#i love and hate this show just had to be bitter for a second

[po3tbbygirl]

We’ve built a home

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (oneshot)

desc: In a place that never felt like home, reader’s grown tired of explaining herself—until someone finally listens.

content warnings: pre-established relationship, emotional distress, crying, cultural differences.

a/n: your girlie is OUT of her home country and you can tell 😖😖 I lowk cried a lot writing this…

Italicization = foreign/your language

She hated Virginia.

She hated how far she had to drive just to get to work, wishing she could go back to the days when her commute was a simple 15-minute bus ride.

She hated how every craving for her favorite foods came with the bitter truth that she’d have to make them herself. No restaurant around here could even come close to capturing the flavors of her culture.

She hated how much of herself she had to explain to people. Why she talked the way she did. Why she did certain things that felt so natural to her but seemed strange here. She was always defending or translating her life, just to avoid being misunderstood as weird, rude, or too nice.

Her days felt heavy, and even her dream job wasn’t enough to make up for how lonely and out of place she felt. Virginia wasn’t home. It never would be. But then Spencer came along.

He was lanky, with messy brown hair and a quiet awkwardness that made her smile despite herself. At first, he was just someone she met by chance. But over time, he became the one thing that made everything easier. Brighter. Lighter.

Of course, she still had to explain some things to him—he didn’t know her culture at first. But it was different with Spencer.

When she told him she needed lime with almost every meal, he didn’t question her. Instead, he made sure their kitchen was always stocked with it. Sometimes he’d even bring home extra, just to be safe.

When after playing chess or watching movies they’d accidentally pass the 3 a.m. mark and she just had to stay up until 4 a.m. for no real reason other than luck, he stayed up with her. No complaints. No judgment.

When Christmas came, and she explained how her family celebrated—eating pork, drinking fruit punch, praying together, singing songs, and breaking piñatas—he didn’t hesitate to join in. He did everything he could to honor her traditions, even when they were completely new to him.

And when she cried while setting up the ofrendas for her loved ones who had passed, Spencer didn’t try to fix it. He simply sat beside her, holding her hand and letting her cry, showing her she wasn’t alone.

Spencer wasn’t just good to her. He was perfect for her. He made her feel understood in a way she hadn’t thought was possible.

But there were still some things even Spencer couldn’t fix—or so she thought.

౨ৎ

“Ugh,” she groaned as she walked through the door, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door.

Spencer looked up from the couch, where he’d been reading a book. He frowned, setting it aside. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

She sighed, staying silent as she kicked off her shoes and leaned against the wall. Her face looked tense, like she was fighting back tears.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said, her voice strained.

Spencer straightened, concern etched across his face. “Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

She hesitated, standing frozen in the middle of the kitchen. She looked up, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“I’m tired of explaining myself,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m tired of people staring at my food at lunch. I’m tired of explaining why I talk the way I do, why I act the way I do.” She paused, her tears falling faster now. “And I’m especially tired of people thinking I’m dumb or slow just because I need a second to find the right word. They don’t realize I’m not thinking in the language they are speaking. I’m not stupid—I just need time. But no one seems to get that, and I’m so tired of it!”

Her voice cracked as she let out a sob, her body shaking with all the emotions she had kept bottled up for so long. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s driving me crazy!”

“Love…” Spencer’s voice was soft, steady.

She froze. The sound of his voice saying that one word in her language stopped her in her tracks.

He stood from the couch, walking toward her. Her tears slowed as she watched him approach, her shock keeping her in place.

“I know it’s hard,” Spencer said, his hands gently taking hers. “I know you hurt. And it kills me to see you like this. Every time you have to explain yourself to some ignorant person who will just shut you down, who doesn’t deserve to understand you, I become the saddest man alive.”

She stared at him, the warmth of his hands grounding her as her tears continued to fall.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you this,” he said, dropping down onto both knees in front of her. “I know we have only been dating for a little over a year and know this isn’t a proposal because you deserve so much more than me kneeling in the living room in my ugly pajamas,”

Her breath hitched as she watched him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“But I promise you—no, I swear to you—that as long as you’ll have me, you’ll never have to explain yourself again. Not to me. You won’t have to feel like you need to translate your heart or your soul to me because I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep trying. All I need from you, my love, is to be you. The raw, beautiful, unfiltered version of you. And I’m ready for that. I’m ready for you.”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. No one had ever made this much effort for her before. No one had ever tried to understand her this deeply.

Without thinking, she knelt down in front of him, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry this isn’t a proposal, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Because after what you just said… I don’t think I can do anything but want to marry you.”

They both laughed through their tears, and Spencer playfully shifted onto one knee. They stayed like that for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his tone serious. “I mean it, love. From now on, if you don’t ever want to speak a word of English to me again, you don’t have to. I’m ready for that part of you. You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

Her tears flowed freely again, but this time, they were tears of joy. Relief. Love. “Spencer… thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining. “I love you.”

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[pastelclovds]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

[tojikai]

SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Sundered+ (COMMISSION)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand. 

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you. 

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead. 

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!” 

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup. 

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do. 

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did. 

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag. 

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child. 

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about. 

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you. 

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that. 

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would. 

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

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

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her. 

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen. 

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you. 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared. 

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter. 

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too. 

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family. 

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

NEXT

[valentine-cafe]

helloo! i hope you're having a good time, whatever timezone you're in. may i please order a strawberry shortcake??

(top!male!reader)

thinking about rishen and reader going home together after a party, both of them absolutely wasted, and them having really messy sex? (with hate fucking possibly?)

— 🫀 anon

˖⁺. “ fuck you harder !? ” : 

﹙ top rival male reader x bttm nerd rival ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 rishen x male reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ hero ˖ spider-moth-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ﹚

you've always had quite the rivarly with the pretty nerd of your uni. yet he has become quite bold at a party. teasing you, pressing up against you, making out with you at the bar. you just had to take him home. . . but then he just had to piss you off in the cab back home. 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ handjob ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ thigh-fucking ˖ rough sex ˖ creampie ˖ degradation ˖ messy sex ˖ hate-fucking | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: I love you so so much for this ask because rishen is suuuchhh a brat and I finally get to write about it 

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

“Y’gonna make me bend - you over my - fucking sofa, brat?”

Your fingers coil tighter around his curls as you smack him over the arm of the grey sofa. Hands delving to his thigh high stocking and feeling his soft skin before you’re shoving a hand up his skirt and curling your fingers into his red panties. Yanking them down with a force that threatens to tear them.

“Mppff,” he hiccups into the throw cushion. Smart comments that he throws you through hallways and all through tonight nowhere to be seen for the moment. Not when you grab at his cock and give a few jerks that leave his eyes fluttering.

“Yeah?” You slur.

“F-. . . Fucking slow -”

Your hand reacts on cue. Slapping his ass and jerking him further over the arm as you squeeze your palm around his tip and hear him sob. Once again submitting to your rough movements. The harsh kisses that you lather over the side of his neck and the merciless pumps of his weeping dick.

The audacity of this nerd. From riling you up at every. Waking. Moment in uni. To even now - when you have a hand up his skirt and making him leak all over your sofa.

What a bratty mouth for a damn nerd indeed.

The hand in his hair circles round his neck. You give him a harsh squeeze beneath his jaw before stuffing your fingers past his lips. Adding a new taste to his tongue bitter from alcohol. You just can’t help but fuck his mouth decorated in glossy red lipstick with your fingers. Pressing on the back of his tongue as you aggressively hump against his plush ass.

“Al’ways have - smthing to fuckin’ say.”

You huff out. The alcohol staining your own tongue. Oh you wish it was stained with his leaking precum. You feel the way he’s dripping all over your hand and it takes all of your self restraint not to remove your palm and have a taste.

But there is no way in hell that you are giving him head after he’s had a smart mouth with you all night.

Flashes of the party flicker through your haughty eyes. Of the little slut pretending he couldn’t hear you. Ignoring you. Grinding up on you on the dance floor. Tongue kissing you at the bar when you have enough of his coy bullshit.

Don’t even get you started on the ride back home. The things he said to you. “Why’re you holding back? Not packin’ big boy?”

You’ll show him small.

The sound of the belt buckle takes over the sound of his whining, pathetic moans into the cushion. When did you get two fingers in him? You’re not sure. All you know is that you are fucking him knuckles-deep. Fast. Blinding. A rotate of your wrist every few seconds to press your fingers up into that one spot that has him crying and clawing at the fabric of the sofa pathetically.

“P-P-. . . Pleasepeasepl - angh - god pleeaaaseee -”

His hips are rocking back into your hand so needily. How can you not shove your pants down and stumble around in the process. Suck in a breath and blink a few times to rid the haze and colourful spots in your vision. His thighs will sober you right up - is what you tell yourself.

So you release his cock and hiss in his ear when he whines at you. “Be patient. Whore.” Another smack to his thigh for good measure. A tint to his bronze skin. You can’t wait to paint it with cum instead.

Air fills your lungs as you suck in another breath to keep yourself steady. Pump at your own cock and bite your lip at the throb of your tip. For a second you forget that you’re finger-fucking him. You so desperately wish to just push in and fuck him raw. But your pettiness, somehow, outweighs your neediness to feel his tight ass throbbing around your cock.

Instead you pull your fingers out completely. Spread his thighs out and spit on his fluttering rim when he tries to complain. Your nails dig into his soft flesh as a warning before you are slipping your dick between the small gap you created. A hitch of breath from the both of you when your tip drags over the underside of his balls.

There’s a beat of silence. Both of you relishing in the sensation that makes your tips pulse with the threat of precum.

Until your rough hands squish his thighs together. Hurriedly snap your hips against him. There’s a plap of skin. Leaking all over - but the only friction Rishen can taste is the drag of your dick against his occasionally as you fuck is thighs instead of him.

You can almost hear his offense in his whines. The way that he tries to buck his hips back into you. You see the small wet patch of his drool all over the cushion; and let out a bark of laughter. Your hand returns to hook around his hair. Yank his head up and smack your hips against him as though you are fucking him sore.

Oh he’s sore alright. Cock pulsing. Glistening with his need. The slick that catches on your tip and draws a few grunts from your lips and tightened jaw.

“Fucking whore. Not even in yet.”

But it’s torture to you too. You ache to fuck him full. Teach him a lesson. Make him cream himself all over your sheets until he won’t be able to even look at you the next time you cross paths in the uni hallway.

The room swirls. Colours mixing in a confusing haze. All you remember is the softness of the mattress. The plush of his body. The way he thrashed into the bed and sobbed so desperately into the sheets once you bullied your cock into his tight ass. Stretch him out as you hold him down with two firm hands on his thighs. Shoved down onto his tummy and helpless. Unable to do anything but take you.

Everything is spinning. The scent of alcohol and sex burns your nostrils. But nothing compares to the sweet cherry perfume that fills your senses when you reach down to latch your teeth onto his neck. Your dizzy head centers around the combination of the headboard banging into the wall and his helpless, slutty moans.

“P-Pl- nghh fuck - fuckfpleaas- h-hngah-!”

It’s a slew of English, Spanish and gibberish. One that draws grunts from your lips. The tequila from earlier pales in comparison to the intoxicating affect that his moans have you. Your hips respond in tandem. Rapidly smacking into his ass as you hold him against the sheets with a lazy strength.

For a moment you pull away from abusing his neck with your hickeys and bites. In favour of watching the way his poor little hole takes you - again, again - and again.

Suddenly you are drunk on the sight of ripples through his flesh. The obvious plap plap plap of his skin with every rough cram of your hips against his. And most importantly. . . how the big-mouthed nerd struggles to take you after all that smart talk.

“Is it still small?” The hiss seeps through your clenched teeth. Your fingers join the venom and clutch at his hips to hold him still as you slowly draw out. Groan at the sight of slick stringing to your tip from his fluttering hole.

A slew of pitiful moans is the only answer. The irritation and hurt pride from earlier swells through you and you twist his smaller body around. Snatch his jaw and shove his face into sheets as you ram back into his awaiting walls. All the way so that you can fuck hard and fast against that spot that his eyes rolling back.

“Is.”

slam.

“It.”

slam!

“Small?”

Another squirt of his cum that shoots to his abdomen. His needy sobs drown out as your hips jam into his. Slotting so perfectly while your other hand grips at his thigh and makes sure it is wide open for your rabid pounding.

“N-No - no -nonoo angh - i-it’s not - snotitssnooott fuuckk,” he manages to slur and hiccup into the sheets as you let lose on his poor ass. You don’t care how many times he’s splurted his messy cum all over. The drunken, mindless need to prove a point drives your stamina to the max as your hands roam all over.

If they aren’t in his hair. It’s down his sides. Yanking on his thighs so that he’s forced back down into your blinding thrusts. Oh you love the way his eyes cross at that. If not that then you are pinching at his pierced nipples. Or rubbing over the piercing on his dick that glistens with his numerous releases.

“Mhhm.”

The hum is low in your throat. Thumb slowly stroking along the silver bar that makes his poor dick squirt all over again. A perfect contrast to your pace that has refused to halt since you stumbled haphazardly into your dim bedroom.

“Tha’s what I though. Yeah. Take it all f’me.”

You bite down on your lip at the sight of him. Thighs hooked over your hips. Fingers coiled into the sheets above him. His lips parted and eyes rolled back

His hand moves to grab at your arm. Eyes rolling back into his skull, while another orgasm is ripped out of him. Like the feral animal you are, you eat it all up.

“F—Fu—ck-k!” He whines and shivers. tongue out and head rolling around to every thrust. And as you set your pace to an extra few notches up, you feel yourself growing a bit sloppy as his tight hole squeezes around you.

The both of you were made for one another. You didn’t doubt it one second with how he took you.

Slowly, the frantic slapping of skin against skin began losing it’s rhythm. Plapping out into the room and melting into the walls as your own, last, orgasm rushed to your abdomen. Cum staining the poor boy’s ass.

“S— ‘S that- hahh what you like?” You pant in his ear, groaning, while you collapse down upon him. Hips still grinding slowly into his needy hole.

“N-no-morreee— No puedo mááááááás.” The whine reaches your ears quick. He’s had enough. Why not give him a break and let him catch up. Until the both of you are ready to fuck again later?

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[itneverendshere]

for bitchy pogue reader I'd love some actual introductions to Topper and Kelce after the golf course, they can be huge assholes but we've seen a nicer side to both of them. So Rafe trying to see if group hanging out *is* possible, and it's probably very weird but maybe it works out?

it's not working out just yet....but maybe! soon! thank you for the request💗

get your head in the game

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you think you had too many shots before leaving the house.

alright, so maybe the vodka was overkill. maybe. but you knew you’d need a little courage to pull off this top that’s basically a vague suggestion of a shirt. the whole thing's simple math—tight skirt, low-cut top, a flick of lip gloss, and, boom, everyone else is irrelevant.

if you wanted, you could have any guy here eating out of the palm of your hand. so why the fuck did you dress thinking about rafe when you’re supposed to distance yourself from that asshole? no idea.

the bonfire’s huge tonight, lighting up all the faces you couldn’t care less about.

you can feel him, hovering somewhere nearby. he’s in that faded sweatshirt he always wears when it’s colder out, the one that smells like salt and smoke and way too many of your bad nights. mister pouty face himself, sulking around the fire, watching you with this look that says he knows he messed up but doesn’t even know where to start patching things over.

you turn your back on him for the millionth time that night, let your hips sway just a little extra, knowing he’s watching. yeah, you’re putting on a show, all right—flicking your hair, laughing louder than you need to. 

you’re just reaching for a beer when you feel hands slide around your waist, and you almost jump out of your skin, but then you catch that familiar, maddening scent of his and your body goes all traitorous, leaning back against him before you snap out of it.

"jesus,” you’re already twisting out of his clasp, turning around, and there he is, standing like he didn’t just sneak up on you with those stupid blue eyes and that stupid, lopsided grin. 

you want to shove him away, but he’s got that look, like he’s begging for a chance without saying a word, and you hate how much it gets to you.

your head had been a mess since that day at the golf course.

“what do you want?” you ask, arms crossed, brows up, giving him that full-on don’t mess with me look.

“to talk,” he’s close, way too close, looking down at you like he’s trying to read every little twitch of your face as if he can just stand there and make things better by breathing the same air.

his hands are still hovering around your waist, like he’s waiting for permission to touch you again. part of you wants to let him, but you just narrow your eyes, tilting your chin.

“aren’t you afraid your little friends are gonna see you?” you edge him on, “talking to a pogue?”

“don’t start,” he says, you can see the pleading in his eyes as he reaches for your waist again, fingertips brushing your hip, like he can’t stand not touching you for another second.

“why not?”

he winces, dropping his hand back to his side, and it’s almost pathetic, how he’s just standing there, not even pretending to defend himself. “i—c’mon, i already apologized—”

you roll your eyes, not trying to hide the smirk pulling at your lips. 

“apologized?” you let out a bitter laugh, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “oh, yeah, that makes up for all the times you acted like i didn’t exist.”

his face crumples, and you can see him struggling, his hand drifting toward your hip again, but he hesitates like he’s afraid he’s about to get slapped away.

it’s almost sad, mr. big shot practically pussy-whipped.

“c’mon, don’t do this,” he murmurs, stepping closer until you can feel the warmth of him. his fingertips ghost along your bare arm, like he’s desperate just to feel you. 

you scoff, leaning back against the cooler, crossing your arms in front of you as his hand slides to your waist, bold and pleading all at once. his touch is warm, and you hate how your body responds like it’s a prayer, like you've been waiting all night for him to finally show up.

“there’s some people i want you to meet.”

his thumb brushes the skin just above your waistband, and he’s so close you can feel his breath against your cheek.

“what?” you huff in annoyance, lifting your chin up as he inches closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

you feel his thumb grazing your skin back and forth, his lips so close you can taste the desperation in his breath.

perhaps it’s the vodka, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you but you feel yourself softening, just a little, against your will.

“my friends.”

you didn’t hear him right. 

his friends? the same friends who wouldn’t even look at you if you walked past them in town? the same friends he’d all but hid you from for months?

“what?” you ask, slower this time, more disbelief than anything, and you tilt your head up to get a better look at him. 

he’s got that kicked puppy look in his eyes, and you’re not even sure what to make of it.

this is rafe cameron, the guy who wouldn’t be caught dead with you outside the bedroom, now practically begging to introduce you to his kook buddies?

“i want them to know,” his voice trails off, “i want them to know ‘m with you.”

“with me?” you repeat, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “since when?”

this can’t be real—this can’t be the same rafe who couldn’t even look you in the eye outside his house three months ago.

“i told you, the other day at the golf course.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid, “you mean, when you went alpha on those little frat boys?”

“i saved you from them, okay.” 

you’re seconds away from outright laughter when he just keeps looking at you with those fucking pleading eyes, that hand grazing your cheek in a way that should be soft but instead feels like he’s trying to imprint himself into your skin.

why the fuck is this so endearing to you.

he sounds almost earnest—almost. but you’re not giving him an inch, not after months of him acting like he didn’t know your name outside of his bedroom. 

“what do you mean, ‘saved me’?” you raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “saved me from what? a little attention?”

rafe lets out a rough exhale, glancing down with a frustrated shake of his head.

“they were hitting on you,” he mutters, his hand tightening on your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of every single inch of his hold on you. “and ‘m not gonna stand around and watch some asshole get his hands all over what’s mine.”

mine?  he’s really lost it. 

“country club, i don’t know if you hit your head golfing and this is some post-head trauma hallucination, but ‘mine’ implies you want something more than whatever the fuck this is.” you motion between the two of you, throwing a hand up in exasperation.

“why don’t you ever call me by my name?” he grumbles, just like he did the other day on the golf course. he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “except when—”

your mouth drops open. is he serious? this shit again?

“except when what?” you glare at him as you swat his chest. 

he’s got that smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“you only call me rafe when,” his voice drops deliciously, and he leans in close, eyes half-lidded and fixed on your lips. “…when ’m inside you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, smacking his chest again, but he doesn’t move. instead, his smirk grows as he catches your wrist and holds it, letting his fingers trace over your knuckles.

before you can retort, there’s a loud cackle from behind you.

you turn, and there they are: topper and kelce, both looking like they’ve stumbled into a parallel universe.

“whoa, what’s this?” topper’s smirk is almost as wide as rafe’s. “didn’t know our boy here had himself a—” he raises his eyebrows, letting the word hang with a smug twist of his mouth. kelce snickers, crossing his arms, eyes darting between you and rafe.

you’re already huffing, half-prepared to watch rafe put on his usual bad boy with daddy issues mask, toss out some stupid excuse, or worse—let them think you’re just a fucking hole to him.

rafe gives your waist an extra squeeze, fingers pressing into your side as if he’s staking a claim.

“this,” he says, clearing his throat like he’s about to announce something official, “is my girlfriend.”

you blink, utterly thrown, and from the look on their faces, topper and kelce are right there with you, both staring at rafe like he’s just grown an extra head.

“your what?” kelce sputters out, eyes widening, clearly expecting the punchline.

you open your mouth to say something snarky, make some joke out of this whole ridiculous scene, but rafe’s fingers are tracing slow, warm circles against your hip and you can’t think straight to save your life.

god, old you would’ve ridiculed yourself for being putty in the hands of a kook of all people. 

“girlfriend,” he repeats, like he’s spelling it out just for them. “want you both to meet her.”

you swear kelce’s jaw drops, while topper lets out a low, incredulous laugh. tweedledum and tweedledee at their best.

“you’re serious,” topper mutters, giving you a once-over and shaking his head in disbelief. “i thought she was just a—”

“yeah, ’m serious,” rafe cuts in, his tone brooking no argument.

you must’ve missed the part where you two talked about this thing like adults and he proceeded to ask you. 

“your what?” you bite out, as you try to wrench his arm away, but his grip only tightens, he’s prepared for a full-on wrestle if it keeps you there.

“hey—will you just stay here?” he murmurs, voice low enough that it’s just for you. 

you’d throw something at him if you could. you yank his hand away anyway, tearing yourself free from his grip. “stay? are you kidding?”

you’re already storming off into the crowd, but you still hear kelce behind you, their voices , “that went well.”

rafe curses under his breath, but you just keep walking, not looking back, even as you can feel him running after you, those long legs of his making it easy to catch up.

“wait! seriously, wait!”

 like hell you’re going to let him off the hook so easily.

“not happening!” you shout over your shoulder. 

you could turn around and give him one last piece of your mind, but a part of you knows it’ll only lead to more hurt feelings—yours or his. you push through a group of people huddled around the bonfire, and it’s only when you reach the edge of the beach that you finally stop, trying to catch your breath.

“why do you always do this?” rafe’s voice comes from behind you. you don’t turn around, knowing that if you see that look on his face, you might just give in.

“do what?” you shoot back, crossing your arms defensively.

“run away,” he almost whines, taking a step closer, and you can hear the frustration in the way his throat tightens up, “you never give me a chance to explain.”

“explain what? that you want me to be your girlfriend when two weeks ago, you couldn’t even look at me in front of your friends?” you spin to face him, “this is ridiculous.”

rafe opens his mouth, probably to defend himself, but the look on your face shuts any attempt down.

“i asked you to stay.”

you groan, itching to pull your hair out, “what are you talkin’ about?”

“that night, i asked you to stay.”

“and proceeded to ignore me the next day, yes, i’m well fuckin’ aware.”

you want him to feel a sliver of what he’s put you through, but he just steps closer, almost like he’s trying to coax you back.

“i was trying to figure things out,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. “it’s not easy, alright?”

“were you incredibly tortured by the thought of letting your friends know you were slumming it with a ‘pogue’? please.”

“what, you really think i don’t care about you?” he’s pleading now, his face just inches from yours. “because if you don’t know that by now, then i don’t know what else i can do.”

you laugh bitterly. Is he actually serious?

“you can grow a fucking pair. where was this brave, ‘caring’ version of you last week? or the week before that?” you throw a hand up, trying to make him see how obvious this all is. “when you could’ve just acted like a man and told your friends instead of pretending i was some embarrassing secret.”

“’m trying to fix that,” he says, his desperate, “right here, right now.”

“and ’m supposed to just forget the way you treated me all those times?”

“can you just let me try to be better?”

you swallow, biting your lip. he’s closer now, and you can smell that familiar cologne and saltwater.

“it’s gonna take more than a few pretty words.”

“i know,” he says, nodding like he’s promising you something. “that’s why i want you to meet my friends, why i want them to know ’m with you.” his fingers finally, lace with yours, and he looks down at your hands, “i want to do this right.”

you stare down at his hand in yours, and for a second, yeah, your heart stutters, betraying every ounce of pride you’ve tried to keep intact through this whole mess.

this is rafe we’re talking about. kook royalty, king of mixed signals, the guy who’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, especially when his boys are watching. the guy smells good, he looks like sin, and he’s saying all the things you’ve wanted to hear since day one.

a few weeks ago, you’d have laughed at the idea of ever feeling anything real for him. you, a pogue with a mouth on you, and him, a kook with daddy issues and an ego bigger than his bank account. but here you are, letting him pull this romantic shit on you.

is he actually worth all this? you could do better; you know that.

you could have someone who doesn’t make you feel like an option, someone who’s not constantly forcing you to guess what the hell he wants.

the real question is, do you actually believe he’s gonna change? or is this just another moment of him saying whatever he has to so he doesn’t lose the convenience of you?

you huff, half-scoffing, half-sighing, because honestly, maybe he does sound genuine for once, and maybe a part of you wants to believe him so badly you could actually throw your whole life away. 

“prove it then,” you say it like you’re daring him. “day by day. if you’re serious, you’ll show me. and you’ll handle your idiot friends in the process.”

“deal.”

you raise a brown, “you’re not gonna think about it?”

he shrugs, “nothin’ to think about.”

you roll your eyes, because that line should be cheesy, but it lands. he really has no right to be this good at disarming you with a few well-placed words. and the worst part? he knows it. 

“can i kiss you?”

of course he'd say something like that. of course, after all the back-and-forth, the pushing and pulling, he’d just stand there and ask to kiss you like everything’s solved.

you sigh, tilting your head like you’re seriously considering it. "you think a kiss is gonna make me forget every dumb shit you did?"

he smirks, all cocky confidence, but he knows he’s on thin ice. “nah, but i figured it’d be a start.”

you almost hate him for making it sound so tempting, you wish it didn't feel this good to be wanted.

you shake your head, resisting the impulse to let him off easy, but how he’s looking at you… ugh. you can’t help it, you’re thinking with your pussy at this point.

"fine," you say, trying to sound annoyed even as your heart's practically pounding out of your chest. "one kiss, no tongue.”

his mouth actually drops open, and he's staring at you like you’ve just told him he can only have one fry out of the whole basket.

"no tongue?" he repeats, eyebrows practically hitting his hairline. he's doing this thing where his mouth opens and closes like he’s a fucking fish, "wait, please—what do you mean, no tongue?"

you only just manage to keep a straight face, because fuck, this is killing him, and it’s almost cute.

"exactly what i said," you nodd, crossing your arms with this wicked little smirk. "you wanted a kiss. you get one.”

he’s looking at you like you insulted his entire lineage, "c’mon, just a little tongue. you know you wann—"

“absolutely not,” you wrinkle your nose, laughing as you cut him off. maybe you do, but this is way more fun, watching him squirm.

“fine,” he groans, moving in close, the glint in his eye tells you he’s about to break all the rules the second he’s got you there. he leans in, almost sulking, and you feel him press a single, very tame, very tongue-free kiss to your lips, “so... no tongue later either? when ’m between your legs? 'cause i’d hate to break your rules.”

son of a bitch.

it’s useless to act unaffected when he’s looking at you like that.

“pull that shit again, rafe, and you’re getting blue balls for the next month.”

he looks scandalized, that smirk dropping as he watches you with wide, pleading eyes. “you wouldn’t.”

“play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

his jaw drops a little like he can’t decide whether to laugh or fall to his knees and beg for mercy. “you’re seriously cruel, y’know that?”

“course i do.”

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically

☆word count: 7.3k

☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 4th  

You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook. 

Just a friend from high school…

You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.

You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…

It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.

Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.

Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.

Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?

You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.

As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.

[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight

You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…

Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.

You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.

You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.

And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,

[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time

You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.

You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.

It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?

What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?

Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.

There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.

You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.

You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.

It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity. 

You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…

It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying. 

You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.

You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.

[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy

It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?

Was it all just a nightmare?

You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.

[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever

You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…

You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.

When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.

Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.

He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.

The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.

“Hey,” he greets you.

You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.

His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”

You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes?” he lets out.

He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.

“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.

“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”

“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”

Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.

“Nothing happened,” he tries.

But he doesn’t meet your gaze.

“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Peach…”

You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.

“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”

He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.

“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.

You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”

A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.

“I really thought…” 

You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.

“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”

“But you did!”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.

“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it. 

You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.

“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.

“Peach…”

“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”

“Excuse me?”

Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”

“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”

“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.

“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”

“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”

You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.

You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”

“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”

“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.

You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down. 

“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”

You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.

“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.

Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.

“Peach, please.”

“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”

“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.

It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.

“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.

“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.

You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you. 

Not after last night.

“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.

You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.

But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?

“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Peach…”

“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.

You can’t afford him calling you that.

He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”

You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.

You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?

You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.

*****

The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.

You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.

You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.

You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.

“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.

“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.

“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.

In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?

“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.

You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.

You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.

It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.

You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.

If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.

You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.

“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.

Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.

“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.

You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Jacob.”

She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”

You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again. 

“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”

And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.

After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.

She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.

You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.

Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs. 

You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”

You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”

Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.

She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”

You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.

You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom. 

The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.

“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.

She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”

You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”

Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”

And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.

Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.

Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left. 

This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.

It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.

You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.

It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.

It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.

You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.

“Shit,” you let out.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.

“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”

“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“I want to go home,” you tell her.

She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.

“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.

But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.

She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.

It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.

You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.

Tuesday, May 7th 

You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.

He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane. 

You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.

[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos

You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.

You reckon that might make you a bad person.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning. 

You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.

You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.

“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”

He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.

She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.

As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.

As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.

It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.

What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.

You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”

Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”

You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

You shrug. “Just wondering.”

Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.

The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.

You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches. 

It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.

“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.

“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.

Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.

“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”

Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true. 

You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.

“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”

You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.

It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.

You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.

Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.

All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.

They’re haunting your own eyes, too.

“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.

Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.

Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.

“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”

Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”

“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…

You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes. 

You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.

You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.

He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”

You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest. 

Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”

You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”

She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”

“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”

She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”

You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.

You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment. 

You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.

There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…

Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.

Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward. 

He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.

Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed. 

It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.

Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook

Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.

You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.

You take a deep breath in, and though it’s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.

You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.

Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant. 

The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.

Prev | Chapter 12.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[ellabscrush]

— play with my pussy, not my heart.

a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!

sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”

she caresses your face and pecked your lips.

nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.

i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?

“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.

“that’s my best girl.”

besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.

three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.

nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.

abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.

“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.

“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”

nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”

you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.

sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.

“fuck me..” you muttered.

“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.

you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.

“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.

three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.

abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”

“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.

“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’

you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”

you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.

she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.

“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.

“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled

abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”

“trying?” you looked up.

the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”

she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.

abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!

“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”

.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.

the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.

“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”

you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”

she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.

your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”

the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.

“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”

“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.

her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.

you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.

you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.

“faster,” you demanded.

she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.

“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”

“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”

abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.

the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.

maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?

“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.

“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.

abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.

you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.

“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”

abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.

“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”

her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.

“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”

“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.

an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.

“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.

“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”

“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.

you know how that goes..

once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.

“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”

abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.

“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.

of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.

well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

[bbydoll18xx]

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

When Paige falls apart, you are there to pick up the pieces.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Based on this request

Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

Themes: fluff and comfort !

A/N: this request was so cute!! As an eldest daughter and a nurse, it's ingrained in me to be a caregiver, and I show my love through acts of service so this was so fun to write. Hope you lovelies enjoy!

~

Paige had always prided herself on being a tough girl. It was ingrained into her soul to be a leader, and even more so, it was ingrained into her to take care of everyone around her. So when you had started dating her, you immediately were treated to the princess treatment.

As an eldest daughter yourself, you had appreciated someone taking care of you for once, but you knew the effects of having too much on your plate. It was draining, and so you had vowed to help Paige hold up the weight of her world. 

You were always there. 

You baked her cookies when you knew she was having a rough day. You were always there to listen when she was feeling the pressure from the rest of the team. And your kisses were basically magic, bringing life back into the blonde.

~

You hum to yourself as you walk through the door of Paige’s apartment, unable to deny the bubbling giddiness in your chest at the thought of seeing your girlfriend. 

You had been dating for two years, and while the two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, the overwhelming excitement of her had yet to fade. 

Slipping through the door, you creep through the apartment on light feet, trying to avoid foiling your surprise. Paige wasn’t expecting you, and with the craziness of the basketball season now in full swing and your own work and school schedule, you hadn’t seen her in several days. 

It fucking sucked, but that was life, and now you had cleverly hatched a plan to sneak into Paige’s room during her beloved afternoon nap time and surprise her with your presence. 

A sound cuts through the quiet apartment and a pang cuts through your chest. Paige was sobbing behind the closed door of her room. It shatters your heart, and you gasp, frozen in place for a second, trying to decide whether you should go comfort her or leave her be. 

Paige was a strong girl. She loved protecting her friends and teammates. And she was no doubt an exceptional leader. So when she had her moments of weakness and vulnerability, she hated others to see it. 

You were really the only exception. Your warmth and nurturing disposition coaxed her out of the protective shell she had used to shield herself from the coldness of the media and the unyielding bitterness of those who doubted her. 

Biting your lip, you quietly knock on the door, your voice gentle, as you call out to her. “Paige, baby? Can I come in?”

You hear her sniffle, quickly trying to clear the thick tearfulness out of her own voice.

“I need you,” is all she says. 

Your heart drops into your stomach, and the overwhelming need to just make everything better consumes you, and you pull open the door to quickly get to your girlfriend. 

Paige is laying in her bed, and you can clearly see the tear stains below her red-rimmed eyes, clouding the clear blueness of them. Your eyes flit to see Twitter open on her iPad, and you connect the dots. 

She had gotten sucked into the hate comments again, and it was getting to her. 

Anger and concern rushes through your veins, but you take a deep breath. Now was not the time to lose your own shit. You had a pretty girl in front of you who needed you to make her feel better. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“Oh, baby. What happened?” You whisper, sitting on the bed next to her and soothingly stroking her cheek, brushing away the tears that remained. 

Paige sniffles, leaning into your touch, as if it provided all the comfort that she needed. “Had a bad practice. And then I saw a hate tweet. Just spiraled from there.” Her voice cracks, and the tears in her eyes pool again, threatening to overflow. 

With your free hand, you pull the iPad away from her, trying to make sure she can’t subject herself to the disgusting stream of vitriol spewing from it. You lay down next to her, pulling her into your chest, letting her melt into you. The tension seeps out of her, as she cuddles into your side, welcoming your presence. 

Stroking her hair, you whisper sweet words of encouragement and love into her ear, and it’s not long before her sniffles come to a grinding halt.

Paige lets out a quiet breath and sits up, facing you. She looks sheepish, as if she’s embarrassed by her emotions. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” she chuckles, trying to make a joke out of it. 

“Hey,” you say, bringing a hand to rest against the smooth skin of her face. “You don’t have to apologize for getting upset over something like that. I’m your girlfriend. I want to be able to make you feel better.” You poke her in the belly as you emphasize your point, and she grins. 

And while you were not the one who was necessarily hurting in those moments, seeing the person you loved most, break down in tears over people’s vile words, broke you, too.

But Paige’s smile was like sunshine on the grayest day. And things were going to be alright. 

Paige reaches out to entwine her fingers with yours, making a mental note of how perfectly they fit together. Her eyes move from your gentle fingers up to your eyes, seeing how bright they shined when looking back into hers. 

And when you later fall asleep, curled up in Paige’s comforting warmth, your girlfriend fights the sleep out of her own eyes, preferring to admire the innocence and goodness seeping out of your being. 

You were two girls born having to provide for everyone around you, who found a home in each other, taking on the weight together. 

Because sometimes you just can't make it on your own. 

And that's okay.

~

Woo this took forever and i kinda hate this but thank you for reading! My inbox is always open for more requests!

xoxo katy

[ssahotchnerr]

Jack still sort of maintaining a relationship with Roy the first few years after Haley dies (Aaron thought it was important to maintain those connections for Jack even tho it hurt Aaron to do 😭 it was easy with Jess who he loves but SUCKED with Roy) but he gets extremely exclusionary once Ellie is born. Him being like “I will spend time with MY grandson who belonged to MY daughter but I will not be wasting my time, energy, and money on a child you’ve had with another woman. A child who – might I point out – would not have been born if you stayed married to my daughter and didn’t get her killed in the first place.”

Aaron being pissed on Ellie’s behalf (and his feelings are hurt tbh) and you being pissed on both of their behalfs. But, unexpectedly, Hc that Jack overheard this conversation and basically says to Aaron the next time Roy wants to take him somewhere (Aaron didn’t want to make HIM feel bad on top of everything else by banning him from seeing his grandfather, so he was gonna let him go), “I don’t want to spend time with grandpa Roy if he’s gonna be mean to Ellie. Thank you, but I’ll stay here.” SUCH A GOOD BIG BROTHERRRRR you and Aaron are so proud 🥺❤️

OHHH MY GOD??

roy just completely refuses to acknowledge that ellie exists 😭

it happened right from the start: when aaron shared the two of you were expecting, roy brushed it off, muttering something incoherently in response. after she's born, aaron invites him over for family dinners, he refuses to come. he's invited to ellie's first, second, third birthday party, doesn't come. every time he comes over, he acts like he's never seen her before. disregarding her completely.

it becomes very clear very fast that he wants to spend time with jack and jack only. as much as aaron hates to admit it, in a way, he understands. roy's bitter about what happened to haley, so this was somewhat expected. it's a different situation that's hard to navigate - ellie isn't related to him, so if roy doesn't want to bring her along to places, whatever, aaron's not going to force roy to do anything. the issue is what an issue it is. how ellie is being treated.

it's more of a problem when ellie is a bit older, and wants to tag along with jack wherever he goes. she just wants to be included 🥺 sweet ellie simply says hi when roy comes over to pick up jack, he ignores her. the next time, she draws him a picture, and he doesn't accept it.

aaron gently confronts him, and that's when roy brings up haley and how this child is a disgrace to her. imagine he full-on admits he wishes she never existed?? 😭 ellie's a product of what happened to haley, he'll never forgive aaron for getting her killed, so he'll never accept this child's existence. she shouldn't exist.

that angers aaron and he starts going off - ellie is a part of this family, whether you like it or not. and fine, you don't have to love her (saying that SHATTERS aaron's heart) but do not treat her like she's nothing. aaron won't let that stand.

it starts a huge argument 🥺 roy refuses speak to aaron, except when it comes to arranging his time with jack, and the conversation is very short at that. he doesn't speak much to you either (never has). again in his eyes - you're haley's replacement. jack's new "mom"

and it's especially sad because ellie knows about haley too :( - not the story, but the simple, good things: jack has another mommy, she's not here with us anymore but you can talk to her with a candle. haley has never been a avoided topic in the house, she's encouraged. and so ellie loves haley in her own way :( so to call her a disgrace in haley's name?? when she's also keeping haley's memory alive? :((((

you feel awful. you know how hurt aaron is but he doesn't allow himself to show it. he hates talking about it, and he's always in a mood whenever roy's with jack. you feel awful for your daughter who doesn't know what's going on. you feel awful for jack who's taking an unnecessary weight on his shoulders in terms of this too.

ellie's confused and upset, this is the first person who's ever shown her unkindness. aaron gently tries to explain, but also, how do you explain this to a toddler? so he simply apologizes and scoops her up into his arms and holds her close :( he feels awful, and as if he's failing her in someway. this is "his fault", isn't it? 😭

so if roy's taking jack out, aaron or you, or both combined, take ellie out for the day to do something fun. or try to keep jack heading out on the down-low. it sucks, you still both encourage jack to spend time with his grandfather - maintaining that important relationship - even though it's exceedingly complicated behind the scenes.

and jack, being the sweet sensitive kid he is, picks up on the tension immediately. and he's torn 🥺 he wants to appease his grandfather, knows what he's doing isn't right, but also doesn't want to betray his little sister, letting behavior like this continue. he feels guilty :( he takes the initiative and brings it up to roy himself, asking if ellie can come with them someday, like to the zoo or to a movie. but roy's pretty level-headed and his mind is made up - absolutely no ellie.

so jack gets really upset :( he gets home one day and cries about it :((( you're trying to console him, as is aaron (who's close to tears himself), and ellie wanders over :( she gets sad whenever jack is sad :( and while she has no idea what's going on exactly, she just buries herself right up into jack's side as he's crying. to comfort him too 🥺🫶🏻

overall it's a reallyyyy messy situation, one that you can only hope resolves with time :(

[moonlightazriel]

Taken /// Azriel X F!Reader X Cassian

Summary: Azriel doesn't notice what he had until he lost it. Inspired by Taken from One Direction.

Warnings: Angst and smut!

Word Count: 3,1K

Notes: I don't plan to write a second part for this and if you want to blame someone for the angst, it's all @fieldofdaisiies fault for encouraging me...

Main Masterlist

For centuries she loved him, what started with a silly crush, developed to love with time. She was always there for him, waiting until he felt what she felt, loved her the way she loved him, but for centuries she waited for crumbs of his attention, he wouldn’t even spare a glance in her direction, barely giving a thought about her.

She learned to live with the constant pain and yearning, nurturing a little spark of hope in the depths of her heart, that maybe, if she showed him enough affection and loved him from afar, something would change and he would finally notice her the way she wanted to. But that never happened. 

He never looked at her with love and admiration, never reached out for her to know how she was doing, never took a liking in her interests and who she was outside her job as a emissary, that was all she was to him and all she ever was going to be, someone invisible, unworthy of his time and attention. 

She knocked on his door, slightly shaking, for some time now the thought of talking to him left her nervous, the comfort she felt whenever she was around him slowly vanishing and leaving the bitter taste of indifference behind. He commanded her in, and as she pushed the  door open, she spotted him on his desk, papers scattered around and a steaming mug of tea on the side. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Az.” She managed to talk past the lump on her throat, feeling that she was disturbing him. He looked at her, dull annoyed eyes, that feeling in the pit of her stomach only intensified. 

“What do you want?” His voice was cold, without the warmth and kindness he reserved for the others in the inner circle. 

“I need to get some papers for Rhys in the city, can you fly me there? No one is home and I can’t go..” She hated it, without wings and the ability to winnow, she was completely dependent on others to help her to get out of the House of Wind.

“I’m busy now, wait for me and I'll take you later.” He said with a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in clear annoyance for her interruption, and she just nodded, whispering a quick thank you and rushing away from him. 

She sat at the library, waiting for him, the clock on the wall changing as the time slowly passed by, ten minutes, half an hour, two hours, five hours, until she was almost sleeping against the arm of the comfortable chair, her book falling from her hands and startling her up with the noise. 

She looked at the clock once again, realising she was waiting for him almost all day, those papers were important and Rhys really needed them, so she got up, fixing her hair in a ponytail and heading for the 10,000 steps that would take her to the city. 

One hour later, she rested her hands against her knees, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose, she tried to catch her breath, her whole body felt rigid and no matter how much she trained, those steps were always cruel to anyone. After recomposing herself, she started her journey towards the small library hidden in Velaris.

Her heart sank when she walked past the street market, in one of the stands, leaning against the counter and clearly flirting with the pretty female on the other side, Azriel. She held her breath, feeling anger rising inside of her, he was already going into town, and he couldn’t even remember her? Was she that insignificant to him?

She didn’t know if he saw her or if his shadows alerted him, all she could see was his wide eyes as they locked with hers, he made a move to walk in her direction but she was quicker, pushing through the bodies and walking away from him.

It didn’t hurt seeing him with her, like it did so many times in the past whenever he flirted with someone in front of her, it hurt how inconsiderate he was. Her heart thrummed in her chest, breaking away the little hope that was left. Nothing, that’s all they would ever be, and for once, that thought didn’t break her, it encouraged her to move forwards. She pushed through the doors with a renewed confidence, she would be okay.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You don’t plan on climbing those, do you?” A voice startled her as she eyed the steps that would bring her home, she had quickly dropped the papers off, apologising profusely for the delay, to which Rhys just said it was fine. 

“How else am I supposed to go up there?” She turned to Cassian, by the looks of it, it looked like he had just arrived from the week long trip to the Illyrian war camps. 

“Maybe a very strong friend of yours can carry you.” Amusement glinted in those eyes. She smiled at him.

“You must be tired, Cass.” He indeed looked tired, bags underneath his eyes that usually weren’t there, his wings a little slumped and his hair dishevelled. 

“Never too tired to have a pretty female pressed up against me.” He winked at her and she felt her cheeks getting hotter under his gaze, he had always been like this, always flirting and making her flustered, she always took it as a part of his bright personality. 

“Yeah, I could definitely use a ride now.” The thought of climbing all those steps again somehow sounded worse than before.

“Hop on, gorgeous.” He sneaked his arms underneath her legs and supported her back, while she clung to his neck with both arms, feeling the wind on her face as he made the short flight up to the House. 

“Hey, are you hungry?” she asked as the two landed and headed inside. “I made some pie, I saved some pieces before Rhysand and Morrigan ate the whole thing.” She giggled and Cassian nodded.

“I would love to.” He gave a very loud kiss on her temple. “Your food is the best.” He moved towards his room while she went to the kitchen. Searching the fridge for the piece she had saved for Azriel, but he didn’t even bother to eat, he probably wouldn’t care now. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry for today.” His voice sounded behind her, she was bent inside the fridge, snatching the pie and turning to him, he eyed the pie in her hands, remembering her telling something about saving him some. “Oh, I’m not hungry, I ate in the city.”

“This isn’t for you.” She quickly replied in a monotone voice, anger still warming her insides. Azriel flinched at her tone. “And don’t worry, the papers were my problem, not yours, so you didn’t had to do anything.” She barely looked at him, fetching a spoon and heading towards the  exit. 

“Still, it wasn’t nice of me.” She turned to him one last time, glancing him up and down, before placing the plate on the table. 

“When were you ever nice to me anyway?” Her words were heavy with sadness and they weighed on his guts, making his stomach churn. He was going to say something, when a freshly bathed Cassian appeared, sitting in front of the plate. 

“This smells fucking divine.” He took a bite from Azriel’s piece. “As good as I imagined, Thank you sweetheart.” Azriel watched the interaction in silence, how she blushed with the pet name and the adoration in Cassian’s eyes, something didn’t sit right with him watching that, and he would learn too late why he didn’t like it. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel had to watch her over the months, how she didn’t rush to greet him when he came from missions, how now she never went to ask about his day or how he was doing, how whenever she cooked, it wouldn’t have a meal ready waiting for him, how she distanced herself from him, only talking to him when it was extremely necessary, and that made him sad.

Despite everything it felt nice knowing someone cared about him like she did, someone noticed him and paid attention to the details in his life no one else bothered to look at. How she always had the perfect gift for him on solstice, how she always had the right thing to say when he would let his thoughts consume him. 

He watched how she interacted with everyone but him, having wine with Mor, meetings with Rhys and always choosing Cassian at training, her easy smiles that once were almost just for him, were for anyone but him now. He felt her absence deeply, so used to having her like a second shadow, that now he felt alone.  

Today was the day she was leaving, she and Cassian were going to the Summer Court as Emissaries, working with the High Lord to strengthen their alliances. Whenever she was going to a mission, she would leave a gift for him, but today, as she handed a fresh batch of cookies for Rhys and a very expensive bottle of wine to Mor, and left without barely saying goodbye to him, he knew something was wrong between them and once she got back, he would do anything to fix it.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The sun glowed on her skin, the bluest of the oceans surrounded her at the private beach Tarquin invited them to, Cassian couldn’t focus on what the male was saying, failing his duty greatly, but how could he when she was right there? Sparkling brighter than the sun above their heads, with her wet hair glued to her forehead, a big grin as she laughed at something Cresseida said. 

Cassian had always been attracted to her, content to wait for her as long as it would take for her to stop pining for his dumb brother and set her beautiful eyes on him. And he felt that moment approaching, more than ever, and he wasn’t going to let it slide from in between his fingers. He would grasp it and fight whoever dared to try and take her from him.

“There’s something distracting you, Lord Cassian?” Tarquin followed his eyes to his companion exiting the ocean.

“The view is quite beautiful here.” He tried to brush it off to which the High Lord just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, the view is stunning.” Tarquin snorted and Cassian felt his cheeks hot as she set her eyes on him. 

“My lord, this beach is the closest we have of paradise.” She bowed her head a little, sitting down by Cassian’s side and sipping on the cold drink that waited for her. 

“I’m glad you like it, Lady Y/N.” Tarquin smirked her way and Cassian wanted to punch it away from his lips. They sat there for the whole afternoon, discussing court matters and some other business. The High Lord had invited them for dinner with him. 

Cassian escorted her back to her room, her cheeks rosy from the summer heat, they had just arrived from dinner with Tarquin, but she didn’t felt like sleeping yet, so she invited Cassian for a drink, and one become two, and when she noticed, she was on all fours as Cassian pounded into her from behind. 

Her breasts shaking with his rough pace, while she moaned for him to never stop, she hadn't allowed herself to feel this good in a very long time and it felt great to be desired, having someone praising her and worshipping her body the way she deserved to be worshipped. She crumbled apart under his touch, and she moaned his name loudly when he reached for her bundle of nerves, drawing an invisible pattern that had her coming so hard she almost blacked out.

And when he held her later that night, laying her head on his chest, almost asleep, she felt her heart complete for the first time in centuries and she really liked the feeling, it was like everything finally felt right in his arms, and she could only hope that he felt the same way. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We should go out today.” He had said as the two sat for breakfast at her balcony. They haven’t spoken about last night's events yet, and she felt anxiety cursing through her veins.

“That sounds like a great idea.” She mumbled, and Cassian noticed how her shaking fingers grabbed the juice and poured it into her cup.

“About last night.” He grasped her hand, soothing her nervousness with his warmth. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I like you, and I want you to be mine. Azriel never deserved you.” He said and she looked at him, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“What I felt last night and in these weeks here with you, maybe this is what love really looks like and I really want to try, I deserve better than being invisible.” Cassian smiled at her.

“I always saw you as you are, the stunning and wonderful female with the biggest heart that always took care of everyone but was never taken care of, I intend to change that.” He inclined over the table, capturing her lips in a kiss and she allowed her heart to sink in that feeling of being appreciated, she would be happy now. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m so sorry, my Lord.” She said and Tarquin could see she was being honest. “We just got a little bit carried away, we understand if you never want to see us again, but please, don’t punish our court for our reckless behaviour.” 

“I won’t, but Cassian is banned from my Court, the damage he caused was too big.” She nodded.

“I understand, you can expect money for the repairs and for the inconvenience.” Tarquin nodded. “Thank you for having us here and for your kindness.” The male dismissed her and she marched outside the castle where Cassian waited for her escorted by five guards. 

“Too bad?” He asked sheepishly and she smiled at him.

“You’re banned and I promised money to rebuild.” He nodded.

“Could be worse.” He grabbed her, starting their journey back to the Night Court.

Last night, when they got out, things got a bit out of hand when Cassian took too many drinks, and a guy flirted with her. The two had a big fight that ended up with Cassian throwing the male on the building, damaging the structure and prompting the building to collapse. He was arrested for the night while Y/N tried to talk with Tarquin. 

Rhys already knew what happened and waited for them ready to scold Cassian for being so stupid and threatening their alliance, but Y/N was quick to defend him and guarantee that nothing was ruined and she could fix it over time. Cassian had pulled her to his lap while they talked, resting his chin on her shoulder, knowing that Rhys would never do anything to him out of consideration for her. 

“You’re lucky she’s your girlfriend now, Cass, Rhys won’t scold you anymore cuz he would hate to be on her bad side and miss her weekly cookies.” Mor laughed and they followed her. 

“Girlfriend?” Azriel asked, standing in the doorway, his eyes not believing what he was seeing, Cassian holding her.

“Problems with that brother?” Cassian sneered. “A female like her? Only a fool wouldn’t appreciate it.” Azriel felt his blood boiling in his veins.

He watched them angrily during the whole dinner, how she looked at Cassian, in the way she used to look at him, her orbs glowing and full of love. How he kept a hand on her thigh the whole time. He hated seeing the two together and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. So he waited. 

She always made a mug of tea before sleeping. So he waited for her in the kitchen, she looked surprised to see him there, her body barely covered by the nightgown and he almost threw up at the sight of purplish marks on the vale of her breasts. He hated the thought of her being touched like that by Cassian.

“We need to talk.” He said as she passed by him, starting to boil the water for her tea.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He scoffed and she turned towards him, her eyes cold and devoid of any emotion towards him.

“I do! How can you be with him?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Cassian makes me happy and he’s a good male, why wouldn’t I be with him?” 

“Because you love me and you’re supposed to be mine.” He blurted and hurt flashed across her eyes.

“So you always knew how I felt but only decided to acknowledge it when I'm with someone else. How convenient.” She was hurt and he could feel it.

“Leave him, I’m right here, I love you.” He reached for her hand but she stepped backwards, away from him. 

“You don’t love me, you never did. You only loved the attention, the fact that no matter what I would always be waiting for you like a stupid puppy. I was tired, Azriel.”

“Don’t say that, I know that deep down you still love me.” She laughed humorlessly.

“I LOVED you.” She corrected him. “I fell out of love with you a long time ago.”  His heart cracked in his chest, for the first time, seeing him distressed didn’t make her feel anything, there were no feelings left for him inside of her anymore. 

“I can make you happy, there’s no one else for me if it’s not you.” Tears welled in his eyes but she shook her head. 

“I really hope you find someone you truly love, for the first time my life isn’t about you anymore, let me be happy.” She begged and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice. Loving him and waiting for him was a tiring task, and she wasn’t willing to live like that anymore. 

“Please Y/N, don’t do this to me.” She took a deep breath.

“You never cared about what your behaviour would do to me, not even for a minute, why should I care?” She turned her back to him, finishing her tea. She walked past him. 

“I love you, please.” He was sobbing like a child now, she stared at him blankly. 

“It’ll pass.” She took a sip. “I learned to live with the pain of being in love with you, you’re smart, I know you’re going to learn as well.” She ignored the sound of the furniture breaking behind her as she walked towards Cassian’s room, where a life filled with love waited for her. 

[ennn]

Unpacking the Deals of Ep 8: Why and What They Mean

So episode 8 is... let's say a bit of a mess. I know there's some confusion around why Agatha proposes her terms for the first deal, why Rio flipped into cackling villain mode, why Rio makes another deal, etc.

Here's my read that hopefully helps draw a line from point A to B to C.

Let's consider the context of the first deal: Agatha's not having a good day. Two coven members who Agatha never expected to care about have died trying to protect her – a thing that has never happened before. And Death happens to be a person she can blame.

Death, who is pressing on that bruise ("Your coven is shrinking") and making her shitty day worse because she wants the kid Agatha is hardcore projecting on (and also didn't plan to care about) to die. Just like Nicky.

But Agatha then realises she has leverage on Rio. For the first time in forever, she has an advantage she can exploit. She can be in control.

And it's almost instinctive for Agatha at this point: finding the best buttons to push, the best terms for her given the opportunity.

Agatha: If I deliver Billy, you let me go. Rio: You will eventually die, Agatha. Agatha: But I want you to stop pursuing me. I want you to stop making my life hell. And when I die, a long, long, long, long, long time from now, I don't want to see your face. Rio: ... Okay.

The terms that Agatha sets out seem cruel because they are. She says what she does because she wants it to hurt. Agatha's not only rejecting Rio's continued presence in her life, she's denying all the love that Rio's given her, building on what she's said before ("You gave me nothing.")

From Rio's POV, Agatha's cutting words aside, this entire deal sucks. Because the options are:

(a) Agatha doesn't hold up her end, which Rio knows might happen: Rio knows Agatha cares about Billy ("I know how you feel about him"). Rio's constantly reminding her he's not Nicky. She was already doubting Agatha would deliver her usual number of corpses. She saw how affected Agatha was after Alice's death.

If Agatha doesn't help, she'd be choosing a boy over everything Rio's done again – and this time another woman's.

And if Rio somehow manages to take Billy anyway, Agatha will end up hating her twice forever.

(b) Agatha does hold up her end, which might also happen: Rio knows Agatha's manipulative and smart and capable. More than that, she's well aware Agatha hates her. That Agatha still doesn't see what she's done for her ("No one in history has had special treatment like you").

That she knows Agatha does care about Billy but maybe hates her so much that she's willing to go through with this to cut her out from her life. Billy would be a dear price but one Agatha's maybe willing to pay.

Even if it was a 50:50 chance for these options, I think Rio realises her relationship with Agatha is doomed either way.

Either way she does her job, with or without Agatha's help, she's going to be rejected and lose. One's just a slower path than the other.

I think that's why Rio gives in to her rage and bitterness and spite. Agatha thinks Rio's been making her life hell? She'll show her hell.

And Agatha, well I think there's some merit to the thinking that she didn't expect Rio to fold that quickly and completely.

Now for the context of the second deal, it's not clear whether Rio knows what happened with Tommy. I assume Rio doesn't – not yet anyway – as she doesn't mention it at all and seems focused on squaring that one life Billy stole.

Now here's where it gets a little squirrely, to borrow Schaeffer's language. Because if you don't look too closely, it seems to make sense: Billy stole a life so to maintain the natural balance, Rio needs to take a life, the one Billy has now.

But how does Agatha's life work as a substitute for this imbalance (“This means you’re coming with me”)? Would any other person’s life work? Could Rio have swapped someone else's life to save Nicky then? Agatha would have been all too happy to arrange for that murder.

I doubt the show is ever going to explain this so I offer few possible theories to deal with this weirdness:

Billy Maximoff is a product of chaos magic, so his existence and everything he affects already throws off the natural order, just to different orders of magnitude. Agatha’s life works as a substitute because his life is now intertwined with hers e.g. his hex probably saved her life from the Salem Seven and has the potential for greater imbalance

Rio is aware of Agatha’s tendency towards chaos and defiance of the natural order. Rio bent the rules of the universe only for Agatha. Taking her life would protect the balance in the larger scheme of things – if only so Rio won’t be further tempted to give her special treatment.

When Rio’s torturing Agatha it’s before she presents the second deal. So she’s still intending to go after Billy, she’s just removing Agatha as an obstacle while lashing out in rage and heartbreak.

In this moment Rio probably thinks Billy's in the wind. She saw how upset Billy was with Agatha at the end of episode 5. And Rio knows the reputation Agatha keeps ("Why do you let them believe those things about you?"), Rio probably thinks Agatha deliberately drove him off to keep him safe.

Then Billy pops up and Rio sees that Billy and Agatha care about each other and they're both aware they care about each other.

Fuckin’ great. Rio's not bitter at all.

Looks like you two are finally on the same page. So I'll let you decide. One of you stays with me. The other walks free.

Agatha proposed a deal designed to hurt her? Now it’s her turn.

From Rio's POV, I think here are the possible outcomes:

(a) Agatha sacrifices herself for Billy: Not impossible I think. Rio knows Agatha cares about the boy but she also knows Agatha will do anything to survive. She thinks she's above death. But again, I think Rio also knows Agatha would have sacrificed herself for Nicky if she had that choice.

What did Lorna want from the Road? To save her daughter.

This isn't an ideal outcome for Rio but she’s already resigned herself to losing Agatha I think, one way or another. This way if Agatha wants Billy to live so badly, this is the price she has to pay. The high cost of living.

(b) Billy steps up and sacrifices himself: Very possible given that Billy’s a young heroic sort and already showed up, risking his life to power up Agatha. Rio gets to do her job. Agatha will probably hate her more given the Nicky trauma but Rio’s already resigned to this on some level already, which is why she's raging.

Either way Agatha's going to hurt, and Rio's going to hurt.

It's interesting that when Billy does volunteer himself and Agatha seizes the opportunity to remind Rio of their earlier deal, Rio just shakes her head and looks amused.

You can also see for a brief moment Agatha looking almost remorseful about doing this before slipping her theatrical villainous mask on, overcompensating for her true feelings.

Do you remember pain? It kinda tickles doesn't it?

By the letter (not the spirit or intent) of the first deal, Agatha did ultimately fulfil her part:

I can arrange that. I can get him to the finish line and deliver him to you.

This is an opportunity that's almost impossible to resist for someone as calculating and ruthless and selfish like Agatha. She has power (chaos magic no less), she can have Rio leave her alone forever (she knows Rio honours her word), she knows Billy cares about her but can she really trust him?

But Agatha ultimately decides to take a risk. A calculated one sure, but still a risk.

I think the beauty in the kiss and her sacrifice is how – despite her calculating the odds – Agatha is choosing to give in to what she feels and wants in that moment.

Because she does want to protect the boy in a way no one did for her when she was young. She wants to save Billy like she couldn't with Nicky. And she does want Rio so much despite everything that's happened.

[daisymbin]

hihi! literally in love with all the fics u've been posting like .... ur brain is wonderful

could i please request angst prompt #28 with mingyu? maybe if mingyu was saying it to the reader? you can decide if u want a happy or sad ending!! thank u so much <333

GRRR thank you!!!! 🥹 writing this one made my heart hurt a little </3 hope you like this one!!!!! 🤍

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

angst prompt #28: "you always put them first."

you weren’t expecting mingyu to come home early. normally, you’d hear the familiar sound of keys jingling, the door creaking open, and his cheerful greeting filling the air. but tonight, he walked in quietly, a heavy presence filling the room.

you were on the couch, phone in hand, mid-conversation with jeonghan. something about your day at work, how stressful it had been, and how he always knew just what to say to calm you down.

but mingyu’s voice cut through your thoughts like a knife.

"jeonghan again?"

your fingers froze on your phone screen. you turned, guilt already clawing at you as you saw him standing there, his jaw tight, his usually warm eyes clouded with something sharp.

"he’s my best friend," you said softly, as if that explained everything.

mingyu let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, i know. he’s your best friend. but what about me?"

his words hit you like a blow to the chest.

"what do you mean?" you asked, even though a part of you already knew.

"what do i mean?" his voice cracked, frustration spilling into his tone. "you’re always going to him. when you’re stressed, when you need advice, when something’s wrong—hell, even when nothing’s wrong, you still go to him."

you opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

"do you even realize what it feels like to find out you had a rough day from someone else? to know you needed help with something and didn’t even think to ask me? it’s like i’m... i’m just here to fill the space when he’s busy."

"that’s not true," you whispered, your throat tightening.

"isn’t it?" mingyu shot back, his voice softer but no less hurt. "you always put him first."

the weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating.

"it’s not like that," you said, but the conviction in your voice wavered.

he ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small space of the living room. "then what is it? because i’ve tried, baby. i’ve tried to be the person you come to when you need help, hell, just to be the person you come to at all, really. i want to be that person so bad. but it’s like... no matter how much i love you, no matter how much i show you i'm here for you, you’ll never see me that way."

tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "mingyu, i do see you that way. i love you—"

"do you?" he cut you off, his voice breaking. "because if you did, i think i’d be the one you called when you needed someone. i’d be the one you trusted to help, to listen."

the tears spilled over now, streaking down your cheeks. you hated this. hated how he looked at you, like you’d taken something fragile and crushed it.

"i didn’t mean to make you feel like this," you choked out. "i just... jeonghan’s been there for me for so long. it’s a habit, i guess. but it doesn’t mean i don’t trust you or love you. i love you, you know that."

mingyu’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "but it’s not just a habit, it’s a pattern. one that makes me feel like i’ll never be enough for you."

you sat down beside him, the distance between you feeling like a chasm. your hands itched to reach out, to comfort him, but you don't.

"you are enough," you said softly. "you’re more than enough. i just... i’ve been so stuck in my ways, i didn’t realize how much i was hurting you."

he looked up then, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. "i don’t want to come second to anyone. especially not in your heart."

your heart cracked open at his words. you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his.

"you’re not second," you said, your voice trembling. "i’m sorry if i ever made you feel that way. you’re the one i love, gyu. you’re the one i want to share my life with. i just... i need to learn how to lean on you, the way you lean on me."

his grip tightened around your hand, and for the first time that night, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes.

"i just want you to trust me," he said quietly. "to know that whatever it is, i’ll be here. i’ll always be here."

"i know," you said, and you meant it. "and i promise, i’ll do better. i’ll come to you first. because you’re the one who matters most to me."

he exhaled shakily, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "you promise?"

"i promise," you said, leaning into his touch.

his lips quirked into a small, hesitant smile.

"i love you," he murmured, his voice steady with sincerity.

"i love you too," you said, and as he pulled you into his arms, you knew you meant it with every fiber of your being. you just hope he does too.

[yuyuwritesss]

Someone older

Pairing: John Price x younger!reader

Summary: you get mad at Price for being too nice to you.

A/N: Slight angst, 10 things I hate about you vibes and John acts mean for like 2 seconds (but is overall a sweetheart), 2.290 words.

"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"

The giant hand, patting then ruffling your hair, moving to cup your cheek before quickly being withdrawn, always left you in a sea of helpless longing and guilty consciousness. You know it came from a place of father-like pride and approval. But this recurring gesture, not at all dissimilar to his pats on the boys' backs, without a doubt altered to fit your, in his eyes, gentler disposition, doesn't fail to send your idle mind rampant.

Coupled with his softening voice when addressing you as if you were made of glass any loud sound could shatter, a gentle smile painting his face whenever you join the conversation while the whole team is out after a mission. Intense eyes not leaving yours whenever they meet, pushing you to look away lest you get lost in them.

Your naive, eager brain couldn't help but disfigure and reshape the intention behind his attention to its liking, desperately trying to get you to make a move. To feed it after a long fast, cut at intervals during which its only sustenance came from the crumbs dropped by your captain.

This lack of control, mindless yearning, pissed you off to no end. You were supposed to be a soldier for God's sake. But the build-up of moments where you felt your heart almost beat out of your chest at the slightest attention from Captain Price put your mental state on wobbly ground, and you weren't sure how much time you had before it seeped into your work.

This prompted a fit of rage and self-loathing out of you that translated into your being curt and bitter to those around you as a last resort act of self-defiance, to forcibly gain the upper hand on your feelings.

Which didn't go unnoticed by your dear captain, calling you into his office one Friday morning. As you entered you were met with the very smile that brought this on you. The soft crinkles around his deep blue eyes. The dimples hidden behind the thick forest of facial hair. The exposed, strong forearms extending to big hands, one of them wrapped around a fountain pen while the other rested by the top of whatever papers he was signing.

"Morning love. Did you sleep well?"

Humming, you look at the side of the room to avoid looking at him, the way the soft rays of light paint the wall and dark red couch he occasionally sleeps on when he's tired. You know that because you've walked in on him napping on it too many times to count although he always insists he's just resting his eyes.

You're forced to look at him again when you hear the scratch of his chair on the floor, his big body stands to stretch, offering you a front row view of his stomach as his shirt rises and his eyes softly close. Then, having stretched to his heart's content, he starts moving towards you until he's standing less than a foot away, a soft smile on his face and his deep blues looking down to search your expression. The smile barely showing through his mutton chops soured your mood even more than it already was and made you absent-mindedly scowl at it, too transfixed by it to notice his hand slowly rising up, his thumb softly touching your cheek.

Your eyes automatically shut at the feeling of the rough finger pad on your skin, brushing it and igniting a warmth in your chest that you've grown familiar with in your captain's presence.

"What's going on with you, dove?"

Your eyes opened to a slightly worried, inquisitive look on his face.

"What do you mean?" you mumbled, stepping back to no longer suffer at his touch and gain back your wits about you.

He looks at you, almost in disapproval, eyebrows drawn together. "I mean the way you've been acting lately," his tone gets more assertive and you try not to let it show how nervous it's making you. Being at the receiving end of his displeasure is a foreign experience for you, used to being in his good graces without much effort, his soft tone and even softer touches being common occurrences.

"And how have I been acting?" you say, holding your ground, your anger and frustration acting as crutches, holding you up and crushing down any sign of weakness or nervousness.

He gets closer from where he was first stood, enough that you can feel his breath on your face, looking at you as if you were some rebellious teenager he was forced to deal with.

"So that's how you wanna go about this, hm? Alright, you're dismissed, soldier." He says, staring into your soul before turning and walking back to his desk.

You thought him talking to you like this would make you feel better, might create some much-needed distance between the two of you where you can finally get your feelings back in order, but you were so incredibly mistaken. You hated how he made you feel when he was nice and soft to you, but this felt infinitely worse. His sharp tone, his back to you shutting you out of his world. The one you wanted so badly to be a prominent part of but couldn't even allow yourself to dream of coming close to. You were a big girl, but you weren't immune to getting your feelings hurt, no matter how hard you wished for the opposite to be true.

He was once again settled into his chair, fountain pen between his fingers, haven't looked at you again but sensed your lack of movement and looking up he said, "I said you're dismissed, sold-" only to lay his eyes on you, the most upset he has ever seen you, still by his door. He didn't think you would react that way to what he thought would be a harmless ploy to get you to come around later, but seeing you like that tugged at his heartstrings. "Love-" that seemed to jolt you out of whatever trance you were in and sending you forward toward his desk, unshed tears clouding your vision.

"I hate it when you call me that," you barked out.

He was shocked, he didn't understand what prompted this fit but opted to calm you down as best as he could.

"I didn't know, let's talk ab-" "I hate it when you touch me when you pat my head and look at me like I'm the only girl in the entire world."

You felt terrible, especially with the way he was looking at you with heartbreak in his eyes, but at the same time, you were glad he was finally feeling what you felt every single day but had to lock up, so you kept going.

"I hate when you say my name and when you stand so close to me and when you treat me like I'm something special," you say, setting your hands on the desk and coming closer.

"But above all, I hate how none of this is true and that the only thing I truly hate is how you make me feel, so helplessly in love with a man who couldn't possibly love me back, not in a million years," you say softly, your tears finally falling and collapsing on astutely ordered files, in contradiction with your feelings at the moment.

You wipe at them harshly with both hands as if making them disappear equates to making this whole situation go away. You don't even hear him stand up and make his way to you until two hands grip your wrists, inhibiting them from any more abuse on your eyes and cheeks, and pull you into his encompassing chest. "Shhh darl', I've got you," your hard breathing into his neck allows you to get more than enough whiffs of his soothing scent, causing your hiccups to become few and far in-between and your hyperventilating to slow down.

As you calm down, you expect him to step back, letting you go now that he's done, decent man that he is, what he had to do. But you're surprised to feel him sit down on the chair, simultaneously pulling you into his lap.

Your face feels exposed and your hands self-consciously find your face, hiding it from him only to have your two wrists bound by a single one of his hands—the other one circling your back and waist—and pulled back to reveal you to him.

You finally build up enough courage to look him in the eye to find his blue eyes looking at you with such gentleness and pure compassion it nearly melts your heart.

"What makes you think I don't love you back?" Your eyes widen and your mouth can't seem to form a coherent sentence which ultimately becomes useless as lips come crashing down into yours, they kiss and kiss until you can no longer breathe, only pulling away when you nearly go limp in his arms. As you recompose yourself, you feel as though reality split and launched you into an alternate universe out of pity.

The only thing that could come out of your mouth is a wobbly "Why?", as his smile begins to widen. "Why do you think?" A nod to your earlier behavior, one you would've found humorous under different circumstances but the ones you were presently under regressed your brain to a version incapable of understanding irony.

"I need to understand," you said, an earnest albeit confused expression painting your face.

"What's there not to love about you, dove?" He said softly brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, "I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you and every moment spent with you seemed to justify that, I tried to be discreet but you seemed to catch on, smart girl that you are."

You were on the verge of passing out from how overjoyed and delirious you felt. "Why didn't you say anything?" you said, reaching out to cup his jaw and moving to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"I didn't want to steal your youth away from you, thought you deserved someone your own age."

You immediately kiss him with all the pent-up anger this misunderstanding had culminated in you and pull back to see his lips a titillating shade of red. "I couldn't give less of a shit about that, you're all I need." You felt his hand squeeze your waist as you rested your forehead against his.

"How about dinner tonight, love?"

A hundred sunbeams couldn't match your smile at hearing those words, nodding as you curled further into his warm chest, happy with the knowledge that you were now allowed to touch him as much as you liked.

[rae-writes]

om boys cumcanons

nsfw 

Lucifer

off white, has the thickest consistency of his brothers; it actually can be a bit hard to swallow all at once sometimes because of that, so he practically keens whenever your cheeks are puffed, visibly full of his cum, as you take your time swallowing it all. Tastes a bit bitter from all the coffee he drinks, but it’s not unbearable, and you start to actually like it after a while

Mammon

pearl colored with a golden tint, creamy consistency; you would think it tastes like sugar with the way it looks, but it’s just a distinct Mammon taste (with a tang of sourness from all the hell-sauce), and the texture is perfect for making you greedy to come back for more, which he is all too happy to give

Levi

paper white, but has some transparency to it, with an iridescent shine— it’s thinner than his brothers and a bit runny; he cums a lot so the consistency is good for quickly swallowing it down (and for easy clean up). Tastes like candy— literally. Sometimes leftover beads of it will roll off your tongue when you open to show him and the sight drives him crazy

Satan

milky with a rather normal consistency, though sometimes it’s thicker depending on how pent up he was; it genuinely looks like milk and is very easy to swallow. Tastes rich and almost sweet, like a loaded coffee that gives you the energy to keep going and going until you’ve both had your fill (gives a whole new meaning to the nickname ‘kitten’)

Asmo

pearly with a rose gold tint to it, a bit on the thinner side; he actually likes painting your face/body with it, so it’s pretty to take photos of and not too messy to where it’ll be hard to clean off (and he tastes amazing- like a fruity mixture but not too sweet and not too sour) 

Beel

off white and has the second thickest consistency, though his is more of a creamy texture like Mammon’s; he cums the most out of all his brothers so it’ll definitely overflow out of your mouth (not that he minds the sight). Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste that bad, but you can’t really pinpoint the taste- it’s kind of bland, but given what he eats all the time, you’re okay with it

Belphie

milky, normal consistency, and glints under direct light (like stars); loves having you open your mouth with your tongue out and let his cum drip off- very aesthetic, tbh. He’s a mixture between sweet and bland yet it tastes so good, especially in the morning (where you can be caught giving him a wake up call with head on many occasions)

Diavolo

off white and is the third thickest consistency, but he comes so much (more than Beel) that it’s basically impossible to swallow it all down without either taking your time or having it dribble down your chin. Has a hint of sweetness, but it’s mostly bitter in taste, and even more so because of how much is in your mouth at once. Not the most pleasant, but you manage

Barbatos

paper white, bit of a thin consistency, but thick enough to where it’s pleasant as it pools in your mouth when he doesn’t allow you to swallow until he’s finished working; he’s a curious mix of bitter and shockingly sweet, it’s almost confusing on whether you love it or hate it (you love it, come on)

Simeon

pearly white with a pearlescent glimmer, and the consistency is perfect, just the right amount of thick and thin; and- and his taste??? Delicious— a delicacy, if you will. You could sit and swallow his cum down all day if you could (and when you tell him this during one of your cock-drunk spells while licking said cum up? he ascends. absolutely lets you overstimulate him till he’s passing out right then and there) 

Solomon

off white, on the thicker consistency side; and I know what you’re thinking- but he actually tastes good- it’s kind of irritating, really (and makes you just want to get on your knees instead when he offers to cook for you. He can’t complain though, not when you’re shoving your cum coated tongue in his mouth and making him agree, though that might just be because your taste was mixed in too)

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 5

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper. A love like this is a dream.”

– Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

A/N : Idk if it good but i kinda felt like being sappy here.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4

The interview seemed to be going well, Y/N thought, watching from behind the scenes.

Aubrey had a knack for charming people with just one smile. She was relaxed as she spoke to Drew about her upcoming project, her confidence radiating in every word. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as Aubrey flirted playfully (Y/N couldn’t blame her—it’s Drew Barrymore, for crying out loud!) and teased her fans with a casual grin that always left her weak in the knees.

Drew seemed to enjoy the banter, too. The two of them joked effortlessly, with Drew throwing in a few personal questions—ones Aubrey had agreed to answer beforehand. Y/N could sense the moment she’d been both dreading and anticipating inching closer.

Their relationship.

For some reason, even after months, people couldn’t seem to let it go. The world was fascinated by the unlikely pairing, endlessly dissecting it. Y/N figured it was because she wasn’t famous, nor did she live a very public life. People were either intrigued by her anonymity or bitter, labeling her a gold-digger.

Her social media was private, her career was far from glamorous, and even when her future book will be finally published—her own book, not just something she’d co-edited—she knew she’d still be considered “ordinary” next to Aubrey. She wasn’t an actress, a model, or an influencer. She was just a small-town girl who, somehow, had caught the Aubrey Plaza’s attention—and love.

A montage of pictures suddenly appeared on the screen, paired with Drew’s next question. Y/N watched nervously.

The first photo showed her lying on top of Aubrey on their couch, fast asleep with her face buried in Aubrey’s stomach. Aubrey, meanwhile, was smiling like she’d won the lottery. The second image was a messy selfie of them covered in eggs and flour, laughing with huge, silly grins. The last was from a Marvel party they’d attended together: Aubrey’s hand rested possessively on Y/N’s waist as they leaned in close, noses almost touching. Y/N had a crinkle in her nose, clearly giggling at something Aubrey had whispered.

From her seat, Y/N noticed Aubrey shift slightly, sitting a little straighter. It was subtle, but Y/N could tell—her girlfriend was nervous.

“So, there are a lot of rumors about your relationship,” Drew began warmly. “It’s not new news, but somehow it’s still keeping people on their toes. How do you feel about that? And how’s your girlfriend handling it?”

Drew’s tone was light, like a friend genuinely curious, not a journalist digging for a scoop.

Aubrey smiled softly. “How do I feel about it? Well… I’ve had a few relationships in my life—some public, some less so. Most were great in their own ways. But honestly, this one? This one’s it for me. She’s my person, and I’m happy. I just wish people could be more supportive of that.”

She paused for a moment, glancing briefly behind Drew to catch Y/N’s eye. When she saw Y/N’s encouraging thumbs-up and grin, Aubrey’s smile grew.

“But I get it,” she continued. “People wonder, they talk—and that’s fine, I guess. It’s part of the package deal. I just wish the hate wasn’t part of it. It’s one thing when it’s the media. Neither of us cares what some sleazy tabloid writer thinks. But when it’s from people who call themselves fans? That stings. For both of us.”

Drew nodded, her expression understanding. “Do you think addressing it will change anything? Or are you worried it might even get worse?”

Aubrey shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not counting on this fixing anything. God, I hope it doesn’t get worse. But even if it does, we have a great relationship. I’m crazy about her, and that’s all that matters.”

She glanced over at Y/N and winked, making her laugh softly.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Drew teased, grinning.

The conversation moved to lighter topics, including Aubrey’s notorious pranks on set and an embarrassing story about the time she accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom at an awards show. The tension from earlier melted away as they both dissolved into laughter. Y/N knew fans would love this part. Aubrey seemed lighter, too, like addressing the issue had lifted a weight off her shoulders.

After the interview aired, the two decided to ditch their phones for the evening. They curled up on the couch in Aubrey’s apartment, embracing the quiet.

Y/N rested her head on Aubrey’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster,” she teased.

“Disaster? That was amazing,” Aubrey replied, reaching over to run her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “And I killed it, if I do say so myself.”

Y/N snorted. “Humble as ever.”

“Hey, it’s not bragging if it’s true.” Aubrey smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Besides, you were the real MVP, giving me that thumbs-up when I needed it. You’re my rock, you know that?”

“Stop. You’re making me blush,” Y/N mumbled, hiding her face against Aubrey’s neck.

“Good. You’re cute when you blush.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world and its noise fading away. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of the moment and the peace of being together, on their own terms.

The morning light crept into Aubrey’s apartment, highlighting the lazy entanglement of limbs on the couch. Y/N stirred first, groaning softly as the realization dawned that they’d fallen asleep there. Aubrey, half-awake, tightened her arm around Y/N’s waist.

“Don’t move,” Aubrey murmured, her voice husky with sleep. “You’re my pillow.”

Y/N chuckled, brushing her fingers through Aubrey’s messy hair. “We’re not even in bed. My neck is going to hate me for this later.”

“It’s a small price to pay for cuddles,” Aubrey countered, pressing her face into Y/N’s shoulder.

The moment was warm and serene, but the peace was short-lived. Y/N glanced at her phone on the coffee table, her curiosity getting the better of her. Against her better judgment, she reached for it.

As soon as she unlocked it, her screen lit up with notifications. Dozens of missed messages, tagged posts, and news alerts. A quick scroll through Twitter showed one trending topic: #AubreyAndYN.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, biting her lip. “Aubrey, we’re trending again.”

Aubrey groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back like a starfish. “Of course we are. Can’t the world leave us alone for one day?”

“It’s… different this time,” Y/N said hesitantly, scrolling further. “Look.”

Curiosity piqued, Aubrey sat up and leaned over Y/N’s shoulder. What they found was unexpected.

Instead of the usual nasty gossip or conspiracy theories, the feed was flooded with supportive messages and heartwarming edits. Fans had clipped moments from the interview, adding captions like, “Aubrey loves her GF so much, I’m crying 🥹” and, “Finally, they addressed the haters. Good for them!”

A particularly popular tweet featured the marvel party photo that had appeared in the interview. It was captioned, “Find someone who looks at you like Aubrey looks at Y/N. Relationship goals!”

Y/N scrolled further, finding more positive reactions. One user wrote, “I wasn’t sure about them at first, but seeing Aubrey defend her GF so fiercely? Respect.”

Another said, “Y/N’s clearly the happiest thing to happen to Aubrey. Why can’t we just let them be in love?”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Wow. Are we in the Twilight Zone? Where’s all the hate?”

“There’s still some,” Y/N admitted, gesturing to a few bitter comments. “But it’s… quieter than usual.”

Aubrey grinned, clearly pleased. “Looks like our plan worked. I told you people just needed to see how awesome you are.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Sure. It’s totally because I’m awesome, not because you publicly declared your undying love for me on live television.”

“Well, that didn’t hurt,” Aubrey teased, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist and pulling her close. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

Y/N laughed, leaning into Aubrey’s embrace. “Let’s not push our luck.”

They spent the next hour scrolling through the posts, laughing at memes and reading comments aloud. By the time they set their phones down, the tension from the day before had all but disappeared.

Later, as they sat at the kitchen table, sharing a plate of pancakes Aubrey had lovingly burnt on one side, Y/N felt a strange sense of calm.

“You know,” she said, spearing a piece of pancake with her fork, “it’s kind of nice seeing people be supportive for a change.”

Aubrey nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah. Feels weird, though. Like, are we actually allowed to enjoy this?”

“I think so,” Y/N said with a small smile. “We deserve to enjoy it.”

Aubrey reached across the table to take Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. “We do. And for the record, I don’t care if we’re trending, ignored, or completely forgotten. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” Aubrey shot back, her grin mischievous.

“Unfortunately, I do.”

They spent the rest of the morning laughing, teasing each other, and stealing bites of pancake from the same plate. No matter what the internet thought of them, they were happy—and that was all that mattered.