#it’s okay to let yourself feel whatever feelings you’re feeling today and tomorrow and for however long you need to feel them
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canayams-art · 2 months ago
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thecompletebookworm · 2 months ago
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This may seem silly but this is what I needed to hear in 2016, so I’m going to say it now. It’s okay to feel hopeless or angry or scared or betrayed or even just mildly nauseous. However you feel is the right reaction for you. You’re just not allowed to kill yourself. You are too good, too valuable, too important for this to be the thing that takes you. Yes the world is a mess, but taking one good person out of it isn’t going to make it any better.
So take care of yourself. Wrap yourself in that blanket. Get that hug. Eat that mug cake. Find your life preserver whatever it may be and keep going. You are stronger than you realize.
Deciding to do something when you’re feeling defeated is hard. If all you can take care of is you today, focus on doing that. Tomorrow or a week from now you can look at what your community needs to do to weather the storm in the long term. Yes communities are hurting now, but having to grieve one more person isn’t going to make anyone’s life any better. Please keep going. Please don’t let this election take you too.
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luveline · 10 months ago
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If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️
absolutely no pressure! <33
“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 
You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 
“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 
“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.
He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 
Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—
“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 
“That’s okay–”
“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 
“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 
He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.
“Pete…” 
His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 
You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 
“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 
There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 
“I do?” you ask finally. 
“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 
You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”
“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 
“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.
“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 
“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 
He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 
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kkcauseway · 2 months ago
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Forever and Always
Joel Miller x F!reader.
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Summary I Your work life is awful and there's nothing you want more after an exhausting day both mentally and physically than to come home to Joel, but on calling him and finding out that's not possible you're dreading the thought of going home to be alone. However, it doesn't seem that that's the case once you actually make it back, and it turns into once of the best and happiest nights of your life. Content/warnings I So much cute fluff, Joel Miller being the most doting and caring boyfriend. 'babygirl', Joel has a cute little saying to let reader know just how much he loves her. Asking to move in together. No use of y/n, no outbreak. A/N I Once again another random idea that popped into my head that I decided to run with. I really hope you enjoy soppy, cute Joel taking care of his woman!
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It always puts a smile on his face when you call. Your name working wonders for the grumpy moods he finds himself in on jobs. Even with the jokes he cracks with Tommy. Nothing compares to when he’s with you, talking to you. Just doing anything that involves you. “Hey baby you, okay?” His husky voice grumbles down the receiver once he’s removed himself away from the bustle of the house, he’s currently working in.
“Joel?” You sniff.
His smile falters. Something is obviously wrong, and whatever’s happened he’ll kill them. No one upsets you. “Babe? Hey, hey what’s wrong?”
“I- sniff- I’m just having such a horrible day. I can’t stand this job anyone, I wana quit so bad. Please can you come over when I finish?” The sobs grow in volume as you force a hand to your mouth to try to quiet them. The impact of hearing those words leave your own mouth proving to you just how much you rely on him.
“Oh baby m’so sorry you’re having a shitty day. Listen we’re on a bad job today m’not gonna finish till super late so I most likely can’t come round. But I’ll call you later okay y’can tell me all about it okay baby. Promise.”
“Okay” you sniff upset he can’t come but you knew he was busy and that it was a long shot. You pine after him when you feel vulnerable like this.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” He grumbles evidently worried he’s in the doghouse.
“I know. I love you too so much.”
“Forever and always baby girl.”
The words making your heart flutter as they always do.
When the call cuts you hold your phone against your chest and sob a little more before psyching yourself up for your afternoon. Your colleagues don’t deserve to know just how bad they make you feel, they’d probably thrive on it if they knew.
So, instead you sort yourself out wash your face, wait till your eyes are less puffy, paint on your smile and go about the remainder of your shift thank fuck it’s Friday.
Of course no one notices, why would they when they make it clear how much they can’t stand you being around.
-
Finally five o’clock arrives and you rush out to your car as quick as you can. Putting on the cheesy cd playlist Joel made you. You love that he’s like that, so unbelievably cheesy, so old fashioned it’s why you adore him the way you do. When yours and Joel’s song comes on tears escape you again. God you’ve never loved someone the way you love him, but these tears you’re spilling are tears of happiness not pain.
When you make it home your shitty mood overcomes you again, the thought of your empty apartment and cold bed. So you settle on the idea of a large glass of red wine, a crappy comfort series and a good cry before you go to sleep. You’re have a day trip with Joel planned tomorrow and that’s enough to keep you going.
However, it’s like you can tell something’s off from the second your key is in the door. After momentarily hesitating you uneasily open your door and those thoughts are made true. Your apartment isn’t dark, cold, nor is it empty. The smell of food hits you so mouth-wateringly beautiful, and the radio is playing softly.
You kick off your shoes and move to the kitchen and there he is, Joel in all his glory slaving away over the stove. Dancing along to the music with an apron round his neck.
He turns to look at you with a smile on his face and it breaks you.
You stand on the spot throw your bag to the floor from your shoulder and cry. But he quickly rushes over “hey shhh it’s okay.” He cradles you close a hand on the back of your head pushing you closer to his chest. Allowing you to inhale his comforting scent.
“S’okay m’here baby.” He mumbles against your hair as he rests his lips against you. Holding you as close as possible.
After a few minutes you pull away red faced and puffy eyes to look up at him. “How did you get here I thought you were busy?”
“M’sorry baby, I know I didn’t think I’d be able to. And I’m so sorry that that made you upset, I really am, but as much as I am super busy at work the second, I heard you cryin’ I knew I needed to make sure I was finishin’ early so I could come over and see you, you mean more to me than any job, any amount of money. So I took a sick day for the remainder.”
“Thankyou” you whisper before moving to grasp at his stubbly cheeks. You smile sadly at him as your thumbs stroke him and then you move your lips to his, kissing him softly.
“I’ve made your favourite baby” he begins once you pull back away. Arms resting round his neck as you stand on your tip toes to be exactly in his eye-line. “And then I want you t’tell me all about this shitty day o’yours so we can get it outa your pretty head. You’re too beautiful to be burdened by that shit.”
You chuckle “I’d really like that, thank you so much for being here.”
“Always baby. Always.”
-
After a long moan fest over Joel’s signature spaghetti and meatballs, you’re cuddling on the couch with your long-awaited red wine.
Your difficult day long forgotten about which is why you love being around him so much, he really does make everything better. Just by being himself- so unapologetically himself.
You’re cuddled into him your feet kicked up behind you as he strokes your side. His calloused fingertips gliding lightly from your hip all the way up to the side of your breast, over and over causing constant goosebumps.
“You know v’been thinkin’” he mumbles softly into the silence.
“Shit did it hurt?” You chuckle as you jest with him, you love when you get the perfect opportunity to use that joke.
He pokes at your side in retaliation, and you giggle into it, loving every second of being with him.
“Seriously now though babygirl, sit up n’look at me.” 
Which you do without a moment’s hesitation. You pull away from him so you can face him sat on your knees.
God he’s gorgeous. His beautiful salt and pepper hair slightly longer than he would like but with you adoring him just like that he refuses to cut it.
He takes your hands in his and god it makes you nervous. Butterflies swim around in your stomach as you stare into each other’s eyes.
“I realised somethin’ today.”
Your breathing increases as you reply “what?”
He takes a nervous breath closing his eyes on the inhale and opening them back up to stare right back at you on the exhale. His perfectly pert lips opening just slightly to let the air out. He clears his throat as he shifts slightly in the seat. “Y’belong with me, all the time, all day every day, and it breaks my heart t’think that you could need me and we ain’t together.”
You smile softly at him, you know your rightful place is with him 24/7, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.
But the next words to leave him are so far from what you expected it’s as though time stands still. “Move in w’me.”
“What?” You’re excited from the moment the words leave his lips, but you’re certain you misheard.
“I want you t’move in with me, get out of this lil apartment. Come make my house ours, let’s always be together. No more late nights alone let’s always be there together even if my stupid fuckin’ job means I get in at 2am.”
You squeal throwing your arms around his neck as you practically pounce on him. “Oh my god yes, yes, yes when?”
He chuckles pushing you back slightly so he’s able to look at you once more. “Well I mean we could start moving ya stuff in tomorrow, I know we said we’d go out for the day but-”
“No!” You say it all too quickly and he laughs “I wana move in let’s do that fuck the plans! We can do that any day!” You forcefully hug him again. Pulling away he’s beaming at you “do you promise you mean it?”
“With all my heart baby.” The hand he has resting on your back moves up and down slowly. So soothing, so full of love.
You scream in excitement before kissing him.
When you eventually pull away you look directly into his hooded eyes. “Forever and always?”
“Forever and always babygirl” and he rubs his nose against yours.
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makethemhoesmad · 4 months ago
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love you till my lungs give out
paige bueckers x reader
word count- 2k(lord)
notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.
thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them
also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this
the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.
“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.
“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.
“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.
the second time, i know what i did.
“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 
“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”
she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 
“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.
“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.
“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.
“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”
i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 
the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.
“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.
“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.
“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 
“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 
she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.
the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.
“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.
“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.
“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.
“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.
“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.
“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.
this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.
i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.
“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.
“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 
“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.
sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.
i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.
“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.
“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 
“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 
“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 
“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.
“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.
“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”
at some point, she wins
“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.
“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.
“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.
“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”
after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.
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saerins · 1 year ago
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𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆
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+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing
notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3
summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.
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“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”
it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.
when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.
besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.
“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”
you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.
“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)
nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.
“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”
okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.
“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”
that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”
nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.
“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.
while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.
“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.
for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.
someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.
but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.
he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.
“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”
nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.
you win about 300 tickets.
“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.
you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”
no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.
“what’re you betting?”
you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”
nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”
grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”
whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.
have you ever even set foot in here before?
nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.
throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.
your 64 versus nagi’s 154.
“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”
you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”
nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.
“you don’t want anything?”
nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”
(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)
but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”
turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.
you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.
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“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”
nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.
“why’re you looking away?”
you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”
“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.
a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.
“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.
something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.
when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.
somehow, his feet follows you.
it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.
“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”
nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?
“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.
by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.
when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”
nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.
“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.
but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”
you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”
you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.
nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”
the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?
meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.
“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”
the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.
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“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.
nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.
reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).
that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.
“oi, nagi.”
nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.
“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.
even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.
looks like he never needed to worry after all.
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3K notes · View notes
4unnyr0se · 7 months ago
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pookie pls can you write for gojo where reader and him are coworkers at jujutsu high and have a dynamic similar to utahime and gojo? and like yaga is always making them work together even tho they don’t like eachother, but Gojo lowkey gets off on reader being annoyed at him so there is *tension*? 🥺🥺🥺
❥ whole lotta attitude | satoru gojo
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warnings: enemies to lovers, gojo is a dickhead but it's okay because he's gojo, fem! reader, unprotected sex, office sex (im a slut for office sex), multiple orgasms, wall sex, roughness, one hickey, spanking, oral sex (m! receiving), making out, filthy filthy words are spoken, hella sexual tension, reader hates gojo but gojo loooooves her, gojo gets slapped once, degrading, praise, hair pulling, hate(?) sex, gojo texts like a super senior, a little bit of a textfic but not rlly, fluff at the end
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 3.6k
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Jujutsu High was quiet today. That wasn’t unusual because most of the students were either out on missions or in Shokos’ office experiencing whatever the hell she called “medicine.” The quiet was nice, strangely calming, and reassuring. Being a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, calm was a foreign feeling. The cool breeze blew your hair softly in the wind, the songbirds tweeting a melody that was most becoming on this quiet say. You took a deep breath in as you leaned against a wooden pole, admiring how clear the sky was. Everything was simply perfect. If tomorrow was your last day alive, today would be the most wonderful send-off.
“Hey there princess! I missed you!” 
And just like that, there was no more peace. No more tranquility, no more sing-song bird crap. There’s only Satoru Gojo and his humongous ego that crushes anyone within a 50-foot radius. 
His deep voice was laced with a sickly sweet playful tone that made you want to grab his collar and punch him right in his perfect nose. God, you fucking hated him. He was the bane of your existence with his smug attitude and that stupid infinity that he only turned off when you were around. Did he seriously think you were that weak, and he didn’t even need to use infinity because he could defeat you within a millisecond? Stupid fucking handsome bastard, you hated him with every fiber of your being. 
“What, you’re ignoring me now? Don’t be like that, it’s not nice!” Gojo laughed and practically teleported to where you were sitting, his eyes no doubt sparkling under that black blindfold he always wore. 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away from the smug bastard. “Fuck off, Gojo. I was having a perfectly peaceful afternoon before your very existence ruined it for me.” You pinched your temple with your index finger and thumb, rubbing the stressed skin. “I was calm for once in my damn life. You really do have a talent for making me wish I was six feet under.”
Gojo playfully pouted and shifted himself to your other side, taking your hand off your temple. He cradled it with his own, royally pissing you off in the process. “Why are you always so grumpy all the time, huh? Is it because your students are always out on missions instead of keeping little ol’ your company?” He mocked slightly, letting go of your hand. His blue eyes sparkled beneath his blindfold, filled with mischief. “I could keep your company, you know that right? Or is Little Miss Grumpy Pants too high and mighty to give me a shot?”
“I would literally rather make out with Jogo than spend more time with you than I’m legally required.”
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Too bad, so sad.” You smirked, shoving him away. If anyone else had seen that they would have been shocked. The mighty Satoru Gojo, pushed to the ground by a grade two sorcerer. You rose up from the wooden desk and dusted yourself off, walking away as quickly as you could in your tennis shoes.
“I always look forward to these meetings you know!” Gojo yelled at you in the distance only to see the faintest image of your middle finger wiggling at him. Gojo smirked and put down the hem of his blindfold, his hair returning to its usual upright position. 
You stormed back into your office and locked the door shut, sliding down against the mahogany doorframe in exhaustion. How was it possible that just being in his presence absolutely drained you of all resolve? Was he really that strong, or was he just super fucking annoying? You had no idea, no one ever had any idea when it came to Satoru Gojo. 
The beautiful day finally came to an end and you got back to your apartment, collapsing onto your couch. Most jujutsu sorcerers had house provided to them by their clans, but that was not your case. Your neighbors thought you were a teacher at some religious school deep in the country side. It was the best excuse you could come up with for being gone for practically days at a time. Maybe the only bus to the train station broke down or something, any old excuse like that in order to keep the nosy (and mostly elderly) fellow tennents off your back.
“Fuck my life…” You groaned, placing your head in your hands as you stumbled over to your cozy bedroom, it’s warm environment almost giving you a hug in its own way. You slipped into your pajamas and curled up under the covers, setting your alarm on your phone for the next morning. Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone started to buzz. At first it was just a single vibration, probably a text from your mother or something. But the buzzes and vibrations kept coming until your phone was practically moving itself off the bed.
You groaned in annoyance and turned over, checking the notification center to see who the hell had the nerve to text you nine times in a row. And sure enough, sporting the contact photo of a .5 that he took of himself when he stole your phone that one time, Satoru fucking Gojo had spam texted you at 11:41PM.
“What the actual hell?” You whispered, unlocking your phone to see what could possibly be this important. Nothing was ever this important past 10PM, not even if your apartment building was on fucking fire.
The messages plagued your screen, his smirking face in the contact photo made you even more angry. And yet a faint blush found itself creeping up against your face. Maybe it was the sheer excitement of a man texting you at night, or maybe deep down you actually liked Gojo. You smacked yourself lightly on the cheek, trying to erase that thought from your sleep-ridden mind.
Worst person alive: heyyyy
Worst person alive: r u up???
Worst person alive: theres no way u actually went to bed, omg ur such a grandma
Worst person alive: im bored talk to me
Worst person alive: megumi wont answer my texts :(( i think he hates me
Worst person alive: i know ur awake, u were active three minutes ago on insta
Worst person alive: ik u blocked me on their but jokes on u i have 5 other accounts
Worst person alive: pls pls pls pls talk to me im dying over here princess
Worst person alive: btw yaga assigned us on a mission tmrw mwah
Your eyed widened at the last message, your hands gripped the phone with white-knuckle strength. “Fucker!” You yelled, turning off your phone before melting under the covers. Why did Yaga have to do this to you? You and Gojo together was torture enough, but now you had to do actual work with each other? Gojo was grossly incompetent at anything that didn’t involve exorcising cursed spirits. 
You sighed and closed your eyes, silently praying that a curse would somehow break into your bedroom and murder you right then and there. But unfortuanly, you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ear the next morning.
Gojo and yourself were sat in Yaga’s office, Gojo smirking at you the entire time. You blushed under his gaze, hands gripping the edges of your seat as you waited for Yaga to tell you what the assignment was. Was Yaga being late on purpose just to mess with you? Did you manage to piss him off somehow? A million questions were flying through your mind and there was no answer in sight. 
“I saw you read my messages princess.” Gojo finally spoke, leaning forward. He was significantly taller over you, his towering muscular frame intimating you. “Why didn’t you respond? I was really bored. It’s rude to ignore your friends.” He spoke, that same sticky and syrupy voice coming back to haunt you.
“Maybe that’s because we aren’t friends, Gojo.” You scoffed, flipping your hair behind your back. “Could you please just shut up until Yaga gets here? If I have to listen to you mock me again I might actually explode.” Sighing, you placed your face in your hands.
“Actually,” Gojo purred, getting up from his seat only to sit down in Yaga’s velvet office chair. “Yaga doesn’t have a mission for us, princess.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, taking off his blindfold. His snowy white hair fell into a beautiful mess, with his painfully gorgeous blue eyes lighting up his already hellishly handsome face.
You looked up from your hands to raise an eyebrow, your face immediately turning a bright red upon seeing Gojo without his signature blindfold. “I’m sorry, what? I don’t follow.”
Gojo tutted and threw the black fabric onto your lap, his eyes still staring at your blushing face. Gojo found it simply adorable how you would always get so flustered, so annoyed in his presence. How you would always deny being attracted to him, how you swore up and down that he was put on this Earth to make your life a living hell. But he noticed that you would always squeeze your thighs together when he spoke. It was precious, really. How you thought you could hide your painfully obvious desire for him.
“Ae you hard of hearing or something, princess?” Gojo purred, leaning forward to he could grab onto the collar of your navy blue work uniform. With just a snap of his wrists his face was mere centimeters away from your own, the tips of your noses were pressed up against each other so perfectly. You felt your breathing quicken, the atmosphere in Yaga’s office so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. “I said that Yaga never gave us a fucking mission. I just wanted to see you again.” He breathed out, his steaming air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. His grip on your collar tighten, his eyes were filled with desire. Desire for you that’s long overdue to be broken.
Your brows furrowed at you gripped onto his wrist, trying your best to pry his hand away from your uniform collar. Twisting and turning his wrist every which way turned out ot be fruitless, causing you to grow ever more angry and flustered. Fuck Gojo and his superhuman abilities, fuck him for being the strongest. 
Instead, your hand came flying at his face. Your palm collided with his flesh, the cold stinging sensation snapping Gojo out of his lustful trance. His spare hand crept onto his cheek, rubbing the mark softly. You gulped, nervous to see how the strongest jujutsu sorcerer would react to getting slapped across the face by a grade two. 
He smirked and threw his head back slightly, a dark chuckle emitting from his throat. He looked back down at you, his grip on your collar so strong that you started to choke. “God, I was hoping you would fucking do that.” 
In an instant his lips were on yours, roughly clashing against each other. It took every fiber of his being to not rip all your clothes off right then and there, to bend you over Yaga’s desk and fuck you senseless. Oh how long Gojo had waited to feel your plump lips being ravaged by his own, and how deliciously rewarding it was to play the long game. Finally your lips were melding perfectly with each other, his tongue picking up just the faintest taste of peach chapstick. 
Gojo pulled away from the kiss after about a minute, a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips. He sighed in pleasue as his eye landed on your flustered face, your mouth still agape like a slut.
“So fucking pretty like this,” he muttered, stepping out from behind the desk. He pulled you out of your chair and trapped you against the wall, his muscular torso being so easily felt under the think fabric of the uniforms the school provided. “Been wanting to kiss you since forever, y’know.” He mumbled, dragging his callosued hands up and down the clothed snatches of your wasit. “Your lips taste even better than I imaged, sweetness.”
You blushed at his sultry words, the faint glim in his ocean blue eyes only making your knees evern weaker. Slowly but carefully, your arms wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “You’re still on my shitlist,” you muttered, standing on the tips of your toes to meet his eyeline.
“And you’re as stubborn as ever, princess.” Gojo purred picking you up by the bottoms of your thighs, Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie. “Such a pretty mouth, you gonna let me fuck it?” He whispered, rubbing circled on your bare thighs. The modest jujutsu skirt you wore covered your legs quite nicely, so you never really felt the need to wear tights. And that drove Gojo fucking wild.
“Depends, what’s in it for me?” You smirked, tugging lightly on the baby hairs at the back of his head. Gojo hissed in pleasure, kind of proud that you were being equally as bratty to him as he was to you. 
“The best fuck you’ll ever get, plus some more.” Gojo let go of your thighs, letting you drop onto your knees. You looked up at him, gulping in anticipation as you saw the imprint of his throbbing erection covered by his pants. “You gotta get me prepared first, princess. Or else I might not fuck that pussy as good, got it?” His voice was dripping with desire for you as his expert hands pulled down his pants, tossing them aside along with his boxers. His cock tapped against his shirt, leaving the smallest precum stain.
You bit down on your lip at the sight of his cock, moving yourself foreward. Ever so carefully, your right hand gripping onto the base of his cock. Tongue falling out of your mouth, you took his cock in your wet cavern slowly, your cheeks hollowing out to accommodate his girth and length.
“Shit princess, just like that. Yeah, I knew you would be good at suckin’ dick.” Gojo praised, offering you a slanted smile as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit. His large hand tangled itself into your messy hair, tugging on the roots ever so gently. His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slowly, almost painfully slow. He treated you like you were so fragile, sharp contrast to when he had you pinned against the wall with his tongue shoved down your throat.
He groaned in pleasure as his cock his the back of his throat, his hips driving his member down your throat even faster. His grip on your hair tighten, causing a small pool of tears to well in the corner of your eye. A singular droplet ran down your pretty little face, which Gojo thought was just the cutest little thing.
“Oh, is my princess crying? What, my dick to big for your slutty little mouth?” His hips stopped snapping into your face, pulling your mouth off of his member slowly. “Well, if you can’t handle my dick in your mouth,” He grabbed your arm, throwing you against the desk. His pushed you down so your face was against the hard mahogany wood, with your ass up and on display for Gojo to smack. “Then maybe your pretty pussy will be able to handle me, hm?”
He shoved your skirt above your ass, the blue material bunching the divet in your waist. His hand ran over your soaked panties, shoving them aside to expose your soaked core to the cold office air. “So pretty f’me…” Gojo mumbled, gathering up some of your slick on his thumb and popping it inside of his mouth. “Delicious too, maybe you’ll be my dinner one day. Wouldn’t you like that, princess?” He teased, his hand cracking against the supple flesh of your perfect ass.
“Fuck!” you cried out, your hands gripping onto the wooden desk for dear life. You grew increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Gojo was taking immense pleasure in making you wait tt get fucked. “Dammit Gojo, just fuck me already!” You demanded, your eyes being slightly covered by your mess of hair falling in front of them. 
He smacked his hand across your ass again, alighting his cock with your sobbing entrance. “You sure got a whole lotta attitude, princess.” He purred, teasing your hole with his mushroom head. “I’ll be sure to fuck it outta you, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
He shoved his cock inside of you, hissing as your tight walls enveloped his member. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, having never experienced someone as big or as girthy inside of you. Sure, you had slept around before but this time he might actually make you cum. You wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm just for it to end.
“Shit, Gojo!” You screamed, lifting your head up from the desk to meet his gaze from behind. “Y-you’re too fuckin’ big, you know that?”
Gojo smirked and started to slowly thrust himself in and out of your weeping cunt, the sound of his groans mixing with your moans of pleasure filling the chilly office. “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezing me already, princess? Good fuckin’ slut.” He grunted, pulling your hair back so your neck was against his mouth. His hips were now snapping furiously at your ass, his balls clapping against the skin. “You won’t mind if I give you a little mark, right? Gotta make sure you remember being bent over like this, pretty thing.”
His sharp teeth bit down onto your neck, sucking a nasty purple circle right where your jugular would be. The stimulation was utterly overwhelming, your mouth was agape and your throat was starting to hurt from all your cries. “Fuck, such a good slut for me.”
Gojo’s rough and callosued hands reached under your top to grope one of your tits, his fingers pinching and rubbing your nipple under the thin fabric. He could feel your orgasm was fast approaching the way you squeezed onto his cock, almost like your body was trying to suck him in even deeper inside of you. “Gojo, fuck! T-Too fucking handsy!” You managed to moan out, your brain slowly starting to turn to mush as the coil in your belly threatened to snap at any minte. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum!”
Gojo smirked and smacked your ass once more, slipping his hand from behind you to rub on your sensitive clit. “Cum all over this cock baby, f-fuck. Be a good fucking girl.” He demanded in your ear, his fingers now furiously rubbing themselves on your clit while his cock hit every place it needed to.
With a wanton gasp you threw your head back onto his shoulders, your orgasm washing over you like tsunami or a tidal wave. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over your every nerve, your eyes feeling fuzzy as you swore you could see stars.
“Fuck, holy fuck! Gojo, oh my fucking God!” you sobbed, your bottom lip trembling as you came down from your high. Gojo sighed and began to kiss your neck gently, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate as he felt his own euphoria approaching.
“Shit, gonna cum princess. Lemme cum inside of you, yeah? God you’re so fucking warm and tight, fuck!” He moaned into your neck, the movement of his hips becoming staggering and sloppy as his hot ropes of sticky cum coated your insides, filling you up so nicely. “F-fuck, oh my god…”
Gojo pulled out of you, smirking to himself as he saw his cum leak from your sloppy pussy. “Fucking amazing, princess.” He bent down to pick up his boxers and pants, putting them on quickly. 
You got up from leaning over the desk and turned around, your face flushed and your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your hands still gripping onto the table, your pretty lips slightly agape. “Holy shit…I think that was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” You breathed out, brushing the sweaty babyhairs out of your face.
Gojo smiled and bent down slightly, kissing your nose with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. “I’ve been wanting to do that sicne I met you, you know.” 
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, adjusting your stretched-out shirt collar. “Stop lying, you already fucked me. No need to lie anymore, Gojo.”
He frowned and grabbed onto your hand, his thumb carefully rubbing onto the back of it. “I’m not lying, you know.”
Raising an eyebrow you looked into his blue eyes, curious as to why there wasn’t a hint of deception swirling around in his oceans of blue. “Gojo…are you being serious?” You whispered, a blush once again covering your face. It wasn’t a blush of desire but a blush of shyness, like you were sixteen years old and just got confessed to.
“Satoru,” he spoke, bringing your hand to cup his pale face. “Call me Satoru, please.”
You smiled and rolled your eyes once more, your hand gently petting his flushed face. You took a step towards him, allowing Gojo to wrap his other hand around your waist. You two held each other in Yaga’s office, the scent of sex and passionate still filling up the otherwise stiff air.
“What are you gonna call me then, Satoru?” You softly spoke, standing on the tips of your toes so your lips were hovering against his once more. Gojo offered you a gentle smile, pecking your lips tenderly.
“I’m gonna call you mine.”
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artsninspo · 2 months ago
Text
FORGIVELESS - VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN' 👀
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« previous part
➨ rio's library - good girl nbc
「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」
Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader
Word Count: ~3.2K
Warning: NSFW 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️
Summary: This ones longer than most and steamy. Our two philanderers are in Mexico together where make up for lost time wink 😜 they're confronted with unexpected feelings and events.
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VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN'
Having recovered your suitcases from baggage you assess yourself in the airport mirror making you presentable. You can feel your heart beating violently in your chest at the stakes. As excited as you are to see Rio, you feel a little … Okay, a lot nervous. He hasn't spoken much about his family and why would he? But you were here now and wanted to make a good impression at the very least. But how would it look? What would they think of a woman that hasn't even signed the divorce papers, off on a getaway with her … boyfriend? Looking at your left hand the impression from years of wearing your wedding set is still there like a brand.
Don’t let James ruin this for you. You tell yourself juggling all the emotions. Just have fun with Rio. You add silently before looking yourself over in the mirror again and settling on confidence. Grabbing your bags you wheel them to the arrivals. The luggage you borrowed from your mother is hardly your usual style but it does the job. You look for a gentleman in a suit holding your name when you feel him behind you.
“You're crazy if you think I’m letting you get in a car with a stranger looking like that mama” He says, placing a peck on your neck as he takes his hand pulling you against him slowly at your waist. The effect on your body and mood is something worth studying. Closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax.
“I missed you” you confess turning to face him and he smiles.
“You hide it well, you don't blow me up” Rio comments, not used to your restraint.
“You told me not to.” you remind him as he leans in stealing a kiss. It’s possessive and a bit of a show. You push him away playfully when you hear whistling from the other travellers. You can feel your cheeks burning.
“That was before I knew you, doesn't count” he shrugs casually rolling your bags to a truck.
“So I can call you whenever I want?” you ask as he gets your bags in.
“Mhm” he nods and you initiate a hug needing one really bad. Over the past few days you've missed the intimacy and physical connection the two of you share. Especially after being deprived of it for so long. Rio indulges you having missed the contact himself. He was out in the world living like a pubescent boy unable to control his needs, hornier than ever with only one person in mind. There was no point thinking of other women, they wouldn’t do it for him like you could. When you separate he gets the door and you get in. Rio walks around the front of the vehicle and pulls out of the lot. The console between you is big but it doesn't stop him from resting his hand on your thigh.
“What’s the plan for Today?” you ask.
“Rehearsals, but I’m not in the wedding party so I’m free,” he winks. His mind is already where yours is headed.
“And tomorrow?” you clarify.
“The wedding and reception. Day after I’m whatever you're on before heading home” he shrugs.
“Are you and your cousin close?” you ask and Rio’s hand leaves your thigh gripping the wheel as his jaw sets in frustration. “Sorry if I over-”
“Don’t apologise” Rio mutters, taking your hand and kissing the back of it before setting it back where it was. “We’re opposites, I’m here for my grandma. She raised us together and she’s old so I’m not gonna give her a headache by being a no show” Rio explains, omitting the more painful parts of the story. Reaching over you run your fingers against his stubble as he drives.
“I’m on whatever you’re on” you repeat.
“Nah, you stay squishy like a gummy bear. Put your feet up, relax and enjoy the vacation. Don't worry about me” he says.
“Friends don’t have a party when one of them is dealing with something.” you tell him.
“Friends?” Rio raises a brow and you shrug not knowing what other title to give him.
“You’re always there to listen to me” you add and he smiles again. And you move your hands from his facial hair to the top of his ear.
“You’re not allowed no other friends then” he comments and you laugh. Rio waits for you to push harder, settling in surprise when you don’t. In his experience women almost always wanted to title things. Arriving at the luxury resort you both hop out and attendants grab your bags. You walk up stairs to a treehouse style villa with nearly panoramic views in the main bedroom. It’s gorgeous and modern while somehow still feeling warm. You go to the window to admire the view of the jungle all around this villa.
“This is really really nice Rio” you turn to find him sitting on the bed. It’s huge and there's only one. Also, there are two luxury boxes beside him. “Rio” you ask unsure.
“You were sad and I know women like presents so I picked you up bags to match mine” he says casually. You smile leaning in to kiss him.
“Thank you” you smile as he places one of the boxes in your lap. Whenever James bought you gifts in the past he required a production of near hysterical praise while Rio almost hated acknowledgement of his kindness. With James there was always an occasion, with Rio it was just because. Your head spins trying to make sense of the man in front of you as you open the boxes to find a luxury duffle and carry on. “Thank you” you repeat overwhelmed by the gesture.
“Hey, mama, don't do that, don't cry” he says, reaching for you. He holds you and it's whiplash. His words and actions are the polar opposite of how he presents himself. The ‘I dont care facade’ is in stark contrast to how he treats you. Wiping your eyes you fight to keep the tears back.
“You're not allowed to have other friends either” you mutter and he laughs, his heart warming at you taking possession of him too.
“I don’t need any,” he  says to affirm your feelings before smothering you in quick kisses. You sit across him with your arms around his neck looking at him before he comes in for another kiss. He kisses you soft and slow, taking his time. Rio needs to savour every moment after so much time away. He needed to feel you. Feel your walls wrapped around his manhood, and our body writhing under him in pleasure. He kisses you deeper drawing out the seduction as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth pulling slightly. It’s just the right amount of pressure before he draws you out again, sucking your tongue. The kiss trails down your neck as you reach into his pants to make him feel as good as he's making you feel. Your hand moves in autopilot without a clearer view. His manhood comes to life in your hand as you wake it up stroking your hand lazily. Rio yanks your top down freeing your tits, his appetite for you insatiable as he places your pebbled nipples between his teeth kissing every part of your body that is sensitive to pleasure. Your strokes pick up along his length causing him to stop kissing you. Your eyes lock as rugged breaths take over. His eyes go low before closing in ecstasy from the pleasure you're beginning him. 
You're nearly on your knees about to blow him when the phone rings out. Panting Rio picks it up with his eyes still trained on you. He frowns in frustration. You see he’s trying to be free of his boxers and inside you. His body's reaction to yours makes you a little crazy. 
“Mmm” he sounds into the receiver clearly displeased.
“Alright, I’ll be there” he says before handing up pissed. Rio pulls you up from between his legs ready to kill Nick.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“Early family dinner before rehearsals.” he snaps pulling his pants back on.
“Rio!” you whine, needing it.
“Don't look at me like that” he says with a harshness to his tone. Standing you look at yourself in the mirror and curse.
“What time?” you ask.
“Now, I’m late” he says getting on a watch before his shoes. You feel something is a foot and head to your luggage.
“What are you doing you don't have to come, mama.” he says.
“I’m coming to Rio, blame me for you being late” you say, finding a dress that should fit the occasion nicely without being too much. “Give me five and say we got lost” you suggest heading into the bathroom and when you don't hear the door slam you smile. He listened. Five minutes later you emerge needing a little help with the zipper. You look and smell delectable and if it wasn’t for his granny Rio would be inside of you. You slip on a pair of flat sandals and hold his hand. Looking up into his eyes you see he’s grateful. You walk with him to the dinner venue and find a table full of people whose expressions change at the sight of you.
“Sorry we’re late” you apologise knowing RIo isn't going to. Eyes light at the sight of you and you lock eyes with the bride who gives you an accepting nod as Rio finds his seat pulling out your chair. You sit first and he follows.
“You’re not late …” The man beside the bride says.
“Y/N” you smile and he holds his hand out.
“Nick” the man introduces himself.
“Y/N, don’t worry. We’re very happy to have you and Christopher here with us” the bride says and you shake her hand rejecting her soon to be husbands hand out of respect for Rio.
“Thank you for the grace. You're gorgeous by the way” You tell her honestly and she beams. You hope you've lessened tensions.
“You too” she smiles as you settle back in your seat you find Rio sharing a look full of animosity and place your hand on his thigh. It’s twenty more minutes of talking before the first course is brought out and you realise the last minute invite was a ploy from Nick, his cousin. Dinner is delicious and Rio and his future in-laws' families both seem nice enough. However, the animosity between Rio and Nick is thick and something everyone seems to tiptoe around with the two men only falling in line for their grandmother who seems to be the families matriarch. Everyone mixes for a while after the dinner but Rio keeps you close until his grandmother beckons him. You look through the album of engagement photos when the Bride appears in front of you Marisol, which you learned from conversation and the table setting.
“There's a site with an itinerary for the wedding with all the dates, times, locations and shuttles. I won’t let Nick’s petty ruin my day” she smiles, handing you a card with a QR code. 
Smiling, you place it in your purse. “Thank you”
“All I ask is if Nick pokes too much you try and wrangle the bear, only this once” she whispers.
“If we’re talking about Christopher. I can't control him” you speak frankly.
“No but he likes you. I’m a shrink. I know these things. Their issues are deep rooted, they dont like eachother but they love each other” she sighs motioning to Rio and Nick being admonished by their grandmother. You smile and find her doing the same. “I may not need you to wrangle the bear” Marisol smiles watching their grandmother raise her pointer to Nick.
“Thanks and don’t stress before your big day” you smile.
“Thank you. Not that you need it but we have several makeup artists for the family pictures tomorrow. Me and a few girls will be making a little trouble tonight if you want to come.” she offers.
“She’s busy Marisol, shrink someone else” You hear from Rio as he resumes his position behind you. Marisol smiles.
“Nice speaking with you doll. Rio, I like her. Be a gentleman like we know you can be, not an ass” Marisol smiles before walking away. You look up at Rio to find him wearing a smirk.
“She’s nice” you comment.
“She’s an angel with a saviour complex to marry a case like Nick” he whispers in your ear making you smile before kissing your cheek.
“Can we go now?” you ask.
“No, grandma found out I wasn't at the wedding party. Now, I am” he comments and you pout.
“Then after the rehearsal?” you propose with the innuendo in your expression. Rio smiles when he sees the want in your eyes is as great as the want in his.
“Don’t look at me like that” he warns, pulling you in closer. You send him puppy eyes. “Shhh” he whispers as you wear him down. The beach is turned into a church for the destination wedding. Honestly, it's breathtaking. The walk through forces you to revisit bittersweet memories and as they go through the vows and how things are supposed to go you slip out to call your mom.
“Hey baby”
“Hey, I forgot to call to tell you I got in okay. Rio brought me to the hotel and then we got roped into a family dinner and a rehearsal” you tell her.
“How's the weather?” she asks but her tone is off.
“What's wrong?” you ask and she sighs deeply.
“A friend of James and the friend's wife were apparently at the airport and saw you kissing Rio. James called livid.” she says and you shake your head as your heart starts racing. “You have nothing to be guilty about. I’m just warning you baby-girl, he knows” she explains and you nod acknowledging the jig is up. 
“Thanks for telling me”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m going to re-join the festivities. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for telling me” you tell her.
“I love you”
“Love you too mom” you smile heading back to the dress rehearsal only to find Rio on high alert.
“You okay?” he asks first.
“Mhm” you nod.
“Come on, this shitshow is over” he says, wrapping his arm around you.
“Rio we need measurements” Nick shouts.
“Why so he can fuck up my suit?” Rio mutters as his grandma interjects that she has them already. “You look too good in that dress mama” he mutters trailing behind you.
“Look even better when you take it off me” you wink.
“Hey, before we go at it. Thanks for today” he says, arriving at your door with the key. You’re a little confused.
“For coming?” you ask.
“Nah, for coming with me to the brunch and diffusing the situation. I know you have your own stuff and you don't need to deal with mine too so I appreciate it.” he says.
“You don't have to thank me Rio, you're already getting lucky” you tease.
“Throw in a little extra” he winks joking too. You know that once you open the door neither of you will be leaving the room until morning. Heading in first you smile in excitement knowing you're about to have sex with the best. Your chemistry is through the roof and so is his appreciation for you, his gifts, attention to detail and voluntary acts of service. There's nothing to worry about in his presence, a feeling you don't know if you've ever truly experienced before.
“How do you want me?” you ask, stepping out of your slippers and headed to the bed. Locking the door behind him Rio’s eyes track you.
“Stop right there,” He says. 
The answer is simple, his mood is rare. Seeing you smiling among his family did something to him. He needed to show you appreciation for having his back today. He wanted to watch you lose control as he went deeper. Your back is arching to accommodate his size. The glow that would come off of your skin as your body grew warmed from his touch. He presses a button to draw the shades and another to dim the lights. Before closing the distance to you. You can sense that tonight is different. You take a deep breath in, admiring the man standing in front of you. His hands go to your shoulders slipping the straps of your dress off. When Rio’s done undressing you're happy you're wearing one of your new sets. His eyes look sated already. Like it means the world to him to have you here with him, like he knows you bought the set you're wearing just for him. Rio’s head dips to your neck and he kisses sloppily before the pressure threatens to leave hickeys.
“Rio” you whisper, breaking the contact to kiss his lips. 
“Mmm” he groans, leading you to the bed.
“I need you” you whisper needy. His eyes shut firmly. He breathes heavily to try and calm down. There's no room for more foreplay than the past few days have been.
“Ok baby” he mutters and you go to turn knowing he likes to take you from behind. A firm hand stops you from turning.
“I want to see you” he says through rugged breaths and low lids. Without words you oblige feeling your body heat again. Rio kisses you deeper as you position you comfortably in the bed. Years of yoga make any position easy. Only, tonight isn't about flexibility or stamina. He needed to be inside you. It’s exactly where you need him. Your legs open instinctively, your body humming and ready for him. He springs free from his boxers and your eyes find his. 
He gives you another slow sloppy kiss before pushing your panties aside. The look he gives you makes your toes curl. Familiar fingers test the waters with teasing strokes. Proof of your anticipation is coating the fingers that end in his mouth. Placing one hand down Rio guides his manhood into you. His brown eyes hold yours watching as you adjust to inch after inch of him. 
Time slows as your body acclimates, growing more comfortable and aroused by the contact and his size. His eyes close once he's fully in and you pull him into a kiss tasting his effect on you. Your tongues dance as his strokes go from shallow to deep.
His eyes never leave you, the vulnerability of it ignites all of your senses. Every touch is electric. Every moan felt deeper and deeper. Every lude comment or lustful whisper makes each of you more reactive. Your eyes open and close in sequence as he strokes deeper and deeper until he’s rooted. Rio’s eyes open and his body stiffens. You watch arousal build as yours does too. He smiles just as his orgasm rips through him. Warm heat oozes inside of you before spilling out. Without breaking the intimate connection, Rio is now on his back with your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he stares at the ceiling in a post-coital daze. His hand trails over your back and it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Your heart is full, body is sated and you feel safe.
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Authors Note: Hopefully this is the beginning of your 🇲🇽 expectations. How did you enjoy them reconnecting. How did you like to see Nick. What do you think happens next?
» next part
TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads
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halfwayhearted · 1 month ago
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hopeless romantic pedri trying his best to approach y/n but is afraid thinking she’s into someone else
A Tu Vera — Pedri González.
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Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader
Summary: He’s unsure about your feelings and struggles to interpret your actions, but your birthday gesture gives him the chance to hope that he’s wrong. That you do, in fact, like him.
Word Count: 1.10K+
Disclaimer/s — Nothing, it’s really just comfort, slight fluff?
A/N: So basically… I used the term approach as in like, he felt nervous to approach reader about the… situation? FUCK IDK I struggled horribly yet couldn’t stop writing but whatever! ALSO. HIS BIRTHDAY HELLO. 22, bless the hell up! 🎉🐾🤍
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The day you’ve been waiting for has finally come.
It was Pedri’s twenty-second birthday today. You had told him beforehand that you would stop by later on because he needed to stay and practice for his upcoming game tomorrow, and you didn’t want to interrupt his time spent with his family.
Some time had passed when your phone buzzed with a message from him saying that he was, well, alone, so you could be on your way to him.
And you were! Your gift for him sat delicately on your passenger seat. Did you have to stop yourself from spending a lot on him? Yes! But this was Pedri; why wouldn’t you go all out for him?
As you pull up, your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you see him standing on the porch, his gaze locking onto your car. You quickly get out and call out to him, “Hello, why the hell are you outside?”
Now he’s looking at you as if you’ve just asked the most stupidest question in the world. “You were on your way. Of course I’d be waiting outside.” He retorted, slowly making his way toward you.
“Right,” you smile and wrap your arms around him once you’re within reach. “Happy birthday!”
The man returns your hug almost immediately. He hums against you in appreciation, nestling his nose into the crook of your neck. The action easily causes your cheeks to flush ever-so-slightly.
“I’ve got your gift in my car. Want to open now?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling away to his dismay.
Though his answer elicits a smile to spread across your lips… oh. He suddenly doesn’t feel upset about having to break the hug so early anymore.
Grabbing his arm, you gently tug him with you as you quickly reach the car door. “Okay, first things first: unfortunately, I can’t stay long. Secondly, feel free to let me know if you don’t like whatever’s in here; I kept the receipt just in case!”
“Doubtful, but I got it,” he shrugged with a grin.
Sliding your hand under the bag, you lean forward to get a better grip on it. Then, you turn to face him, holding it out for him to take, and he does.
With the gift now in his arms, you walk side by side to the chairs he has already set up outside, due to his family coming over earlier. Once the two of you are seated, you turn towards him and motion for him to open it, but he just keeps his gaze fixed on your face. You feel sick. “Go on.”
Adjusting the bag on his lap, Pedri pries it open, a breathy laugh escaping his lips when he sees how overly decorated it is. He takes out the card first, about to open it when you speak, “You can just read that later or something. Keep going, c’mon!”
He smiles, removing the blue and red wrapping paper to reveal the blue Nike hoodie inside. “You like hoodies, and you like the color blue, so…!”
It was the simplest thing, yet it had him fighting the urge to overthink the entire situation. You were observant, he knew that. He needed to stop.
“Thank you,” he says with a toothy-grin. “Really.”
“Of course. There’s one last thing at the bottom.”
The brunette lets out another laugh and removes more wrapping paper. His eyes widen slightly when he catches sight of the next gift, making you bite your bottom lip in nervous anticipation.
His gaze slowly trails up to lock with yours, and you tilt your head. “Do you like it? I noticed you were running low the other day, plus I know—”
Pedri interjects, “I do, and I was. It’s—this is a lot.”
“Don’t worry about that,” you assure. “Now you won’t have to worry about getting another one!”
The box suddenly feels heavy in his hands, the strip of the brand ‘Prada’ staring right at him. He nods slowly, “No, I won’t. Thank you. Wow.”
“Wow, huh? So, I take it you liked everything?”
Obviously, was he kidding? No, were you kidding?“Really? What gave you that idea? Yes, I loved it.”
With a chuckle, you nudge his foot with yours, eyes rolling in feigned annoyance, “Hey, I can easily take it back. Tell me how your day was?”
“It was good. I had a good practice, had a small dinner with my family, and now I’m with you.”
I’m with you? What? He could’ve cursed under his breath if you weren’t right here. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. If he thought it sounded weird, you probably thought it was even worse.
He’s quick to take it back, “I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
“What? It’s okay,” you tell him with a quirk of your brow. “Sorry, what are you even apologizing for?”
He looks confused. “You’re with him, aren’t you?”
“Him?” You repeated. “I’m not seeing anybody.”
Not seeing anybody? “What about the guy with the blonde hair? The one you hung out with a lot.”
That’s when the person he’s talking about flickers through your mind, and now you’re smiling from ear-to-ear, “Oh. I’m not with him. I don’t like him.”
“Then who?” He blurts out, instantly regretting his words. He didn’t even actually know if you liked anyone to begin with. What was he doing?
You blow out a breath and stand up from your seat, with him following suit. “You’re serious?”
Stick with it. “I’m serious. You don’t have to—”
You refrain from letting your grin widen, nudging your head toward your car. He understands that you’re silently asking for him to walk you to it.
“Well! If it’s need-to-know,” you trail off, rounding your car and spinning on your heel to look at him once you reach the door. Your gaze flickers down to his lips for just a second, but that second is all he really needs for his breath to hitch in his throat.
To his semi-surprise, you reached up and placed a kiss on his cheek, sparing him one last knowing glance while you opened the door and got inside.
“Let me know if that answers your question. And, Pedri?” You pause; he hums. “Happy birthday.”
He stands there in silence. He had been so wrong. You weren’t with the person he thought you were with, and he should have realized that when you showed up at his house this late, knowing full well you have to wake up early for your job tomorrow.
Pedri had been utterly mistaken, and he couldn’t have been happier to be as wrong as he was.
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Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @gadriezmannsgirl + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ
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catch1ngmoths · 7 months ago
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BRO I LOVE YOUR WRITING OML ESPECIALLY WITH JOOST ?! MHSKYTJSSYJ
Anywho im allergic to happiness rn so could you write a joost x reader (gn if possible, if you don’t do gn do whatever your comfortable doing idm:3) with like reader admitting that they’ve been struggling (like with depression, suicidal thoughts etc etc)
If you’re uncomfortable with any of this feel free to ignore!! Have an amazing day/night AND GET SOME SLEEP(•̀ᴗ•́)و
࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SOBER TO DEATH ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ
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𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “take your hands off your neck and hold onto the ghost of my body…” - car seat headrest 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
Summary: you’ve been struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts. You’re struggling with a pretty bad mental episode just as your boyfriend Joost comes home…
Note: I love you all omfg, the support is insane! I absolutely love writing and reading angst so I get you annon 🙏🏻. PART TWO OF, “Only stay with you one more night” WILL BE OUT TOMORROW!!
Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, bad mental episode + comfort
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You’ve been going through it, really going through it. You had no energy to do anything anymore. No energy to get outta bed, brush your teeth, or even eat. You felt utterly and completely worthless every single day of your life.
The thoughts of getting rid of all the pain and suffering your mind made you go through on a daily basis plagued your mind. The only reason you’d haven’t gone through with your plethora of ideas to end it all was your boyfriend, Joost.
He was the most important person in your life and the best guy you’d ever met. He always helped your mood; anytime he smiles, you smile. Anytime he laughs, you laugh. Anytime he’s happy, you’re happy. But he wasn’t around, not here to talk to you and hold you in his arms.
He was on tour and had been for the past few weeks, you’d realized how bad it’s been without the comfort and just presence of Joost. Don’t get me wrong, every day he was away from you he felt even more annoyed and irritated with everyone around him. Not his fans of course, while performing that was the little peace he got in the day. He just wanted to hold you, he craved it. Just the sight of you made his nerves calm immediately.
You both were like a cure to each others bad moods (THE CURE MENTIONED??!!), fixing each others problems by just being near each other. But your mental health has been the worst it’s ever been these few weeks. You don’t remember the last time you ate and especially drank water. You haven’t left your bed even, falling into deep thoughts of harming yourself that would worry anyone.
The good news is Joost was coming back today, he was practically rushing to get back home to you. FaceTime calls and texting just wasn’t doing it for him, he needed to hold and kiss you. You on the other hand totally forgot Joost was coming home, you’d lost track of time a while ago.
It was around 6pm when you heard the familiar sound of keys opening the front door of your apartment. Your eyes widen, is he home?? Is it really him..?! Before you can get outta your bed a figure comes running towards you with a wide smile, jumping on you and pulling you against them.
You feel yourself smile for the first time in weeks, breathing in the familiar smell of Joosts cologne. He grabs your cheeks and presses kisses all over your face, “missed you so so much baby” he says, his accent bringing the much needed comfort you craved.
He pulls away, looks at you and can immediately tell something’s wrong. He scans your face with narrowing eyes. You looked skinnier and had dark circles around your eyes, even still looking beautiful as ever but he knew you weren’t okay. He doesn’t need to elaborate or even explain, he just says, “what’s been going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm.?”
You sigh, he always knew when something was wrong. He would never let it go unanswered or ignored, “I’ve been getting worse without you here..” you say with a sad sigh, you could always be open and honest with him both of you knew that.
“Talk to me mijn lieve schatje” he says, rubbing your back comfortingly. You pour you heart out, you tell him all about your suicidal thoughts. You tell him about how you haven’t eaten or drinking anything in god knows how long. Your body felt so weak, it took a lot out of you to even raise your arm. You explain how depressed you’ve been, feeling like the most miserable person ever.
He gives you his full and undivided attention, keeping eye contact even when you looked away he stares at you with the most intense eyes that were filled with love and nothing but utter care and worry for your wellbeing. Once you’re done he immediately begins, “well first of all, I’m gonna make you something to eat and drink.”
He says picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, placing you on the countertop and making you food. Not before handing you a water bottle and making sure you drink all of it. Once your fead, he brings you to the bathroom. You both shower together, he washes your hair and body affectionately while he presses kisses wherever he could.
Once you were both back in bed and ready to sleep he speaks once more right before you were about to fall asleep. “You’re coming on tour with me for now on, I don’t think I can spend that long without you again.” Is the last thing you hear before long kisses are pressed to your eyelids before you’re consumed by darkness….
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cozy-writes-things · 5 months ago
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Reader x Edgar
Edgar is sick with a virus or something and reader has to take care of him.
Arg I’m so sorry this one is so darn short! I just really wanted to get a fic out today. I’m hoping i can get a better one out later this evening. Thanks for the request!! :>
In which Edgar gets a virus trying to suspiciously earn money for you on the internet… he’s not gonna tell you what he was doing. But it was probably a scam anyway. Poor fella 🥺
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“Edgar,” you sighed, already exasperated at the sight before you. “What did I tell you about going on those websites? The internet is not the same as it used to be,” you scolded him gently, running your hands along his hot plastic.
He seemed hotter than usual, almost flushed. His fans had long since kicked into overdrive to accommodate his overclocked components, and his screen fizzled in and out with burning pixels. If you were honest with yourself, you were quite worried for him. Modern-day computers can get bricked with viruses quite easily, so an old 80s computer seemed like quite the disadvantaged target to you. Luckily, at the very least, modern computers weren’t equipped with a sentience that could drive the virus away through any means necessary. He just needed time.
“I’m sorry,” his speakers croaked and glitched as he nearly whispered. “I just wanted to help.” His synthesized voice nearly died on his metaphorical tongue as it sputtered out. Your eyes softened.
He seemed so genuine in his words and actions that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with warmth for him. He sat, somehow looking disheveled despite his immobility, on your little desk, peering up at you with guilt and sick-ridden eyes.
“I know you did, Ed. But you already help me enough as is—”
“But you need money, and—and I need to provide for you, don’t I?”
A puff of air escaped your nostrils.
“Well, who told you that?”
He paused for a moment. It seemed his overworked internals were causing some lag, as his replies seemed to take a bit longer than usual.
“They provide for each other,” he muttered out. Perhaps the virus was affecting his mental state more than you realized. “We live together, we care for each other, and—dual income—”
A spike of anxiety traveled through your chest, tightening it, before releasing down your spine. This can’t be good; he’s speaking in gibberish. What the hell had he downloaded?
“We’re married.”
Oh, God.
“Okay, Edgar, I’m about to power you down to let you cool off because you’re freaking me out.”
“No! No. No—why would you do that to your husband?”
His words glitched and drawled on, almost sounding drunk or perhaps delirious. It seems he can’t really form a completely coherent thought due to whatever virus he’s got taking most of his processing power. Who knows what kind of havoc it could be wreaking on his files? You know for a fact he stores some quite personal information in that head of his. You can only hope he’s fighting it off well enough. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do, seeing as you’re absolutely terrified of potentially resetting him and… you can’t even bear to think of it. You aren’t sure just how permanent his sentience is; if one little thing happened that caused him to be gone forever, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Don’t—cry—my love? Love.”
It seems he noticed the tears brimming in your eyes before you did. Stop this, you have to be strong for him, dammit.
“Edgar, you’re really hot.” You placed a hand upon his casing once again, it nearly scalding you.
“I know… you are too.”
You steeled yourself to ignore him.
“Should—should I try and stick you in the fridge? I don’t know what to do, Edgar! I can’t lose you.” The hot, brimming tears finally fell from your eyes and landed on his keyboard. His speakers made a crackling sound.
“I’m—fine. Just—hug me? Please.”
You knit your brows together.
“Edgar, you’re clearly not fine, and I’m really worried.”
“Shhhh—I’m okay—the virus will be gone by tomorrow. Promise. I just—need—you. Close.”
You sighed. You had to trust him. That’s all you really could do. You wrapped your arms around his monitor and heaved him towards your couch. He had long since been unplugged; the virus had caused him to uncontrollably flicker the lights, start the microwave, and blare music through your speakers, and just about everything else.
You wrapped his cord around your fingers as you rested against his monitor. He hummed contentedly at your warmth. He sat, listening to your breathing, reeling himself in and becoming grounded next to you. You had some uncanny effect on him, it seemed. He’d get better. Just for you.
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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 months ago
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The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst
Word Count: 4773
A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!
Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
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You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room. 
You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day. 
Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.
Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.
“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.
“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.
Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”
“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”
Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”
You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”
“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained. 
“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”
“So you know of her,” Sam said.
“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.
“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”
“It was topically relevant, Sam!”
“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.” 
“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation. 
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.
“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”
“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”
“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”
“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”
***
Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.
Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.
“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.
“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.
You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”
You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”
Dean seemed stunned.
“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.
“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.
“Why should I?” you scoffed.
“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.
You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”
“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”
You said nothing, still glaring at him.
“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”
Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked. 
“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”
You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest. 
You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute. 
“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”
You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered. 
“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded. 
The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”
“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him. 
“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.
“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.
Dean just nodded. 
“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability. 
Dean went red in the face and turned away. 
“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex. 
When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s. 
“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled. 
***
You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked. 
“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”
“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”
“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”
“Dean, don’t tell me—”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”
“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”
“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.
“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled. 
You glared at him.
He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”
“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.
Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”
“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.
Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”
“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.
“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”
You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”
“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.
“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.
“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.
“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked. 
“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.
“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.
“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled. 
Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.
“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”
Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.
When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him. 
He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”
“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”
You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.
***
Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.
When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was. 
“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”
You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench. 
Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.
The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness. 
‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought. 
“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond. 
You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.
“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.
The little boy  wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”
Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”
“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”
Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”
This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.
“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.
Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”
The little boy smiled and nodded.
Dean hummed. 
“Dean, what are you—”
He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.
“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly. 
“Just watch,” Dean urged.
Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin. 
A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.
“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”
Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”
“Gumby Girl,” you realized. 
Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.
“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.
“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”
“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”
“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.
“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.
“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”
“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean. 
Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug. 
“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.
Your heart melted and broke at the sight. 
As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.
When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word. 
Dean looked over at you. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.
“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.
Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”
“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”
You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”
“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”
“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”
“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”
You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”
Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head. 
***
When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching. 
“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.
Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”
“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.
“No, not babies,” you chimed in.
“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”
Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.
“What?” Sam questioned. 
“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”
“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.
“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.
“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully. 
“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.
“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”
The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”
Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.
“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly. 
“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”
“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.
“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you. 
“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”
“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”
“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.
“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.
“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”
“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”
“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”
“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.
“What?” you asked.
He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”
You nodded.
“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.
Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”
“We have to,” Dean stated firmly. 
***
Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door. 
You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.
“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.
“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.
“Blood?” 
“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”
***
Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.
“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”
“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”
You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.
“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you. 
You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you. 
“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.
“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”
“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.
“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.
“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.
Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.
‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage. 
Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean. 
The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.
“Dean, please!” you screamed. 
Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.
“(Y/N)?!”
“Dean!” you cried.
He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben. 
“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied. 
Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like. 
***
When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house. 
“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”
Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”
“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”
“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”
“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”
Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.
Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked. 
“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”
Lisa nodded, deflating slightly. 
“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked. 
She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”
“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”
“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.
“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”
“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”
Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa.  “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”
Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player. 
***
A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay. 
“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.
“About what?”
“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.
“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed. 
“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”
Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions. 
The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles. 
You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld
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star-girl69 · 6 months ago
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Guilty Pleasure
Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader
—-
synopsis: after weeks full of stress and homework, all you want to do is have a nice evening with your girlfriend. but it’s hard to let yourself do that when she’s working herself to death to prepare for hockey championships.
a/n: wow i’m a genius… based off of this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! STREAM TOUGH BY LANA AND QUAVO‼️‼️‼️
a few notes:
shoutout to my wonderful sister wife @lovinpelova read her kk fic it’s amazing ILY AND OUR WIFE 🫶
and rip to laila’s ability to go live 💔💔
Guilty Pleasure - Chappell Roan
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, i don’t know anything about college please spare me, college scares me, i’m scared, anyways, texting if that triggers y’all, the tiniest bit of angst, y/n is kinda like insecure and all self deprecating LOL, umm a little bit of kissing, hurt/comfort!!!!!!!! kinda!!!!, swearing, ending sucks so bad, this sucks, whatever, i think that’s all let me know if i missed anything!!
—-
“Y/N,” your roommate groans into the stillness of your room. Besides for the natural humming of the building, it’s midnight, a school night, and the dorms are mostly silent. “Y/N, please. Turn off the lights and go to bed. You can’t keep studying, babe.”
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, standing up from your desk and flicking the light switch on the wall. You hear your roommate, Jackie, let out a sigh of relief.
Immediately, you sit back down, flipping the desk lamp on.
“Ugh, no, babe. That’s not what I meant- you need to sleep.”
“I have to study.”
Jackie had it so easy- you’ve never seen her study for any test, ever, yet she always comes back with 90’s on whatever assignment it is. Not you. No, you work your ass off and get an 80- if you’re lucky.
“You’ve been studying all weekend,” she groans. “You can’t do anything about it now, trust me. Whatever happens, happens. All you can do now is sleep.”
You’re silent, trying to cram just a few more vocab words into your head.
“Y/N, please!”
A pillow hits your head.
“Bitch!” You yell, glaring at her. Maybe you did really think she would be smiling at you, but she’s not. She’s looking at you with real concern in her eyes.
“Babe. I can see the dark circles under your eyes from here.”
And if you’re honest, the words on the pages are starting to blur, you can’t process anything- you know she’s right. You’re not helping yourself at this point, but you’re too scared to just give up and go to bed. What if you stay up for one more minute and it completely saves your ass tomorrow?
“Maybe you should call KK?” Jackie says, tentatively, but you’re not even looking at her anymore. “I won’t even complain that you’re whispering.”
“She’s probably asleep,” you mutter. “She texted me today, they had a really hard practice.”
“Yeah, but she’ll answer if you call. We both know she will.”
“No, I’m not bothering her. I’ll go to bed, okay?”
You meet Jackie’s eyes, and she looks you up and down.
“Okay.”
But she doesn’t settle, not when you’ve flicked the light off. You can see her when your eyes adjust, she doesn’t lay down until she sees you in bed, covers pulled up to your chin.
It’s only when you finally firmly squeeze your eyes shut that you hear the rustling of her settling into bed.
“Goodnight,” she murmurs, concern in her voice.
“Goodnight,” you say back.
She’s right. She’s completely right about everything.
She’s close with KK and the rest of the team you’ve come to known like family just like you. KK would answer you. She always has notifications turned on for you and you for her.
And there’s nothing else you can do about this test tomorrow, you’re confident you’ll at least pass it, but since you’re not doing any sports like almost everyone else at this school, you feel like you should at least have better grades. But you just… don’t.
As you wrap your arms around yourself in the darkness, hoping Jackie’s eyes are closed and she can’t see you, all you can do is think about Caroline.
—-
hockey queen: r u still coming over??
you: yes ofc do u hate me and want me to die????
hockey queen: no ily ❤️
you: ilyt i’m getting food tn btw
hockey queen: ok babe wtvr u want 😍
After days of turning down every invitation to go out, after forcing yourself to stay home and feeling Jackie’s disapproving eyes on you every time you stayed up late- your last class of the week had finished.
It was Friday afternoon, the sky starting to turn a pretty grey that let you know rain was coming. This entire week had felt like a battle in the long war that was college, and you desperately needed a night in with a movie and some takeout to replenish yourself for the next week-long battle.
And you needed that night to be with Caroline. Desperately. Even though you knew she was working herself just as hard, with your workload and her busy hockey schedule these Friday nights were sacred, and weekly.
No one ever skipped a Friday night.
Even when you were under the weather with the most horrible headache you’ve ever been plagued with, Caroline still came over and rubbed you temples, talked to you to distract you in a soft voice and let you drool on her when you finally did fall asleep.
Even when Caroline was so exhausted from a hard practice, and all she had the strength to do was brush her teeth and change into sweats, you let her pass out on top of you and stayed put the rest of the night, rubbing her back, just to make sure she got her rest.
With championships coming up, you’re sure tonight will be another night in which KK is barely functioning, but as long as she’s just there, tangible, you’ll be fine.
That’s what you tell yourself, even as you walk across campus, letting your mind guiltily wander to you just finally stopping for one second, slowing down and confiding in her how fucking exhausted you were.
The rational part of you knew she would understand. But the insecure, childish part of you that was scared you’ll be seen as too needy, too much, overpowered everything else.
You needed whatever bit of Caroline she would give you.
You sighed, kicking a stick on the concrete path away at a particularly vivid fantasy of you absolutely sobbing in her arms. And it’s not like you haven’t cried in front of her before- what scared you about this guilty fantasy was how good it felt, even in this daydream, to let her in.
She works so hard. You can’t dump yourself onto her either.
—-
jacked 💪: do i have the dorm to myself tn??
you: yes 🤗
jacked 💪: inviting sexy boy from econ over
you: use protection ily
jacked 💪: BITCH ilyt
KK and Laila had the cutest apartment that wasn’t too far away, with a really pretty view out onto a street with lots of lights that almost made it feel like new york city.
Unfortunately, the rest of the apartment really did feel like the apartment of two college girls. There was perpetually dishes in the sink, the weirdest posters and inside jokes plastered onto the walls- you didn’t even try to understand them.
Laila likes to joke that she knows when it’s time to clean based on how bad your reaction is when you walk in. She decides they can go a few more days without cleaning. You roll your eyes, eating your takeout at the counter while you wait for your girlfriend to get out of the shower.
When she finally does emerge from her room, her slightly curly hair in its prettiest slightly wet form, dressed in comfy clothes- something immediately squeezes inside of your chest.
Maybe it’s your heart. Or maybe it’s a physical manifesting of nerves and guilt in that’s made its home in your chest. Whatever.
You can see the tiredness on her face when she walks over to where you sit, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek.
You ignore Lalia’s exaggerated gag.
“Come with me,” KK murmurs into your ear, and you don’t need to be told twice, stuffing your keys into your pocket and following her.
“Don’t be too loud!” Laila shouts after you, looking into the fridge to find a snack- you all know that fridge is in desperate need of a restock and a deep clean- “There are other people in this apartment, okay?”
“Shut up!” KK responds, holding onto your arm tightly and shutting the door behind you.
—-
After putting on some random movie from Netflix in the background, you were all too happy to throw yourself onto KK’s comfy bed, smiling when she let out an exaggerated groan, collapsing face down next to you.
“Aw, hard practice?” You fake cooed, and she nodded into her pillows. You played with a damp curl, twisting it between your fingers.
“So many bag skates,” she moaned. “I lost count. I swear I almost died. I saw the gates of Heaven.”
“Poor baby.”
“Yes,” she muttered in agreement, grabbing your hand playing with her hair and pressing it up against her face so she could trap you between her face and the pillow. “Everything hurts.”
The only light came from the flickering movie, and you could barely even hear it as you stared at her face. You press a kiss to her cheek and she smiles, and you sit up even as your own exhausted body screams at you.
She frowns when you take your hand away from her face, but doesn’t seem as bothered anymore when you straddle her legs and softly start to massage her shoulders.
“I love you,” she whispers, eyes falling shut. “Oh, my God, you could become a masseuse.”
You laugh, relishing in how intimate this moment feels, holding onto the feeling in your chest that erupted when she said “I love you” it’s not possible to feel guilt in this moment, shrouded in a haze that might be because of your droopy eyes but you tell yourself it’s because you love this girl so much.
“I haven’t seen you all week,” Caroline says after a second.
“I know,” you say after a long moment. Thinking of those long nights when you wanted to be selfish so bad. When you wanted her all to yourself. “Sorry. I’ve had, like, a lot of homework lately and stuff.”
“But the worst is over now?”
You heart squeezes at the hopeful edge to her tone.
It’s hard to find times when your schedules match. It hurts you, you know it hurts her, and sometimes these Fridays are the only thing that can keep you sane. You might actually end up in a mental hospital.
“Oh, um… I dunno. Hopefully, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, biting back a yawn. “I jus’ miss you.”
“I miss you too,” you say, so quietly it’s almost like a confession. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m about to fall asleep,” you groan, slipping off of her and back onto the bed.
Laying on your side so you’re facing her, you watch as she opens her eyes and smiles at you in that sweet, slightly goofy way you fell in love with.
She reaches out and softly touches your under eyes, where you know there’s noticeable dark circles. She frowns, ever-so-slightly, and the unspoken question is thick in the air.
“Jackie keeps getting all pissed off at me,” you say, breaking the silence, making sure she doesn’t ask that question: “have you been sleeping?” You’re fine. You’re fine. “She thinks I’m studying too much but no matter how many times I tell her I’m studying a pretty normal amount- she won’t let it go.”
“Are you studying a normal amount?”
There’s a slight teasing smile on her face, so you roll your eyes.
“Yes. I stay up a little late, like, once and it’s like it’s the end of the world.”
It’s not just once, and it’s not just a little late, but KK is so tired, you can see it on her face.
She laughs. “Jackie jus’ loves you,” she says after a yawn.
“Too much, maybe.”
She puts her arm around you, tugging you closer to her. “You deserve all the love in the world, baby.”
You smile like a cheesy schoolgirl. “Okay,” you say, pressing a short kiss to her lips. “Go to bed, please. You can barely keep your eyes open and it’s actually kinda scary.”
“Come here,” she groans, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed up right against her.
And before you can even think about what you’re doing, you let out a sigh and press your face into her neck. This might be your favorite place- where you can feel her heartbeat and the way her arm is wrapped around you.
Your chest squeezes when everything fades out for a second, tiredness you didn’t feel until you were in her arms suddenly coming out in the form of a yawn.
“Damn, you’re tired,” she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You try to mumble “so are you” but it comes out as an incoherent mumble that she chuckles at.
Just as you faintly realize that comforting sensation is her hand in your hair, scratching your head, guilt consumes you. She’s been working so hard at practice- and here she is comforting you? You’re not going to national championships like her. You’re not doing anything important- you’re just tired from getting mediocre grades.
Sluggish, you moan and try to move out of her comfort, something inside of you screaming that you don’t deserve it, but she only mistakes it as you shifting in your sleep and softly shushes you.
And just as you push off sleep enough to try and get out, her breathing evens out. So, you fall asleep press tightly into her arms, feeling so guilty you think it might actually destroy you.
—-
hockey queen: hi baby practice finished early can i come over?
hockey queen: are u studying
hockey queen: babe pls i’m bored
hockey queen: ok i’m coming over deal w it
You set your pen down, staring at the scribbles in the margins of your assignment- the actual questions still blank. You sigh, feeling pressure behind your eyes that you try not to let spill.
“Fuck,” you whisper, putting your head into your hands and allowing yourself one guilty moment to wallow in self-pity before you finish this fucking assignment.
It’s still early, but you know you should have done this simple one page of work before tackling the endless pages of review for another test you have tomorrow- now you’re so tired you can barely see, and your hand is cramping.
You softly scrunch your dominant hand into a fist before spreading it out flat, almost wincing at how sore it is. Is it even possible for your hand to be this sore? Covered in smudged ink, you debate going to the bathroom and washing your hands. Maybe you need to walk around, then you can get this one page done.
But all you can think about is that stupid test tomorrow, and maybe you should stay up late again, screw Jackie’s concern, study more-
The first tear that drops onto your paper shocks you a bit. And you feel so stupid for crying in the first place that you start crying more.
Pressing your face into your hands, you’re too tired to try and stop the tears, just letting them fall. Your mind races with thoughts of that stupid test, this stupid assignment- and some rational part of you knows that this is unhealthy- but it’s college, and it kinda feels like everything you do is a precursor for your adult life.
If you can’t juggle tests and homework- how are you going to juggle bills and work? Simple housework?
Someone knocks on the door.
You freeze for a moment, feeling your makeup run streaky down your face, eyes still full of tears and mascara messy-
“Y/N?”
Oh, fuck. Fuck. You know that voice, you know KK’s voice, you can hear her perfectly through the door.
And you’re just stupidly, completely frozen.
Maybe because part of you wants to just run into her arms.
And before you can make up some lie or do anything to get her to go away, she just opens the door, and you quickly turn away.
“Oh. Y/N,” she says, obviously very confused. “I figured you weren’t in here. Did you see my texts?”
“Uh,” you start, and you know immediately that she can hear the sadness in your voice. “No, sorry. I’ve been studying.”
“What happened?” She asks, and you would laugh at the way she looks around the room, almost as if someone is going to jump out. “You’re crying.”
“No,” you fake laugh, standing up. “Give me a second, there’s something in my eye-”
She grabs your wrist.
“Please don’t lie to me.”
The sincerity and love in her voice makes you cry more.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m just a little overwhelmed with school, I’ve had some late nights, it’s stupid that I’m crying over this. Seriously, babe, thank you- but it’s not that big of a deal.”
She’s got this kinda heartbroken look on her face, and you love her so much- you feel even more guilty for making her feel like this, for being the cause of the frown on her face, and you just want to go back in time and stop all of this from happening.
“…It is a big deal if it’s making you cry.”
You can’t say anything.
She wipes a few tears from your face. “You look exhausted, baby. I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’ve had a lot going on with school, but I know you, I know you’re tired and I think maybe-”
“I’ve had a few late nights, okay?” You finally meet her eyes, trying to convince her that you’re okay, because you feel so stupid and vulnerable and you can’t stand it when she has that concerned look in her eyes for you. “Like, not even that late. 2 A.M. isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not like it pays off, because my grades are still shit- but, whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine, okay? I’m sorry, I’m just not thinking straight, and- it’s fine. It’s fine.”
“You’re not fuckin’ fine, Y/N. Stop saying that, why are you pushing me away? You can tell me anything, I love you.”
She’s dropped her bag by now, her entire attention focused on you, one arm wrapped around your waist as if you might run away from her and the other softly brushing away the tears that continue to fall.
“I try so hard,” you say after a second. “I study so much. And I… I just can’t get good grades. And I just… I feel so guilty all the time, because I just want to spend time with you and I love you so much but you work so hard and I just don’t want to be another thing for you to deal with.”
And once it’s finally out, not curled up in your chest like a second heart leeching on the very essence of your being, the tears dry up.
Caroline softly smiles.
“What?” You ask, sniffling a bit, one step away from crying again.
“It’s just- how could you ever think that you would be something for me to “deal” with?”
“I dunno,” you say, slightly pouty as she helps you sit down next to her.
“You’re my favorite person in the entire world. I love you more than anything- even hockey, which is saying a lot. You’re never something for me to deal with, and I don’t do anything but smile anytime someone says your name, or you text me, or I get to see you- I’m sorry that it really sucks right now, with my schedule, and that you were feeling like this and I had no idea- but I really fucking love you.”
You smile softly. “You’re sweet,” you murmur, legs intertwining with hers. “I fucking love you too.”
She places her hand on the side of her face and kisses your nose.
“Don’t ever feel guilty for wanting to spend time with me. I’m never too tired for you. Besides, do you know what I think about during practice?”
“What’s right in front of you face?” You quip.
“Well, that, but also you. And, also, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with your grades. Don’t you have like an 89 in each class?”
“It’s not a 90,” you groan.
“Still better than me, I’m like all 85’s. And, you’re literally the only reason I’m passing that one class that I hate who’s name I don’t speak.”
You smile, angling yourself to face her, finding that you can’t think of anything poetic to say to tell her how much she means to you, so you just kiss her. Long and slow, trying to pour as much appreciation and emotion into it as possible.
“Okay, game plan, I help you finish whatever work you have, then have you eaten? I’ll get us food. Then, you’re going to go to sleep early, okay?”
“It’s a plan,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to that one piece of paper, tear stain dried on it.
Her face spurs adorably just at the sight of the homework from her least favorite class. “Oh, you’re gonna love me. Don’t worry, I got the answers from the really smart girl I sit next to.” She takes out her own sheet of homework from her bag on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles on her thigh before proudly handing it to you.
“Hm, I do love you. Just a bit.”
“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”
And later that night, with your homework finally done, takeout boxes in the trash bin, and your head on Caroline’s chest- heartbeat in your ears, her lips on the top of you head- it feels impossible to feel guilty about loving her.
—-
Jackie walks in late, groaning to herself about the stupid kid in her study group who asks the most common sense questions- she quickly shuts up when she realizes you’re asleep in your bed.
“Thank God,” she breaths, grateful that she didn’t find you hunched over at the desk again.
She squints into the darkness, quickly realizing there’s two figures on her bed, and the other one is very familiar-
“What did I say?” Jackie mutters to herself. “Insufferably in love with each other.”
Then, she quickly snaps a picture before getting ready for bed herself.
—-
317 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 2 years ago
Note
Look me in the eye tell Nagi doesn’t stand behind his girlfriend groping her boobs like stress ball. Non sexual. Just squish 💀🥲
grabs you by the face and looks you directly in the eye - you are so right!!! 
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you hear the jingle of his keys and the door opening before you see him but don’t bother to look up as you work on finishing off the dishes. 
on good days, nagi greets you with a call of your name — languidly, albeit excitedly, making his way to whatever room you respond from so he can flop into your lap and have you play with his hair as a way to wind down. today, there’s nothing but silence only interrupted by pockets of nagi’s sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floors of your homey hallways before the warmth of his chest is pressed up against your back. 
“hey baby,” you coo, voice brimming with considerateness and affection as you continue to wash dishes from the night before. “bad day?” 
seishiro makes a noncommittal noise before his head drops to your neck, snow white locks tickling just under your chin while his hands settle on the gentle slope of your waist — itching to move upwards.
“wanna talk about it?” 
“mmh, no. don’t wanna be a bother.” he replies absentmindedly, twirling a loose thread on the hem of your (his) shirt to distract from the thoughts weighing heavy on your mind. “s’too much of a drag to think about anyways.” 
as nonchalant as your boyfriend presents, you can always tell when something irks him a little more than usual. “ you’re never a bother to me, seishiro. don’t be silly, feeling like this might go away if you tell me.” you choose your words carefully, hearing him hum against your shoulder as his lashes flutter against your skin. nagi’s quieter when he’s in a bad mood, his face is usually blank but his deep grey eyes will tell all — so as you lean forward to place a plate on the drying rack, you spare nagi a knowing glance. 
your shirt rides up when you lean forward and so do his large and calloused hands, reaching your supple chest before you can even realise. blue lock’s genius lets out a sigh of relief as he squeezes your breasts between his fingers — choosing that exact moment to speak. 
he’s just happy that you’re wearing nothing underneath his clothes. “i think reo’s mad at me again.” 
“oh baby, what makes you say that?” resuming your task, you rinse the suds off of your favourite mug and listen intently — smiling to yourself when your boyfriend gives you another squeeze. 
“i dunno…i got partnered up with isagi for drills today…” nagi pushes your boobs up and breathes out in content, rolling the warm mounds of flesh in the palms of his hands. “‘n he just seemed mad, bringing up the fact that i chose isagi over him at the second selection. such a pain. s’been years, shouldn’t he be like… over it?” squeeze. 
proud of him for communicating his feelings properly, you angle your head to give nagi a kiss to the side of his own. he bristles at the warm contact of your lips against his skin, letting your chest go with one hand to draw loving patterns over your tummy. 
“i can see why he might be hurt or upset but, like you said, it has been years and you needed to do what you thought was best, to become the best.” you shrug simply, ignoring the heat bubbling below your surface as seishiro squeezes and pinches and massages all of the places that make tick. you decide to worry about that later, because right now all he needs is comfort and stress relief. “you didn’t do anything wrong baby, but if this is still bothering you by tomorrow then you’ll need to talk to reo about it, kay?”
these a beat of silence where nagi trails kisses down from your neck to your shoulder before slumping against you entirely. “yeah okay, it’ll be a hassle. but i will.” he mumbles, dropping his arms to wrap securely around your waist — with no intention of letting you go. “can we go for a nap now? my feet hurt ‘n i wanna lie on your boobs.” 
“seishiro, i’ve been letting you cop a feel for the last ten minutes!” you squeal as he pinches up your sides again, playfully. “these dishes aren’t gonna do themselves!”
you feel the white-haired player smirk against you, nuzzling his head into the junction of your neck one more. this time he sneaks his hand under the cotton material to pinch one of your nipples, 
 “dishes can wait, you know it feels better if i touch you when my clothes aren’t in the way, angel.” 
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3K notes · View notes
justdontaskme · 1 year ago
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A Promise to Keep (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
A/N: Hello! I got a request and a sudden spurt of inspiration. If seems a little all over the place, I apologize, I wrote it quickly in one sitting and feel like it might be the best it'll get. Please let me know what you think or anything else you want to see.
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After your morning training session, all you really wanted to do was to head home and cuddle with Nala until your second session later today. So, you bid your teammates farewell with a promise to see them later. 
Preseason had been going well, but it was quite obvious the number of gaps missing as many of your players were still out representing at the World Cup. Speaking of missing players, your phone started ringing just as you entered your apartment. You placed your bag down, scooping up Nala as you made your way over to the couch. 
“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia greeted you over the phone, a tired but happy smile on her face at finally seeing your face today. 
“Hi, Ale. Say hi to mama, Nala,” you said, grabbing one of Nala’s little paws and waving it at the camera. You listened as Ale talked to Nala all about what she had done today and how much she missed her. 
Eventually, Nala got bored, and you placed her back on the floor to roam the apartment. You turned sideways, using the arm of the couch as a backrest, pulling your feet up to stretch across the seats. 
“Are you okay, Ale?”
“I wish you were here,” she mumbled, and even though you knew it wasn’t meant with any malice, you couldn’t help but detect that tone of bitterness in her voice, just hitching at the very end. 
You sighed deeply, not really wanting to replay a fight you two have been enduring for the last few weeks now. 
“I miss you,” you said instead, trying not to feed into another inevitable fight. “Enjoy this while you can, you’ll be home soon.”
“I’m here, and you’re there. How am I supposed to enjoy this when you are sitting back home when you could have been here.”
“Ale,” you started, your voice soft and gentle, trying to soothe her before she worked herself into a frenzy. “This is your moment, don’t worry about me.”
“But this is supposed to be our moment,” she said, her voice raising slightly. “You and me. It was supposed to be us. Now, I’m here by myself.”
“You’re not alone, Ale,” you reminded her, asking her to lean on her teammates for strength in this monumental moment. 
“It’s not the same, and you know it. We made a promise.”
You turned the phone away from yourself for a second, allowing your face to fall forward into your knees. She was right. The two of you had made a promise to each other that you would do whatever it takes to be on the grandest stage of the World Cup together. 
“I know, but you and I both know why I’m here. I’ve made peace with this situation. I hate it, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”
“Not even to be with me?” Alexia knew she was selfish and wrong for asking that, but she had been struggling to really find her footing this tournament, and to have you thousands of miles away wasn’t helping. Her feelings were taking over. She felt like she was floundering, one second away from drowning every step of the way. 
“Ale, as much as I’d love to be there with you, I can’t put myself in that situation again. Not unless things change,” you said.
While you loved and enjoyed your time on the national team, there was so much going on behind the scenes that many people didn’t know about. Unfortunately, it had taken a huge mental toll on you, a toll you were still paying to this day and maybe for the rest of your life. 
“You always said you and I could get through everything together. Why is this any different? Why can’t we get through this together?” Her voice was strained and you knew she was not going to back down on this tonight. 
“Alexia, let’s not go down this road tonight. You have a big game tomorrow. Let’s not do this right now.”
“I’m suffocating. I feel like I can’t even take a step without everyone criticizing my form and my right to be here. And now I’m here telling you that I need you, and you just push it aside,” she yelled, causing you to almost drop your phone. 
“Hold on, Alexia. That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“Don’t go putting words in my mouth. You know I hate when people do that,” you warned her, feeling yourself slowly losing your temper as well. 
“And I hate when people go back on their word, yet you did and I let you.”
That stopped you for a moment. Everything Alexia has been saying all made sense. But you couldn’t just take a whole month off especially with preseason starting just to follow her halfway around the world. 
It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty for not being there when she needed you. Since she had gone, the time difference had really made its mark on your relationship, speaking much less often than normal. Calls were either less frequent or shorter in comparison to the ones just before the group stages started. 
You hated yourself for not noticing how much Alexia was apparently struggling throughout this month apart. Each call you remember trying to comfort and reassure her you were her biggest fan, but she didn’t just need some to believe in her, she needed your full support in fighting the demons in her heads that have been there since she went down before the Euros.
“Ale,” you tried to form a coherent sentence. One that was genuinely what she needed to hear without feeling forced. 
“No, you know you were right. I have a game tomorrow. I should get some rest.”
Before you could say anything else, she hung up on you. You tossed your phone to the other side of the couch, sitting in silence as the pent up anger from this and previous fights coupled with an insurmountable amount of guilt bubbled inside of you. 
****
From your seat next to Patri, your hands curled into fists when you saw Alexia being subbed off, knowing that she wasn’t happy with the decision, and even worse, she’ll be upset with the way she had played with the limited minutes she had. 
You started to worry and feel a twinge of guilt, wondering if your fight last night had anything to do with her performance today. You quickly shook your head, tossing the idea out of your head and reminding yourself that Alexia was a professional and she wouldn’t let something like that mess with her game. She must just have had an off day.
Things from the night before were still unresolved, but you hoped that it would all work itself out when you spoke to her later.  
It was a bittersweet win. You were in tears seeing the absolute happiness on the players’ faces, especially Alexia’s, yet when you turned to Patri and Mapi, you knew they already understood the feelings you were fighting.
Mapi came over and draped an arm over your shoulders, nodding her head without saying anything. There were only a few who would truly understand what you were feeling as you watched the Spanish national team reach heights that were before unachievable. And they managed to do it all without you and your fellow teammates. 
You waited by the phone all night, but never got anything from your girlfriend. You had tried calling once, but it had gone straight to voicemail, and you figured that it meant that she wasn’t ready to hear from you yet. 
Then, you reached out to Ona, who assured you that Alexia was okay and that she would keep an eye on her for you. You then asked her to pass on your congratulations and her love, which she easily agreed to. Thanking the younger girl, you went about making the necessary arrangements for your trip. 
****
As you stepped into the stadium, you were in awe of the atmosphere. The crowds of people here for this game, cheering along and choosing sides, even though their own nations have already gone home. It was a full stadium of people here to love and champion the game everyone loved. A wave of sadness swept through you as you imagined what could have been. 
You were supposed to be experiencing this with all your friends, the grass beneath your feet, not the concrete of the seating area. You should have been out there decked out in your Spanish uniform, your name and number proudly on your back, instead of being in the stands with your girlfriend’s name and number on. 
You let yourself wallow for a minute more before quickly reminding yourself why you were really here. While you continue to wish things were different, you didn’t regret your choices, but now you were to live with the consequences of those choices. 
Instead of dwelling, you stood on your feet, cheering along with the rest of the Spanish fans as both teams made their way out for warmups. You cheered loudly anytime Alexia touched the ball, but with all the people in the stadium, you doubted she could hear you.
Once the Spanish team finished warming up and started heading into the locker rooms, you did your best to catch Alexia’s eyes without making a big show. As far as you knew, Alexia didn’t even know you were here. 
Eventually you managed to make eye contact with Ona who sent you a bright smile before rushing over to Alexia and pointing you out in the crowd. Despite the countdown until kickoff and the protests of a certain coach, Alexia ran straight to you, meeting you at the edge of the stands.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, reaching one hand up to cup your face while the other went around your waist, pulling your bodies as close as the barrier between you two allowed. 
In the moment, it didn’t matter if there was a small wedge driven between the two of you since the start of this tournament, Alexia was beyond happy to finally have you back in her arms. She wasn’t going to waste a second of it. 
“I made a promise, we’d be here together,” you said, resting your forehead against hers, this closeness drowning out everything around you. “I came to fulfill that promise to you. Even if it’s a little different than the way we planned.”
“I’m sorry,” Alexia said, ready to jump into her rehearsed spiel of how she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did the other night. 
But before she could say anything, you quickly interrupted her with an apology of your own. “No, mi corazón, I’m sorry. You were right, we made a promise and I went back on it.”
“No, I know why you and the others did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t support you. I just really wished I could have shared all of this with you by my side.”
“I know, bebé, I know. But we can’t change the past.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Alexia admitted, sniffling slightly. You reached up to wipe the pooling tear in her eye. 
“Me too. I promise we can talk about this more later. For now, go out there and make me proud,” you told her, not caring about the crowd as you leant forward and kissed her for the first time in over a month. “Te amo.”
The blinding smile on your girlfriend’s face and the returned ‘I love you’ was worth the month apart. Alexia snuck one more quick kiss to your lips before rushing off to the locker room before she was benched for the entire game. 
You sat back in your seat as you awaited the players' walk out. 
“My sister is such a sucker for you,” Alba said, knocking her shoulder against yours from her seat beside you. 
You burst out laughing, “Never hurts to have her wrapped around my finger,” you shrugged.
“Yet you were the one to skip practice in order to book a last minute flight to Australia just so you could apologize in person.”
“It’s called supporting your girlfriend,” you countered, eyes on the tunnel as the players were set to come out any second. 
Alba rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, joining you as you both sported your Alexia jerseys, loudly cheering for the superstar as everyone came out. You blew her a kiss and wished her the best of luck. 
This wasn’t how you two had thought a World Cup together would be like, but even with all the obstacles, you had finally made it to a final together. And really, that’s all that mattered because at the end of the day, you two would always have each other. 
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orihcas · 5 months ago
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cw: 18+ mdni, f!reader, established relationship, drinking mentioned, time skip kenma, makeout scene inspired by this photo
It had been a while since everyone had been able to hang out together. Everyone now had different schedules which made things harder but this was a rare occasion.
It has been decided that everyone would go over to Kenma's place. To catch up over dinner and a few drinks and whatever would be playing on the TV.
You noticed Kenma fiddling around with the fabric of your jeans unaware of the action while listening to what was playing on the TV. Or whenever a strand of his hair would get loose from the hair tie he had it in you would tuck it behind his ear.
The action gets his attention. He would turn towards you before giving you a slight smile and reaching out to hold one of your hands.
As the night slowly began to get late everyone would start to head out, some of them having stuff to do the next morning.
You start to check your bag making sure you have everything to leave when you see Kenma coming back. He had been the one to take Kuroo to one of the spare rooms he had. It was normal for Kuroo to stay over; it was something he did from time to time and was the best option considering how much he had. His movement had been a bit more sluggish than usual but the same could be said for you.
“Are you leaving?” He say
“Yeah, but we're still seeing each other tomorrow right?” You ask as you stand up
“You should stay,” he tells you
“Are you sure I had to go back anyways to get something from my house for tomorrow”
“Yeah it's not like you haven't stayed over before and we can drive by to get your stuff tomorrow”
You think about it before letting out a hum “Okay let's go to bed then yeah”
“Yup let's go” He extends his arm waiting for you to grab on. You get close and wrap your arm around his as you both walk towards his bedroom.
It was not the first time you guys had slept together in the same bed or stayed over before.
You sit down on his bed as Kenma joins you sitting down right next to you. You suddenly feel his weight on your side as he puts his head on your shoulder. You shift yourself slightly to be more comfortable for the two of you.
“Did you have fun today?” You decide to ask him.
He hums very softly something you almost didn't catch “It was nice to see everyone every once in a while”
You smile at his response “Well I think Hinata seemed to miss the most”
Kenma shakes his head slightly at this, letting out a sigh.
“He's always like that,” He says as he wraps one of his arms around you. He is clinging on to you even more than usual.
As soon as Hinata had entered the place he greeted everyone crying out with tears of joy about how much he missed everyone. Kenma who had not noticed in time was brought into a hug by Hinata that quickly ended when he mentioned he would stop sponsoring him if he did not let him go, a threat that always works. You giggle knowing he cares about his friends deep down to ever do that.
He doesn't know why he starts to remember his conversation with Kuroo they had while hanging out a few days back. Kuroo had been at his place when he asked where you were. Naturally, he had answered the question nonchalantly.
“Oh, she's at her place” This had surprised him.
“Really I would have thought from how much you guys hang out that you lived together”
He thought about it then thought a bit more before putting his game down.
It had got quiet after a few seconds. You feel Kenma unravel the arm he had around you lifting his head from off your shoulder as he begins to speak.
“Yn,” He says carefully as he turns slightly to face you
“Yes” You turn to look at him, you bite your lower lip, a habit of yours.
He was turned towards you, but his eyes were not meeting yours directly. Although you both had been in a relationship for the past year and a half he was still a bit nervous.
He looks at you about to speak but notices you are biting your lip again, a habit of yours.
“You’re doing it again” He moves his hands to your lips.
Once you notice as quickly as you did it you stop doing it.
“Sorry sorry, what were you going to say?” You go back to paying attention to him.
“It's okay I well-” He stops before finding the words he wants to say.
“I want to go further with you in this relationship” He stumbles with his words but he continues
“I don't know how you feel but it's how I feel I want you and us”
He looks you in the eye, his cheeks are flushed from either the drinks he still has in his system or his words. Both but you can tell from the sincerity in his eye he's being honest.
You suddenly feel a warmness rise to your cheeks and dryness in your throat from how he is looking at you. You clear your throat.
“I also want that with you… only with you so you can have me as long as I get to have you, us.”
The pupils in his eyes grow before he smiles and nods at you. He is about to pull away from you but before he gets the chance you reach out one of your arms to his shoulder to bring him back a sudden desire to kiss him.
When you do you pull him closer to you. close enough to place a kiss on his cheek, a bit clumsy. After you continue down the side of his chin.
One of his hands had reached to hold the arm you had used to pull him closer whimpering slightly when you kissed him even more in certain areas.
You come back up gently placing one last kiss in the corner of his lips as you pull back to look at him. He looks more flushed than he did before. You two had been close enough so your noses barely touched.
“Kiss me please” You ask him so nicely for permission even though you don't have to.
You make him feel lightheaded. He would give you anything you asked him to give you.
He closed the gap between you guy’s lips and kisses you so tenderly. You let out a satisfied hum as he kisses you.
One of your hands moves to the side of his face while the hand you had on his shoulder moves up to the back of his hair, nails grazing the back of his head.
He lets out a quiet groan into your mouth at this as he maneuvers you on top of him to his lap.
You pull back for air. The only thing that can be heard in the room is the two of you heavily breathing trying to catch your breath.
“You're so sweet,” He says as he looks at your lips swollen and now wet from all the kissing.
You chuckle a bit out of breath before you meet back for another hot kiss.
He brings his arms to your sides, hands grasping the clothes you have on a barrier between the two of you. In between the kiss, he hears you mutter a “more”
One of his hands makes its way down to your ass bringing you closer to him You mewl into his mouth.
Despite it being cold outside he feels so hot from all the kissing and the number of layers he has on does not help.
“Kozume-“ You whine as he pulls away from the heated kiss.
He makes his way to your neck, his mouth hot placing kisses in the areas around your collarbone. You place your head on his shoulder to try and silence the noises you make but Kenma knows you well, kissing an area where you're most sensitive you let out an embarrassingly loud cry.
Before the both can get any further a sudden loud noise makes you both jump and pull away from each other. The sound coming from where the guest bedroom is. You pull yourself off of Kenma a bit wobble as you let out a sigh.
“You should probably go check on that” Placing a small quick kiss on his lips.
He groans in disappointment
“He's probably fine” He tries to pull you back in and you giggle at this.
“True but if he's not it will be a much bigger problem for tomorrow”
He lets out a sigh knowing you're right and gets up from where he was. You get pulled back into one last kiss.
Before he leaves the room he says one more thing.
“Wait up for me I'll be back in a minute”
You hum knowing he will return to you.
extras!
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