gojo dodges geto’s swat with his lightning reflexes, chuckling all the while. “oh come on, you gotta admit, it was a pretty impressive prank, though. she had us going.” meanwhile, you continue to cling to geto, shamelessly playing the cute card to win him over. “yeah man,” you grin happily and raise your hand to give gojo a high five, knowing fully that he always has your back for something like this. “oh great, now you're high-five him,” he looks at you in disbelief before turning to gojo, “encourage her more, why don't you?”
gojo high-fives your raised hand, a large smirk plastered on his face. “what can i say? i respect the dedication.” he turns his smirk towards Geto, clearly enjoying teasing him. “and come on, it was a helluva prank. you have to give her credit for that.” geto rolls his eyes at gojo's response. He knows better than to argue when gojo is siding with you. “oh, yeah, a 'helluva prank',” he mocks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. he turns to look at you, his expression softening a fraction. “next time, maybe pick something less heart-stopping, okay?”
geto's resistance seems to soften under your affectionate display. despite his annoyance, he can't stay mad at you when you're clinging to him so adorably. he lets out another sigh, this one more resigned than stern. “you're lucky you're cute,” he mutters, his tone now laced more with fond resignation than lingering irritation.
HIDING SOMEONE IN THERE?
you heard the front door close and the familiar voices of gojo and geto echoing through the hallway. when you realized they were close enough to see you, you quickly shut the door behind you and pretended to hide someone in the room. you made sure to act like you were trying to keep a secret, adding a playful air to your hiding game as you waited for their reaction.
“h-hy, babe, how's work?” you ask, standing in front of the door and pretending to be nervous.
gojo was the first one to notice your demeanor. he couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at your unusually jumpy behavior and your nervous tone. he studied you carefully, narrowing his eyes as he tried to discern what was going on.
“it was fine,” he replies, his voice laced with curiosity. “but something seems off with you. is there something you're hiding from us? who's in there?” he questions. you shook your head, “n-no, i'm not hiding anything, nobody in there,” you tell them, holding tightly to the door handle.
geto chuckled at your attempt to be innocent. he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he observed the way you were guarding the door so vehemently.
“oh really?” he says with a knowing smirk. “why are you being so secretive then?”
gojo took a step closer to you, his eyes scanning your face for any hint of a lie. he could tell you were hiding something, and he was determined to find out what it was. “come on, babe,” gojo said, his voice gentle but firm. "tell us what's going on."
he reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. he could feel the tension in your grip, and he knew you were feeling nervous about something.
geto leaned forward, his expression now slightly serious. he knew how stubborn you could be when you were trying to keep a secret, and he was growing more curious by the second. gojo stepped even closer to you, towering over you as he looked down into your eyes. “open the door,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“it was nothing,” you persist, gently pushing gojo. with your curse, you make a sound inside the room, trying to make it more believable that you actually hiding someone inside.
gojo's eyes widened as he heard the sound coming from behind the door. he knew you were trying to distract him, but that only made him more suspicious. he quickly grabbed your shoulders, gently but firmly pinning you against the wall.
geto's smirk faded, replaced by a more concerned expression. he looked between you and the door, his mind racing with possibilities. he was getting impatient, “stop trying to hide from us. just tell us what's really behind that door.” you rolled your eyes— purposely knowing how much they hate when you do so and shook your shoulders to get hojo’s hands off you. “it’s nothing,” you said with a dismissive tone. “nobody’s in there. just go on.” you gave them a gentle push, urging them to move along.
gojo's grip on you didn’t loosen. in fact, it tightened a bit more as he leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on yours. “we know you're lying, babe,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. “there's clearly someone behind that door, and we deserve to know who it is.” geto moved to stand next to gojo, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you intently. he was starting to get annoyed by your stubbornness.
you look up to them, take a step back as you glue your back to the door. you shrug your shoulders, “i told you nobody's in there,” you casually said, acting nonchalantly.
gojo's expression darkened, his patience starting to wear thin. he took a step closer, his body towering over you once again.
“cut the act,” he said, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone. “you're only making yourself look more suspicious. just tell us who's behind that door already.” geto's gaze flicked between you and the door, his curiosity growing even more. he took a step closer, blocking any escape route. when you just stare at them without saying anything, gojo rolls his eyes and looks at geto. the black-haired man nodded his head and held you while he opened the door.
as the door swung open, the room was surprisingly...well, empty.
gojo's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“what the hell...” he mutters.
geto, still holding onto you firmly from behind, also seemed surprised by the lack of anything in the room. “did you really make us think you were hiding something, just to play with us?” he asks, the irritation evident in his voice. you laugh a little, “i told you it was nothing.”
gojo's annoyance started to turn into a mix of irritation and amusement. he shook his head, his lips slightly tugged into a smirk. “you're insufferable, you know that?” he says, his voice now laced with a hint of affection.
geto released his grip on you and let out a sigh, but his eyes were now filled with curiosity. “so, you really weren't hiding anything?” he asks, genuinely baffled. you push gojo inside the room and close the door before looking at geto. “oh, i'm in there, hehe, it's me!” gojo voice could be heard from inside the room. geto just laughs as you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him away to leave gojo alone.
“ah! who are you?” gojo screamed to nothing from the inside before he opened the door and saw you leave with geto. geto chuckled as he glanced at gojo's confused expression. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you away from the room, giving a nonchalant wave to gojo.
“see you later, love,” he called out, his voice filled with a hint of mischief.
meanwhile, gojo stood there dumbfounded, processing what had just happened. he couldn't believe you had tricked him into thinking you were hiding a person in there all this time. as you and geto walked down the hallway, geto couldn't help but laugh heartily, impressed by your sneaky ploy.
“i can't believe you made us think you had someone in there just to pull one over gojo,” he said, still chuckling. “you're something else, you know that?” you just giggle when he kisses your cheek. gojo caught up with you and geto, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face.
“i swear, you're going to drive me crazy one of these days with your pranks,” he said, shaking his head. “but i guess i should've known better than to fall for your schemes.” you glanced behind you and saw gojo already removing his blindfold. “so much for those six eyes,” you remarked, “and all for nothing.”
gojo chuckled and rolled his eyes. “yeah yeah, rub it in why don't you,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “i guess even with six eyes, i can still be tricked by my own girlfriend,” he added, his eyes landing on you. geto couldn't help but laugh again at the whole situation.
GIRLS' NIGHT
you are giggling to yourself as you put on a dress that shows too much skin for your comfort and for your two boyfriends' liking. it was already past midnight, and the three of you were ready to go to bed, but you decided to prank your boyfriend before going to sleep.
you can hear their voice talking in your shared bed. so with your make-up on and dress hugging your body, you walk out of the bedroom. as you walked out of the bedroom, gojo and geto suddenly went silent. their conversation stopped abruptly as their eyes locked on you, both gazes traveling up and down your body, taking in the sight of your exposed skin.
gojos breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly. he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as his eyes lingered just for a moment too long on your curves. geto's gaze darkened, his eyes scanning every inch of you. his jaw tensed as he tried to hold back his urges.
“where are you going? it's past midnight,” gojo asks, his possessiveness echoes through the room. his silver eyebrows knit together.
“i'm going out with a friend,” you tell them while standing in front of the mirror, giving them your back. both gojo and geto's expressions darkened at your reply. gojo's jaw clenched and geto's eyes narrowed. their possessiveness flared as you stated that you were going out with a friend.
“at this hour?” gojo's voice was laced with a hint of irritation. “who exactly are you going out with?” his eyes flicked over your skimpy outfit, his mind already filled with thoughts of other men seeing you like this. “i’m going out with the girls,” you said, trying to hide your smile. “babe, could you send me some money?” you turned around to face your boyfriends, who were now sitting on the bed.
gojo and geto exchanged glances, their expressions still guarded and possessive. “the girls, huh?” geto repeated, his voice betraying skepticism, “which girls?” gojo's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall before looking back at you. he nodded slightly. “i'll send you the money, but where are you going exactly?” he asks, trying to hide the unease in his voice. “shoko, utahime, and i are going to check out this new club that just opened,” you explained, giving them a ‘duh’ expression as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
gojo and geto's expressions softened slightly, but their suspicion still lingered in their eyes. they knew you weren't telling them the full truth, “that new club in shibuya?” gojo's eyes narrowed slightly. “the one that's all the rave right now?”
geto folded his arms, his jaw clenched. “that place is filled with all kinds of people,” he said, his voice wary. “are you sure its safe for you to be going there?” gojo couldn't help but feel uneasy about the thought of you being surrounded by a bunch of drunk men in a crowded and dimly lit club. he knew how protective and possessive he was, and the thought of other men looking at you sent a pang of jealousy through his chest.
geto, too, shared the same concern. his mind was filled with thoughts of some random guy trying to hit on you or touching you in ways only he and gojo were allowed to do. he clenched his fists, trying to rein in his anger.
“come here first,” gojo called you, waving his hands for you to walk closer. the moment you were close enough for him to hold, he wrapped his arm around you and gently threw you effortlessly onto the bed as you let out a small gasp and geto fast enough to cover your body with a blanket and sandwiches you in the middle, enveloping you in their warmth. “you're not going anywhere,” he hugged you tightly as your laughter mingling with surprise.
gojo's arms encircled your waist tightly, pulling you closer until your body was pressed against his chest. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, a possessive growl escaping his lips.
geto leaned in, adding an extra layer of protection by covering you with his own body. he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers gently tracing small circles on your skin. the room was filled with a mix of laughter and the sound of your heartbeat. gojo's hold on you was almost crushing, as he wrapped his long limbs around you, pinning you down on the bed.
geto's body was pressed against your back, his steady breaths fanning your hair. his fingers continued to lightly trace your skin, his touch gentle but possessive. “you're not going anywhere,” gojo's voice soft as he looks at you, “you're stuck here with us tonight.”
“why can't i go?” you laugh, still trying to wiggle your way out.
gojo's arms tightened around you, his grip almost bruising. “because we said so,” he replies, his voice stern, “those clubs are filled with drunk idiots and creeps. we're not letting you out of our sight.” geto nods in agreement, his chin resting on your shoulder. “besides, we think you look better with less clothing anyway,” he mutters into your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. “pervert, you just want to keep me for yourself,” you hit his arm lightly.
gojo chuckles against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “guilty as charged,” he murmurs, his lips barely tracing the sensitive skin of your shoulder. geto chuckles as well, his hand sneaking under your dress to caress your thigh. “can you blame us?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust. “look at how perfect you are. why would we ever want to share you with anyone else?”
let's just say nobody slept that night.
HEIMLICH
you and your two boyfriends are in the kitchen, preparing dinner together. you were standing by the counter eating some chips and just talking with your boyfriends. as you munched on your chips, gojo and geto were busy working on dinner, trying to outdo each other with their cooking skills.
gojo was cutting vegetables with a determined expression, his knife moving deftly and precisely.
geto was standing by the stove, stirring a pot of sauce with a spatula. every now and then, he would taste the sauce and make slight adjustments to the seasonings. the kitchen was filled with the clanking of pots and pans, the sound of sizzling oil, and the occasional banter from your boyfriends.
gojo and geto immediately turn their attention towards you as you start choking. they both rush over to your side, their eyes filled with concern.
“babe, are you okay?” gojo asks, frantically patting your back to help you breathe. geto grabs a glass of water from the counter and hands it to you, his own panic evident in his voice. “just breathe, take it easy,” he says, gently rubbing your back. you pointing at your throat, still coughing silently telling them that there is something stuck in your throat.
you pointing at your throat, still coughing while silently telling them that there is something stuck in your throat.
gojo and geto's eyes widen in realization as they see you gesturing to your throat, still coughing. “something's stuck?” gojo asks, his voice laced with worry. geto quickly moves behind you, positioning himself to perform the heimlich maneuver if necessary. “just try to breathe and stay calm,” he says, his hands ready to help.
he makes a fist with one hand and grabs it with the other. place his hands just above your belly button and below the ribcage. the moment he is ready to pull inward and upward on the diaphragm to force air out of the lungs to expel the blockage and feel your rear touching his crotch, you moan sensually.
geto quickly pull himself away and his face turns red as he realizes what just happened. gojo, on the other hand, can't help but burst into laughter. “did you just...?” geto mutters, his eyes still wide from surprise. gojo is practically howling with laughter now.
geto's face turns even redder, his mind clearly playing out a different scenario than what had just happened. you continue to burst out in laughter, enjoying his stunned expressions.
gojo can barely contain his laughter as he watches geto's flustered expression, still clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “i can't believe you actually moaned,” he sputters between fits of laughter. geto tries to regain his composure, still blushing deeply as he looks at you. “you did that on purpose,” he mutters, his voice a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.
you continue to laugh uncontrollably, finding the whole situation hilarious. gojo finally catches his breath and wipes away tears of laughter. “oh my god, that was priceless,” gojo says, still shaking with laughter. geto, still quite red and flustered, crosses his arms and pouts playfully. “you're never going to let me live this down, are you?” he asks, his voice laced with humor. you shake your head as you hold geto arm for support while you still laughing.
geto rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile at your endearing behavior. he playfully pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “you're enjoying this too much, brat,” he mutters, his voice filled with affection.
gojo grins widely, clearly still amused by the situation. “that was the best heimlich maneuver i've ever seen,” he says, chuckling. geto just groans, burying his face in his hands as he tries to hide his embarrassment. “i cannot believe you just did that,” he mutters, his voice muffled.
“i think you broke him,” he teases, nodding towards geto, who is still trying to hide his face. geto groans even louder, still mortified by the whole situation.
“i'm never performing the heimlich on you again,” he mutters, his voice filled with mock annoyance.
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muntitled · 6 months ago
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Attention!!!
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'- Summary: the one where Jake fakes being sick all for your attention
'- Warnings: Established Relationship, Language, Lying, Manipulation, Slightly toxic themes, Perv!Jake, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, Locker room talk, Oral sex, Dub/Con, Cockwarming, Spit, Bodily Fluids, Squirting, Oragasm Denial, Dom/Sub Themes, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Edging, Unprotected Sex
'- A/N: very unethical, very bad, pervy Jake. You have been warned.
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Jake had been far more physically affectionate than usual since he caught the flu. That should've been your first sign.
The first signs of his sickness began with you lying supine on the couch, absolutely immersed in the fantastical world of your current read while Jake spoke idly to himself, gaming away on the television with your legs propped on his lap. You were so immersed in your novel, you might've actually missed the first cough he let out.
Then the second.
And then finally the third that had your brows furrowing with concern as you lowered your book.
"Babe?"
"Hm?" Jake asked distractedly, he had just broken in his copy of FIFA 23, a gift from you that had him nearly fainting on the spot. He was addicted to you.
While he toggled with the controller, he missed the slightly worried look etching across your face but when he did finally catch it, he did a double take- glancing at your slowly frowning lips before dragging his eyes back to the TV screen.
"Why so blue, babe?" Jake still spoke distractedly, with his head turned sideways, his eyes remained glued to the screen. He coughs once more, causing you to discard your book to the side completely. The couch undulates underneath you both as you sit up, pulling your legs off Jake's lap. The whole time while you moved, he kept his gaze on you in his periphery, heart beating rapidly when you pushed against his side and placed your hand on his temple.
"Baby, are you getting sick?"
Jake couldn't form any words at all because your chest was pressed against his bicep and he nearly dropped his controller at the discovery that you weren't wearing anything under your oversized shirt.
Seeing you so concerned about him, it stirred something sinister in the pits of your stomach, something that craved to be nurtured by you.
"You're so pretty, you know that?" He looks away from the TV screen momentarily to stare at the curve of your breasts protruding from your flimsy shirt. Jake immediately decides that is enough to pause the game indefinitely, as he drops the controller, pulling you into his lap. Your frown deepens like the unmistakable pool of worry growing in the bottom of your stomach. You let Jake cuddle into your chest as you continued to feel warmth around his ears, his jaw, his neck.
"I think you're coming down with something,"
"You're right," he says, pulling back to pull his shirt over his head, "It's lethal. Experts say the only cure is to have my very attractive girlfriend riding me till I-"
"Jaeyun, I'm being serious."
He had begrudgingly taken the medicine thereafter but still his advances were strong …
"- it was the best head I ever got in my fucking life dude, I'm telling you" Jake says to Jongseong over the phone. As he reminisces, he treads from the kitchen to the living room, cradling a steaming bowl of Butternut soup you had whipped up for him to combat his "cold."
"You're diabolical-" says Jay, through the receiver.
"I made her cum too," Jake scoffs, "I'm not a complete monster."
He honestly didn't think it was a crime. Sure, he might've already recovered from his sickness 2 days ago but he'd give up one thousand sick-free days if it meant you'd dote on him as you've been doing the past week.
Jake lowers himself onto the couch thinking about how utterly domesticated you've looked, prancing about the kitchen in a little housewifely dress to cook up his soups to make him feel better. The only downside is that your soup worked a little too well, and here he was, with a raging hard-on thinking about how much you loved on him.
"She's going to kill you, you do know that?" Jongseong's snicker is as clear as day, and Jake rolls his eyes.
"She's not going to do shit. She likes me like this as much as I do-".
"You’re sick-" Jongseong groans.
"Precisely," Jake laughs, and in his cocky display he nearly doesn't notice you standing in his periphery. Once he does, he's ready to end Jongseong's call in a heartbeat.
"I'll call you back," he mumbles over the line, mouth parted slightly as he stares at you over the rim of his bowl of Butternut soup. You're distractedly searching for something with nothing wrapped around your body other than a linen white towel. Jake immediately discards the bowl on the coffee table, spreading his legs wide as he makes grabby hands at you.
"Not now, Babe," The way you speak to him, so positively filled to the brim with warmth and love, that has him melting into the couch.
"I need you," he says, fingers flexing as he urges you to throw yourself into his arms. "I need you real bad,"
"What you need is more cough medicine," you're slowly sauntering towards him, despite your words (it was so difficult to say no to him), and the second you're even a small centimetre within the radius that surrounds him, he sits up and grabs you, caging you in his arms, never to let go. You yelp as you are pulled onto his lap- a sound that bleeds into a gasp when you're forced to feel the erection bulging his grey sweatpants.
"I need to run to the pharmacy, Jake,”
Your boyfriend is utterly insatiable as he guides his lips to the back of your ear, licking and kissing at the skin all while drinking up your cute little gasps. Your back is pressed against his front with your ass pushing against his bulge, it's an absolute wonder that he stops himself from bucking up into you.
“Need you so bad, baby-” he mumbles, kissing up the side of your face with his eyes fluttered shut, “Need you to make me feel better-’ you're breathing heavily, ready to push yourself off of him until he mutters, “You want me to feel better, right.”
Your voice is soft and affirming as you predictably mumble, “Yes, Jake, of course-”
“Then let me in, baby-” he sinks his fingers into the softness of your belly, and dips to plant even more kisses down the side of your neck. Jake marvels at how malleable you are in his hands. Like perfectly sculpted clay.
It is only when he finally reaches around to tug at your towel that you are snapped from your daydreams. “Jake- I need to get you stronger meds, you've been sick for way too long-”
“Fuck- I'm so hard for you baby,”
“Jake…” he interlocks his hand around your wrists, guiding your palm back to the space between your ass and his bulge. “Feel how much I need you,” Jake mumbled in that petulant way that had you complying with his crude sexual advances all week. -And you couldn't even lie to yourself at this very moment, your core was steadily soaking your underwear. You loved how needy he was. How much he needed to be inside you. And you've indulged him, this entire week, after he'd drank his medicine, Jake would always somehow end up inside of you, fucking you relentlessly as if there was no sickness at all.
“J-Just need to be inside you, yeah?’ he's already lifting you with one arm circled around your waist. It's enough for him to pull his sweatpants down, his hard, heavy cock far too eager for you to sink down on it.
“Jake- babe-”
“Here, lick this-'' Jake immediately stuffs two fingers in your mouth and you're immediately silenced. It's how he manhandles you, how utterly in control he is despite being sick, that has you humming and moaning around his fingers. The second he pulls them out, he's reaching under the towel to rub your puffy clit.
“You're so wet, I think you want this too, Princess.”
Jake mumbles into the side of your head, spouting all his dirty vitriol in your ear like he knows you enjoy, all while slowly lowering you onto his monstrous cock.
“Oh my God, you're such a slut-'' he mumbles drunkenly as the head of his cock stretches you open. It fills you in a way that's not only satisfactory, but so deliciously addictive until soon, you're moaning phonography moans, as you push your ass back down onto him, fucking yourself on his leaking cock. “Just like that, fuck-” Jake's head is in the clouds, whike his mouth is hung open, utterly delirious with lust. You bring your knees onto the couch and Jake sits back, making way for you to sit in reverse cowgirl, enough to pull even more of him into you.
“M-Make me cum first,” you mumble, immediately resulting in Jake reaching around to rub furious circles around your clit.
“Fuck, I'm so close, Jakey-”
“God, babe, please cum for me-” he chants so many ‘babe’s’ so many ‘pretty pleases’ until you're squirting around him, with your cunt convulsing around his cock.
“Oh my fucking God, don't stop-” but that's exactly what you do once your high is over. You stop.
“W-What the fuck!?” Jake asks, bucking up into you, after your hips stop moving on top of him at all. He clamps his hand on your sides, urging you to move but you do nothing of the sort.
“Did it feel good, lying to me?” He doesn't register your words, far too hellbent of reaching for his orgasm that lays just beyond a metal threshold.
“Wh-What-”
“I heard you talking to Jongseong.” You seethe, craning neck back to glare daggers in his half-lidded, distressed eyes. “You lied about being sick.”
Jake throws his head back, whining before trying to fuck uo into tou again, “Baby, just sit back down, I'm so close-”
“How long, Jake,” He's trying to be serious, he's trying to sound apologetic, but the sternness in your voice has him reaching the edge.
“P-Past week, fuck!” Jake is in both heaven and hell as a small bit of precum dribbles from his cock still inside you. It twitches and throbs and Jake's fingers sink deeper into your skin. “Okay I couldn't resist you, you were so good!” he finally admits, “And your soup was so good. And the sex too! Everything was so good. What can I do to make it up to you?”
Your next words send a tidal wave of disappointment scorching his stomach. “I don't think you should get to cum- It seems like a bad idea to reward bad behavior with positive reinforcement.”
“Don't talk science at me, just fuck me!”
“I hate you.”
“Don't say that, babe- fuck-I'll cum,” He squeezes you tighter, keeping you firmly situated on top of him. His lips press into your back as he whines helplessly, pride be damned.
"L-Let me cum, babe, please. Im so sorry, I just love you too much. Way too much. And I love when you love me." There are invisible bloody strings pulling at your heart.
"I always love you though, Jake." And as you relent, immediately starting to move your hips again, Jake squirts his cum inside you whole his hips buck wildly into you.
“Just like that, Princess-” he mutters, gasping for air as his orgasm falls upon him. It's vicious and blinding after all that dangerous edging and he moans loudly into the open air. “So sorry-” he mumbles with his hips still bucking up inside you, “m’so sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you…”
2K notes · View notes
marxy-06 · 1 year ago
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Favorites Rec List 3
More of my favs -> Thanks to all these incredible writers for making my day a little better :))
Kim Namjoon
Stretch you out (@chateautae)
A little bit in love with you (@joonbo)
Mr. masseuse (@lavenjoon)
"Let me take care of you" (@mintelepathy)
Fantasies (@sweetwritertanya)
Kim Seokjin
24/7 Marriage counselor (@jimlingss)
A better grip (@jinkookspencil)
A helping hand (@jjungkookislife)
You again (@gashinabts)
Soarin' (@aquagustd)
Seokjin's ho ho ho (@yoongsisbae)
Jealous (@youtifulhobi)
Sacrifices (@justcallmenikki7)
Influence (@aquagustd)
Min Yoongi
Back burner (@yoonpobs)
Escapism (@yoonlattesworld)
Finding home (@helenazbmrskai)
Strawberry icecream (@euphoricfilter)
When I needed you (@dreamescapeswriting)
The cockpile: love birds (@httpjeon)
Crescendo (@ugh-yoongi)
Apricity (@delightfulserendipity)
Jung Hoseok
All it takes (@yoongiofmine)
Nibbling it (@jjksblackgf)
The promises we keep (@vyduan)
Your body is an artwork (@borathae)
Maybe the first, but not the last time (@euphoricfilter)
Park Jimin
Oh so reluctant (@back2bluesidex)
Pretty like you (@axigailxo)
Serendipity (@angellesword)
Blowing dandelions (@httpjeon)
All I need (@joonberriess)
Apricot (@vminity21)
Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)
Star light, star bright (@readyplayerhobi)
High school sweethearts (@choiwrites)
Taste of little (@maliby)
Cherry king (@jiminrings)
Turning to stone (@jjungkookislife)
He makes you insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)
Kim Taehyung
The art of touch (@chateautae)
Nude (@btssmutgalore)
Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)
Match made in heaven (@beenbaanbuun)
"I'll take care of you" (@guqwrvte)
Library kisses (@kwanslvr)
Jeon Jungkook
Way Back Home (@solemnreads)
Stretch you out (@chateautae)
Seven Days (@bonny-kookoo)
Jock!jungkook (@joonberriess)
Tracing your tattoos (@btsugarush)
Shades of red (@thatlongspringnight)
Pu$$y fairy (@angelguk)
Idealizations concerning real life relations (@venusiangguk)
Little blue pill (@dreamescapeswriting)
Brown eyed baby (@jeonstudios)
Superstar (@jinkookspencil)
Spicy n' sweet (@thvhoe)
The ability to fathom (@hanniwrites)
Bad omega, sweet omega (@helenazbmrskai)
"I couldn't live without you" (@jungk0oksthighs)
In my eyes (@axigailxo)
"Besties for the resties?" (@jessikahathaway)
You're leaving me (@delukoo)
Love; weakness (@akinnie75)
Bloodline (@jjkeverlast)
Greek god (@bonny-kookoo)
Size kink (@lavenjoon)
Ex on the beach (@beahae)
Off-league (@hansolmates)
Accidental roommates (@jjkeverlast)
Good girl (@bonny-kookoo)
Crazy (@kookiecrumb)
Curious boy (@jinkookspencil)
Confident (@h0neypjm)
Still perfect (@cupoftaae)
OT7
Trouvaille (@spookyserenades)
A comforting hand (@purpleyoonn)
Abundance (@angelicyoongie)
Appreciation (@vminizzle)
Reaction: faking orgasms (@dreamescapeswriting)
Mean kitty, soft kitty (@purpleyoonn)
Best of us (@bts-trash-blog)
You belong (@imnotlauriane)
(If you have any recs pls share, especially for Hobi, Jin, & Rm :))
7K notes · View notes
y3sterdaysproblem · 1 month ago
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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter six part two
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 5.4k
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You guys stood a few feet apart for a few moments, your body further into the room than him, his feet inches from the door. Your eyes flitted to the counter quickly, noticing a basket of complimentary alcohol. You instantly moved towards it and grabbed two shooters, throwing one towards Chris. “One more for good measure,” you joke, but you both quickly crack them open and swallow them with a grimace.
Chris throws his empty bottle on the floor and walks towards you determinedly, leaning down as he approached you to scoop you up with his hands under your ass. Your legs instantly wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, lips colliding harshly.
He walks a few more steps and plants you on the desk connected to the wall, not at all concerned about the creak you both heard. The only thing you guys cared about was the lust rushing through your veins.
As you kissed, articles of clothing started to come off. First, his suit jacket, then your shoes, then his shoes, then his tie was ripped off and thrown across the room, until you guys were only left in one layer each, and that somehow made this all feel even more real.
“Are you sure?” Chris clarifies again, his hands resting on the top of the zipper on your back, and all you had to do was nod before he started to pull it down, sliding you off of the desk to let it fall off of you.
You stood up on your now bare feet, slipping the straps off of your shoulders and allowing your dress to slide off of you and pool at your feet on the ground, left in only your underwear as you didn’t wear a bra with the dress. Chris’s breath hitched in his throat as he took in the sight of your nearly naked body, his dick twitching in his pants. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, putting his hands to use as he unbuttons his dress shirt, sliding it off as quickly as he could.
He steps back to you and wraps his arms around you, fingers exploring your back as you looked down to work on the button on his pants, quickly popping it open and shoving them down, leaving you both in just your underwear.
“Chris,” you whine, looking back up at him, your hands palming him through his boxers. He groans, his own hands sliding down to your ass.
“Hmm?” He hums, trying to focus on the fact that you were speaking.
“Bed, please?”
Chris shoves your hand away and picks you up again, dropping you back on the desk. He leans down and wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth enthusiastically. His right hand dips back to your underwear, pulling it to the side easily as it was a thong and already pretty thin. His middle and ring finger glided through your soaked slit, making you whimper and roll your head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “Bed is boring,” he mutters, kissing up your chest until he reaches your face again. “Bed is last.”
You cry out and arch your back towards him as his fingers slip inside of you with ease. “Oh my god, you sound so fucking good. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you like this, to make you sound like this.” Chris praises you, just like he had promised you on that date. The same comment that had sent your thoughts into a spiral.
“Chris!” You cried out as his fingers curled inside of you, thumb brushing over your clit simultaneously.
“Yeah, baby?” He coos, placing a soft kiss on your chin. “What’s on your mind?”
Your pick your head up off the wall and turn to look back down at him, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his fingers worked inside of you, your arms holding yourself up starting to become weak and shaky. “You. You’re on my mind, clearly you’re on my fucking mind,” you groan, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Fuck, I want you to make me cum so bad.”
Chris only smiles back at you, using his thumb a bit more as he fingered you, causing you to cry out. “Don’t worry, you’ll never want anyone else to make you cum after this.”
“You’re cocky,” you huff out, trying to hide the moan that slipped from your lips.
Chris laughs, pausing his fingers inside of you. “I’m good at what I do.”
You groan, reaching down to grab his wrist, trying to guide him to keep his fingers moving. “Come on.”
Chris furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. “What?” He asks. “What do you want?”
“Don’t tease me,” you try to demand, but it comes out soft and whiny.
“I’m not teasing you, baby, tell me what you want.” Chris’s left hand strokes up and down your leg as you share this exchange, his touch seemingly lighting your skin on fire.
“Chris!” You huff in aggravation. “You want me to beg for it? Fine, I’ll fucking beg for it. I need you, Chris. I need you to finger me, to eat me out, to fuck me, to do whatever the fuck you want with me for the rest of the fucking night. I need you so bad it physically hurts right now. I’m so desperate and horny that I feel like I could cum just from looking at your dick so please stop teasing me and fuck me until I’m crying, please.”
You’re almost out of breath when you’re done speaking, sucking air in quickly as you finish. Chris’s eyes darken at the permission to do whatever he pleased, knowing in his head you’ve just consented to the best sex either of you have ever had. “Coulda started with that,” he teases before slipping a third finger inside of you, making you cry out.
His fingers pump inside of you quickly, your body starting to shake from the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve had sex that it doesn’t take you long to start feeling your first orgasm crawling up inside you, your eyes clenched shut tightly as you focused only on the fingers buried deep inside of you, pressing everywhere you needed them.
“Chris,” you moan, a hand aggressively reaching out to grip onto his bicep, nails digging into the back of his arm. “Chris, I’m… fuck, I’m-.” You cut yourself off, legs trying to clench as the band in your stomach snaps, head falling back against the wall behind you as he coaxes you through your orgasm, lips coming down to press onto your neck, sucking a purple mark on the soft skin.
Your moans slow as his fingers slow inside you, pulling them out once you’ve come down, making you twitch lightly. You’re breathing heavily as you open your eyes and bring them to Chris’s as he pulls away from your neck, his own eyes falling down to where a long, sticky string of arousal connected your core and his fingers, completely fascinated by how wet you were.
He looks up into your eyes and smirks, breaking the silence. “You’re pretty wet for someone you hate. Can’t imagine how wet you get for someone you actually like.”
You roll your eyes and punch him in the chest lightly. “Shut the fuck up about how wet I am, I’m sure you have the worst blue balls of your life right now.”
Chris laughs, using his hand to slap down at your swollen clit, making you gasp and jump, clearly overstimulated. “Yeah, it actually kind of hurts but it’s so worth it to hear you like that just for my fingers.”
You push his hand away from you and stand up off the table, ignoring how shaky your knees were. You loop your fingers through your panties and slide them down, grimacing at how soaked they were. You definitely wouldn’t be able to wear those tomorrow morning on the way home.
You’re both standing in front of each other now, you completely naked and Chris in his underwear, dick clearly straining against the fabric. Your hand reaches out and starts to palm him, causing him to moan out quietly, feeling the first bit of relief for himself since the first kiss outside. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. “Want you so bad.”
You thread your free hand through his hair, tilting your head down to face him as your hand stroked him over his boxers. “You’ve got me,” you tell him in a whisper. “You can have me however you want.”
Chris picks his head up and connects your lips again, sliding his tongue against yours sensually as his hand comes up to rest on your jaw. He’s moaning into your mouth, damn near whimpering and it’s making you even wetter than before if that was even possible. He’s got you weak in the knees in more ways than one and you aren’t complaining a single bit.
You pull away from the kiss first, using both hands to slide his boxers down his legs, finally locking eyes on his rock hard length, a shiver making its way down your spine. “Holy fuck, Chris,” you whisper, and he just laughs.
“What?” He teases.
“You know what,” you tell him, looking up at his eyes that sparkled even in the dimly lit hotel room. “Go sit on the couch.”
He listens, turning around and walking to the couch with a bit more excitement than he usually would, plopping down on it with his legs spread, ready for whatever you wanted him for. You walked over slowly, eyeing him up and down where he was sat on the couch until you were directly in front of him. He had no idea where you were going with this and the thought of you having your own plan was exhilarating to him.
You shot a smile his way before sinking to your knees in front of him, hand reaching out to grab his dick and start stroking it, pulling small moans from his lips as you did so. You lean down, keeping eye contact with him, but don’t let your lips touch him quite yet.
“Tell me, Chris,” you say quietly. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted to get me like this. How long you’ve wanted to see me on my knees for you.”
Chris’s jaw is slack as he stares at you running your closed fist up and down his dick, heart pounding in his chest. “I-I don’t know, a really long time,” he whines out. “Fuck, you’re lucky I’m drunk otherwise I wouldn’t last at all, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
You giggle, leaning down to lick a strip from the base of his dick up to his tip, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking lightly before popping your lips off, pulling away again. “Not good enough. Tell me how long.” You demand, pulling your hand away completely and resting it on his thigh.
Chris groans at the lack of contact. “Since we were like eighteen! I can’t sleep with anyone without imagining what it would be like with you. I think about you when I get myself off. Every time I see you at my house I just want to bend you over the table and fuck you right then and there. It’s why I can’t be alone with you, because every time we’re alone and you’re just sitting there I just think about taking you wherever we are. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger for fucking years and you’ve had no idea, which is why I’m so desperate right now for something, anything, I just need you.”
You’re pretty sure the insides of your thighs were slippery at this point, completely coated in your arousal, not only from the orgasm but just from Chris’s words. He was so desperate for you and it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. It was enough for you to bring your hand back to the base of his dick and lean in, wrapping your lips around him and taking the first few inches, moaning when the taste of his precum hit your tongue. Chris’s hand instinctively went up and tangled in the back of your hair, wanting to push you down farther but resisting.
“Fuck,” he moaned, head lolling back onto the back of the couch and eyes fluttering shut. He focused on his hand in your hair, the way your head was bobbing up and down and your tongue where it was flattened on the bottom of his cock. It was all so overwhelming and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening after all of his fantasies. Though he was drunk, the fact that it was you overpowered his normal ability to last for what seemed like forever, his orgasm coiling in his stomach. “You’re so good, I’m- shit- gonna-.” Chris couldn’t even complete a full sentence and you knew what that meant, pulling your lips off of him completely.
You started to pump his full length with your hand, staring straight up at him. “Look at me,” you tell him and he picks his head up, eyes heavy as he looks down at you, mouth open as moans and whines leave his lips.
You’re not stroking him for long when he finally lets out a loud moan and shoots ropes of cum on his own chest, hips twitching and stomach tensing as he came. You smile at him and slow down, removing your hand once he’s finished, moving your eyes to look at his torso where his cum had been spread out, slowly dripping down his skin. “You look so good like that,” you whisper, bringing your hand that was coated in his semen to your lips, sucking off between your pointer finger and thumb while keeping eye contact with him. “Shame we didn’t do this earlier.”
Chris just watches you in awe, unable to say anything at the moment, too caught up in how sexy you looked. You just laugh at his silence and slowly rise to your feet before straddling him on the couch, sitting comfortably on his thighs. You lean down and lick a stripe up his chest, collecting more cum on your tongue, then bring your lips to his to kiss him again, cum slipping past your lips as your tongues danced together, causing Chris to moan at the taste.
He’d never had a girl do something like that before, but he thinks he would find literally anything you did hot, so he wasn’t even grossed out when he swallowed some of his own load, hands reaching down to grip at your bare ass, pulling you closer. Your hands rested on his cheeks and your hips started to grind against him, causing you to whimper out small moans of pleasure.
He noticed this and slipped one hand between you guys, grabbing his cock that was hard again, not sure if he even went soft after that orgasm, guiding your hips up with his free hand. Once you lifted your hips enough he positioned his dick at your entrance, ready for you to drop down on top of him and finally cross that line that he’d fantasized about for what felt like forever.
It was better than he’d ever imagined it when you finally sunk down and bottomed out, moaning into his mouth as you did so. “Shit, Chris,” you whine, pulling your face away from his. “You’re so big, feels so good.”
Chris planted both hands on either one of your hips, looking up into your eyes that stared down at him. “You feel incredible. I could stay like this forever.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him, placing a small, gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away and lifting your hips up, crying out as you drop back down again. You felt so full with Chris inside you like this and it was no doubt the best sexual encounter you’d ever had, and it was barely starting. “Chris,” you mewl, hips keeping a steady pace bouncing on top of him, his hands helping guide you so you weren’t too exhausted.
Your forearms were rested on his shoulders, using them for leverage slightly as your hips slammed against his repeatedly, the only sounds filling the room being the sounds of your bodies colliding and both of you breathing heavily. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again like this,” you whine out, the muscles in your thighs getting tired and your bouncing getting sloppy.
Chris wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart again, but not like this, not yet. He looped his arms around your back and leaned you backwards until you were laid out on the coffee table in front of the couch, your ass barely on the wood and your legs hanging off. He moved his hands to the underside of your thighs and pushed them back, pulling out of you and dropping down to the floor on his knees. “What are you doing?” You question, propped up on your elbows to watch him. He doesn’t answer, only drops his head down and latches his mouth onto your pussy, tongue connecting with your swollen, sensitive clit, causing you to cry out and drop your head back.
He easily slips three fingers inside of you, curling them expertly, and the feeling of him eating you out and fingering you had you shaking almost immediately, legs twitching against his head. “Chris!” You moan, dropping your elbows out from underneath you and reaching down to grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. He moans against your clit and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge again, a chorus of moans and whines leaving your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm once again.
Only this time, he didn’t stop or let up, he only pulled his fingers from you and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth if that was possible. You were no doubt crying at this point, tears dripping down your face as he continued to eat you out. “T-too much!” You tell him, but he didn’t let up, and you didn’t push him away, and it took no more than thirty seconds of him overstimulating you with his tongue to cum again, your head hanging off the coffee table and your jaw slack, completely silent as your body shook.
You finally sucked in a deep breath as he pulled away from you, kissing up your thighs as he looked down towards your completely spent body, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Eventually, you pick your head up and lift yourself back onto your elbows, looking down at Chris where he smirked at you from between your legs. “I almost passed out,” you huff.
Chris just laughs and stands up, helping you to your feet, his arms wrapped around your back to hold you up since you were too shaky to stand on your own. “I would’ve kept going even if you passed out.”
Your eyes widen at his words. “That’s fucked!” You say, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He just smiles at you before shoving you forward on the couch, causing a squeal to leave your lips. Your knees land on the cushions and your hands on the back of the couch, looking behind you to watch Chris step up behind you.
He places one hand on your hip and the other on his dick to line it up with your entrance, and you smirk to yourself as you press against him, arching your back for him. “You’re going to ruin me for anyone else,” you tell him, and it sounds like a joke, but you’re pretty sure it’s a hundred percent true.
Chris smiles and leans to press a kiss into your shoulder. “That’s the goal.”
He presses in and bottoms out in one go, making you gasp. You’d already had him inside you once, but the change in angle had you seeing black spots in your vision. “Fuck,” you whimper, placing a hand on the wall to brace yourself a bit from the harsh thrusts he was delivering, sending your body forward every time.
“You feel so fucking good,” Chris groans, both hands placed on your hips as he watches your ass bounce back every time he pounds into you, the sight of that and your pussy swallowing him whole making him lightheaded. “You’re so perfect, taking me so well. S’like you were made for me,” he slurs.
You couldn’t even speak at this point, too fucked out and overstimulated to be able to think about choking anything out, the only thing leaving your lips being a string of moans and whimpers, and maybe a little bit of drool from your mouth hanging open.
Chris’s hand slides up your back as he continues fucking you seemingly as hard as he can, grabbing your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head backwards, causing you to arch your back more. “This pussy was made for me, huh? Made just for me, for my cock only. Got you fucking speechless.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, not only drunk off of all the alcohol you both had consumed, but drunk off of you. The way you smelled, the way you tasted, the way you felt gripping around his dick with your pussy. It was making him fucking delirious.
You used your left hand to hold yourself on the wall, your right hand coming down to rub back and forth on your clit, the feeling of your hand and Chris inside you triggering your tears once more, unable to hold back the way your body shook with a loud cry. “Fuck!” You yell out, feeling yet another orgasm bubbling up inside of you. No one’s ever made you cum this much in one night. You didn’t even think you’d made yourself cum this much in one night.
“Chris, don’t stop,” you breathe out, fingers still rapidly moving back and forth on your core, thighs shaking. “I’m so close, please, you feel so good inside me, don’t stop, fuck,” a string of profanities spilled from your mouth, not really making much sense as Chris turned you into a blubbering mess.
“That’s it, baby, cum all over my cock, I got you,” Chris coos, voice a stark difference from the way he was dominating you, dick feeling like it was about to split you in two from how hard he was thrusting and pulling your hips back to meet him. You happily listened, nearly screaming into the couch as you touched yourself through your orgasm, lurching your hips forward and away from Chris as you felt something you’ve never felt with a partner, only ever with yourself before. You cried out as you came, the sound of a small stream coming from between your legs as you squirted onto the couch and your fingers, your release dripping down your legs.
Chris’s eyes widened as he watched you shake, coming down from your intense orgasm. “Holy shit,” he muttered, to which you only whimpered, dipping two of your fingers inside yourself to coax a little bit more liquid out, pulling your fingers out and spreading your lips apart as you squirted a bit more.
“Chris…” you whine, turning your head to look at him, seeing him staring down at your completely drenched pussy and thighs, watching as the liquid dripped down your legs and into the couch. “I’m sorry, that’s never happened with anyone before, normally it just happens when I’m by myself.”
Chris reaches forward again and grabs your body, helping you turn around so you’re sitting on the couch, finally relaxing and not holding yourself up. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks, breathless just from the sight of you. “That was… the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You blush, looking away from his eyes, but he just sits next to you and grabs your jaw in his hand, turning your head to face him. “I’m serious. Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You giggle a bit and move your body, swinging your leg over his lap once more, taking up the same position you guys were in earlier. “Chris?” You start quietly.
He hums in response, moving his hand from your face and sliding them both down your body. On your waist, your hips, your thighs, finally reaching around and resting on your ass. “Yeah, baby?”
You smile at his words, lifting your hips and grabbing his dick, dropping yourself back down onto it, causing him to let out a small hiss as your hips landed on top of his. “I want you to cum inside me. Please.”
Chris brings his eyes up to yours, and in that moment you know you’ve got him wrapped completely around your finger. He’d do absolutely anything you’d ask him. You could’ve asked him to nose dive out the window and he’d do it just because you asked him. He was completely and utterly whipped just after one taste of you, and he couldn’t even complain. He lets out a small breath of air, clearly struggling to breathe at your words. “Anything,” he whispers. “I’d do anything for you.”
Chris stands up and takes you with him, walking you both over to the bed where he tosses you down, still inside you. He’s standing next to the bed and you’re laid on it, legs hanging off as he hovers above you. He grabs your legs and puts one on each shoulder before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, starting to thrust into you again.
You’ve felt his dick at so many different angles tonight, each one better than the last, and this one was no different. Maybe it was the eye contact, or the words he had spoken to you seconds prior, or maybe it really was just the position you guys were in, him leaning over you and pushing your legs back as he fucked into you, you had no idea, but the way you looked up at him and he looked down at you it felt like you were the only two people in the world, and that feeling absolutely terrified you.
It didn’t take Chris long until his hips were stuttering and his moans grew louder, signaling he was close. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if all this dick was getting to your head but you moved your legs to wrap around his waist and reached up to cup his jaw, sitting up on one elbow and pulling him down to meet you, pressing your lips against his firmly, but still someone sweetly. You both parted your lips as you kissed passionately, his hips coming to a stop as he completely sheathed himself inside of you, whimpering quietly into your mouth as he came, shooting long, hot ropes of cum deep inside you.
You stroked his jaw with your thumb as he came down, pulling away and placing a final kiss on his lips, both of you just staring into each others’ eyes for a few moments, not saying a word.
You were the first to speak, giggling a bit before you did so. “What the fuck?”
Chris laughs in response, nodding his head. “Exactly my thoughts.”
-
The two of you were laid in bed, Chris on his back and you on your side, head resting on his chest as his hand that was wrapped around you trailed up and down your arm, the room completely silent apart from your breathing. You hadn’t said much after you two had finished, only moving to grab one of the hotel towels to clean up between your legs as much as you could before the two of you crawled into bed under the sheets, still completely naked, room only lit up by one lamp in the corner by the desk.
You had so much you wanted to say, so many questions to ask, but you didn’t know how, and you had no idea Chris’s mind was filled with the exact same turmoil, wanting to speak but afraid to ruin the moment.
He had to, though. He had to tell you his true feelings.
Sucking in a deep but quiet breath, he began to speak. “Sophomore year,” he started quietly. “I wanted to tell you how I felt. I had finally worked up the courage to tell you, to tell my brothers, that I had feelings for you. That I wanted to date you. I was so young but I was so sure that I wanted you. I thought you were so pretty the first time I met you at lunch freshman year but I never could get the confidence to tell you. So… I waited until I was brave enough, and I went to find you at school. I couldn’t find you anywhere and I thought maybe you had left already, even though I was pretty sure you were going to walk home with us that day, so I almost gave up and told myself to do it the next day. I decided to look one more time, and I looked everywhere. Then I found you under the bleachers kissing that fucking asshole loser Theo Mason and… my heart fucking shattered. I realized in that moment that I had waited too long and you had no idea how I felt. I was so mad at myself for thinking you’d like me back and it was that moment that made me want to hate you. So I pretended to. I thought that hating you would be easier than dealing with my real feelings. That’s also why I got so mad at dinner last week. His name just… brought up so many bad memories and the fact that he was flirting with you right in front of me and you were clearly into him and the way you said you liked his name, I-fuck.” Chris’s voice cracked, his heart pounding in his chest and he poured out all of his feelings for the first time, to anybody. “It hurt and I felt like a little kid getting rejected all over again.”
You let Chris speak, not wanting to interrupt him or scare him away. You had no idea of any of this, and his confession and raw feelings brought made your eyes water, a fat tear rolling and landing on his chest. You felt terrible that he had been feeling this way all these years and that you were completely clueless. It wasn’t your fault, you had no idea, but it just made you so sad that this all could’ve been avoided with a simple conversation.
You assumed Chris had finished, so you picked your head up and propped yourself up to stare down at him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek to caress it softly. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, making Chris shake his head.
“You didn’t know,” he responds, just as quietly. “It’s my fault.”
You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, pulling away slowly. “I liked you, too.” You tell him, almost sadly. “I thought there was no way you liked me back so when he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and kiss after school I agreed. I never knew you were there, Chris, I would’ve chosen you in a heartbeat.”
Chris sighs, rubbing your back softly as he listened to you. “I’m sorry for treating you like shit all these years. I thought hating you would be easier than loving you and even after all this time I still just want you so bad.”
You smile down at Chris, eyes sparkling as you looked at him. You felt like for the first time you were seeing Chris for who he really was, seeing the man his brothers saw and loved, seeing the little boy his mom still saw when she looked at him. You didn’t see the person that stared at you in disgust, you saw the person whose eyes softened every time you looked away from him. You saw the person who stole as many glances your way as he could. You saw a man that seemed perfect for you, and you wanted nothing more than to try with him, to give you and him a chance.
“You’ve got me,” you tell him. “However you want me, I’m yours.”
-
a/n: thanks for waiting {: I hope it was worth it.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months ago
Note
Mafia Lestappen when reader gets into a car crash
A/N: And if I add a child? Then what????? Also Monaco is a lot bigger in this fake world soooo yeah maybe twice as big as it normally is
"Mommy, sing," You baby girl giggles as you drive her home from 1st grade, you hate dropping her off there, but it was safe and good for her to socialize with other children, and with her life and who her fathers are you knew letting her be herself safely was best.
"Adie," You sigh, but you can't deny those sea green eyes as you turn up the old Disney music and start to sing with her. She giggles happily as you look in the mirror and smile, 'MOMMY!" Adeline scream rings out as you look back in front of you and gasp, before everything goes dark.
--------------------------------
"Should be home soon," Charles sighs, finally home from a long day at the office, Max trudging in behind Charles wanting to just curl up in bed with his family. "I know, I hate she goes to school, but it's best," Max grumbles, always missing his little girl and Charles was no better.
When she was younger the two of them would break her out all the time but you put your foot down, stating that school would be good for Adeline. Charles hums and pets the cats and then Leo, his dog and moves grabbing his phone as it vibrates and he smiles as picture of you and Adie pop up.
"Mon cher, when are you going to be-" "Mr. Leclerc, this is Dr. LaRouche, I'm the emergency room attending here at Grace Kelly Memorial Hospital, I have your daughter and wife here, they were in a very serious accident," Charles feels his blood run cold as he turns to stare at Max whose bent down petting his cats. "What?" Max asks, looking up.
"Charles, what is it?"
---------------------------
"I just want Mommy!" Adeline sobs, the pediatrician and nurse trying their best to calm her down. "I know sweetie, but we've called your fathers, they'll be here soon," The doors fly open as Max charges in like a bull, eyes wild before the settle on his baby girl. "ADIE!" "DADDY!" She sobs and moves as he rushes over and captures her in his arms.
"I'm here, I'm here," Max repeats as Charles collides into them holding his baby as well. "Mommy, mommy was hurt," She sobs and Max refuses to move from her side as Charles looks around their guards everywhere as the staff move carefully around them. "Someone tell me where the fuck, our wife is?" Charles ground out and a nurse stands, walking over quickly.
"You're wife and daughter were involved in a head on collision, the man was running from the cops and hit your wife. She sustained a head injury and a lacerated spleen and they needed to take her to surgery to remove the spleen as it was bleeding and unable to be repaired. You can see her in a couple hours when the surgery is over, please, just stay with your daughter," The nurse calmly explains and Max moves lying on the bed now.
"Charles," Charles turns around and sees Adie crying softer and looking at him with his own eyes. "Oh, my poor bebe, you must've been so scared. You were so brave," Charles praises softly kissing her head as Max looks over her only seeing little scratches and scruffs, the only thing that concerns him is the cut on her forehead.
"Does your head hurt my little star?" Max whispers pulling her into his lap and holding her close as Charles blocks them from the lingering eyes in the Emergency room. "Just a little, they gave me yucky medicine to help," She explains, "Papa, can I play a game on your phone?" She asks, blinking and Charles quickly gives her his phone.
"Mr. Verstappen, Mr. Leclerc?" They turn as a doctor approaches them. "Your wife is out of surgery, we can't let you in the room, but you can see her," Charles and Max move, Charles taking Adie into his arms and kisses her head gently as they walk through the stale hospital hallways and stop at your window, the sound of candy crush going low from Charles's phone.
"She's good, just sleeping, we'll continue to monitor her, but luckily her car is....military grade, if her car wasn't like that then it would be much worse," The doctor says and pats Max's back who nods as Charles squeezes Adie close unable to imagine what would've happened.
"Told you it was worth it," Max whispers and Charles sighs resting his head on his shoulder. "Not now, Max,"
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