#it's been like months since this happened too. fucking hell. i hate it.
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So after the episode I deleted Tumblr because I didn't really know to process what just happened. I don't think I'c'Ăš ever wrote a post here and sure as hell I'd never thought it would be for Bucktommy, considering that everything I've done since April is like/reblog stuff.
But I just wanted to say how amazing it was to see that, besides the anger (and trust me, I'm soooo mad to rn), the fandom just stood together, supported Lou and each other and always reminded people to be respectful. As someone who's been in a lot of fandom since I was very young and naive, I can assure you that this is not a common occurrence, even if it should be. But that's beautiful, even more if you consider all the amazing fan fiction (fix it but also not!) already out.
So shoutout to Bucktommy fandom, to everything we've been through since april and remind yourself that, while this may be the end in canon (I, for once, I've decided to stop watching for a very looong while, because this fucking show has too much power over my mental health and it shouldn't), there's nothing that can take away what's been built in these months.
So thank you for all your thoughts, your works, your "Fuck you, I'm the one who decides what's canon now", for creating such a beautiful space even with all the hate â€ïž
Personally, thank you for helping me found a safe space from the craziness of the fandom, a tag to look forward to read after a long day, a lot of beautiful videos, edits, gifs, arts and fanfiction. Each and everyone of you is amazing, I hope you never forget that â€ïž
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can my brain not convince me i have rabies and am going to die please. like can it not do that.
#i just randomly get these episodes out of nowhere where my leg will like this. phantom sensation that i know isn't real because#while i was bit by a cat last year it a) was vaccinated and b) the weird feeling is too far up my leg to be the bite#and like i know it's my brain being âšspicyâš but it doesn't make the fear go away#i was literally just stressing like i was going to die for like an hour before my body finally fucking calmed down#it happens more when i'm stressed for prolonged periods of time i think. or have too much caffeine.#like i literally just calmed down. my leg still feels weird but it feels less real now.#and like i will get to the point i will start self harming!!! not to the point of drawing blood but i think if it got bad enough i would.#fuckkkk dude. my 2 weeks off can't come soon enough.#it's been like months since this happened too. fucking hell. i hate it.#it's so weird too because this will be happening and i'll like. act normal. like no one will know i feel like i'm literally fucking dying.#because i know i'm not and i don't want to bother anyone. some day this is going to bite me in the ass.
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LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now Iâm off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because theyâre insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they donât let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didnât have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so ⊠???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but Iâm in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, Iâm going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isnât the first time theyâve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. Iâm genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because Iâm so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because youâre telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, yâall share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then donât fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because youâre just constantly making shit worse on people since you canât seem to not fuck around with these meds and not âloseâ scripts. fuck out of here.
and Iâm pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and Iâd still have to walk my ass to one of the ATMâs nearby because they donât accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. đ«
I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while Iâm laying on my fucking side, Iâve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon theyâll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, Iâm nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and Iâm moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.
Iâm just. I give up.
this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just ⊠not exist ⊠for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now đ« đ
#i hate that CT weed is so fucking expensive#half a fucking ounce shouldnât cost me $250 âŠâŠ.. not when I can go to MA and get an ounce for $108 after tax âŠâŠ..#but I donât have a way to MA because my fucking best friend. who made plans with me OVER THE WEEKEND. HER. SHE INITIATED THEM.#canceled on me last second even though I texted her early the night before when I know she would see it đ« #nope instead she waited from the text I sent at 6:30pm until noon the next day to cancel because her period is kicking her ass#NOT FOR FUCKING NOTHING BUT SO THE HELL IS MINE ???? AND IM ANEMIC ??? AND DEALING WITH ALL THIS EXTRA PAIN ON TOP OF IT ????#and I know Iâm being irrational and insensitive because pain tolerance is a sliding scale for everyone#but like fucking come on you do this 3 out of 4 times YOU make the plans to hang out and Iâm fucking over it.#plus Iâm the one that always pays for everything and does she ever even OFFER to hit me back for the COUNTLESS ounces of weed Iâve got her#all because she couldnât afford it so I said Iâd cover it and she never paid me back. Iâve bought her at least a grandâs worth of weed#just over the last couple months and sheâs never ONCE offered to pay me back for a single one#like âŠâŠâŠ I donât expect it. I give if I have it. but you canât even just offer ??? like the invitation to pay me back would be enough to no#leave m ragingly pissed off and feeling used as an atm again for yet another âfriendâ because they donât even OFFER to be considerate#of course Iâd say not to worry about it but it doesnât even cross your fucking head to ask if I want anything towards it#like the next time you get paid ??? when you go and spend your own money on weed that day but canât reimburse me for anything IVE paid for#oh and I always have to give her gas money if I even simply just want to hang out because sheâs always fucking broke somehow#and she works in healthcare like bitch I know what you make and you canât play that you donât have enough to get by or throw me 50 bucks#towards YOUR weed that Iâm buying every once in a fucking while when Iâm already paying for everything fucking else#Iâm so angry and I know Iâm being irrational and bitchy but this is what happens when youâre tripped off your meds cold turkey#and one of them is a mood stabilizer that makes it so you DONT feel this way about people and arenât so bitter when youâre let down đ« đ« đ« #because now my rejection sensitive dysphoria is going to be triggered even easier than usual and Iâm just.#I actually fucking give up. I donât even know what to do here. the pain going through my body is so fucking intense#I keep losing my train of thought because everything hurts and then every once in a while a DIFFERENT pain acts up and throws itself in too#I just. I just canât fucking win.#I hate fucking struggling with my mental state like this when Iâm off my meds.#and because I have to be a month without my stabilizer/pain management/birth control itâs going to take me ANOTHER month to get readjusted#to those in my body so I wonât feel normal again until nearly fucking mid to end January the earliest#and thatâs fucking bullshit. Iâm going to fucking **** myself by the time I get back on these fucking meds since itâll take that long#fucking hell I just. I give up. I give in. Iâm self isolating and cutting myself off from everyone because itâll be in THEIR best interest#for me to do so when I canât control my mind like this. Iâm so tired of feeling so fucking shitty and Iâve only been off them for two days
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ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think đ
#haunted ecosystem#i'll take a burst of creativity in a different form than usual than the burnout slump i've been in for a few months#<- part of why my fandom stuff has taken a smidge of a backseat#dont get me wrong i am still very excited about my fandoms im just having fun off in oc hell (affectionate)#its nice to just be able to create and not really worry about perception. and also i feel Less bad about just throwing ocs into the wringer#((blame the fact i've been REALLY interested in whump recently and i have been. fixated. on one of my characters.))#and ALSO i've been! rekindling my flame for wtds. i've been putting off thinking about it since that fic got.#nothing bad happened? but it was still very devastating that somebody who i considered a friend from that fic just. evaporated.#but i'm gonna finish that fic for him :) even if it takes a year. even if it's the one thing i finish ever. it'll be wtds.#for where its gotten me and the fact its what got me out of my shell and is the reason i trust that my writing is good!#i used to really hate rereading my work. i catch flaws that are obvious to me. but that fic. i just think about how *good* the story is#that story means. a lot to me? as a person? like the main character is not a good person. but people care about him anyway.#and there are so many little things. so many sentiments. so much that is a love letter to people who've done bad but learnt to do better#because. god knows i wasnt a good person even just a few years ago. and maybe i see myself in him a bit.#he came from a place of paranoia and fear and pain. and maybe its a good thing that i've found it difficult to write him recently.#because god. i've been HAPPY. even with the rough moments and bad days. i've been happy. i mean fuck.#my birthday's what. ten days away? god damn man. i'm going to be 18. that's an achievement.#i want to look the kid who thought it was over at half my age and tell him we fucking made it. and there are more years to come.#there's a life ahead. even if it's going to be a bitch. even if it's going to be tough. there's love in your heart and people who care and#you're going to fucking live and you're going to feel better one day. you have people to meet properly and thank and cherish.#because for every day it feel like the world's ending there are a dozen more where the sun shines just the right way through the rain#and you can't help but smile because it's just so god damn beautiful.#and fuck it. you're sick. your hands hurt and your legs don't work right. and it's tough sometimes. but you have people who understand.#you have people who honest to god love you for who you are and appreciate your company. and 18 is the first step.#you've spent half your life unlearning things and you've spent half your life relearning how to be what YOU want to be#and if you're a mediocre artist and passionate writer then you'll be fucking great at that. taking the time to learn when it strikes you.#and maybe this is for me. but its also for anybody reading it too. please god if there's one thing you take from this let it be that#somebody out there cares. *I* care. god i care. even if we've never spoken proper i care about you.#i practically have a list of everybody i see in my inbox. i love seeing familiar names show up. i.#i dont know how to neatly wrap up this tag ramble. but. i am so damn full of love it hurts sometimes. its scary to be happy but thats ok!
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having the worst fucking week of my LIFE i can't do this anymore.
#4 days straight government events at my internship. thesis got fucking overhauled by our adviser.#because he's using us to compete with his colleagues at the office.#had to juggle those two (+ my event. ill get to that later) that i got SICK what the fuck.#had the event ive been planning for about two months earlier. the fucking uni's general services office were assholes and caused us major#delays#which led to us getting fucking RAINED on so we had to CANCEL it HALFWAY and all of my kids#work on the stage and venue design got soaked in the rain#on top of all of these.#when i got back home after half a day of thesis. half a day of org work. my mom tells me#that rini and woong got taken by their mom and she can't find them anywhere#their bitch of a mother that leaves them starving all day to fucking sunbathe!!!!#i was bawling for a good thirty minutes last night UGH im pretty sure she just took them to the back of the house somewhere.#my mom's gonna ask help from the neighborhood kids to look for them huhuhuhuhu.#id be fine with it if the mom takes care of them. i seriously never tried to bother them too much until this weekend because i thought the#mom has been taking care of them but she hasn't so i had to feed them myself and sHE TOOK THEM AWAY đđđđ.#god i'm having the worst time.#and now i have to clean the aftermath of this ti#week's hell before i can finally fucking relax in my room.#i hate it here.#at least i'm hot.#event costume was an emo tiefling with a nearly six foot tall axe.#wore it while commuting to uni!!! loved the stares that i got it was very validating!!!!!!!!!!#gonna add that since this week has been pure shit#the only things that i had looking forward to at the end of every day was seeing my cats and feeding them and id feel instantaneously better#but now they're not around!!!!!! so i'm extra fucking sad!!!! god i feel like sobbing again!!!!!#there were only two things that i asked from the lord today.#that it wouldn't rain. and that i'd get my cats back.#neither of those fucking happened!!!!!!!!!! my event was thrown to hell and i still miss my fucking cats!!!!!!!!!!!!
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MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo
| ".... god, i hate that i missed you so much"
pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader
summary: your dealer has been out of town for almost two weeks and after he's finally back, he texts you needing to see you.
warnings; smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, pet names, praising, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hair pulling, rough sex, car sex, crying, publicÂż sex, cursing, mdni
a/n: literally my first fanfic after a looong time so please bear with me, if its bad... you know why. english isnt my first language so sorry for any mistakes! also its a little long đ part two here !!
~~~
she laughed at some joke her friend made and took another bite of her pizza. it was late friday afternoon, she and her bestfriends were hanging out, since there was nothing else to do. everything was great, until her phone buzzed. she looks at her screen, immediately smiling when she sees his name. she wasn't even aware that her lips had curved into a smile.
her friends were too busy with their own conversation, so she uses her moment and grabs her phone, reading the message from chris. she hasn't heard from him in over two weeks, she had no clue what he was doing, or where he was. she also didn't want to ask, hating the feeling of being too desperate. and it's not like he owns her any explanation either.
chris: u busy?
she bites her lip, fighting the urge to smile again as she replies back.
y/n: hi to you too
y/n: yeah im out with friends, whats up
chris: having fun?
chris: when u gonna be home ma?
y/n: like in an hour or so
chris: can u hurry up? c'mon kid i miss ya
y/n: you do???
she can't help but genuinely grins this time, her eyes widen a little. did he miss her? or was he just saying that to make her give in? he always knew how to talk to her, to make her going feral over him. but she wanted to believe he means it this time.
chris: hell yeah i do
chris: get ur ass out here
she looks at her friends, that were still yapping about something, that she couldn't care less about right now. she needed to see him. he never said he missed her before.
y/n: then come pick me up, im sending u the address
chris: omw gorgeous
chris is already in his car, when she sends him the address. not being able to see her for over two weeks, made him think. A lot. he has been her drug dealer for over a year now, there was tension between them since the beginning, so it didnt take them long to finally fuck at some party a few months ago. and since then, it's happening every now and then, usually they meet to smoke together, then they end up all over each other.
after a few minutes, he parks the car in front of the pizzeria, finally seeing her. she made a stupid excuse for her friends to leave, not being able to hide her excitement, so they just could assume what was going on.
chris gets out of the car, looking her up and down, licking his lips as she was only wearing a black crop top and baggy camo pants. he personally loved those, especially on her.
he opens the door for her, a smirk playing on his lips. "get in."
she tried her hardest to act casual, but just seeing him after a while, in all black outfit, was enough to make her dizzy. and she could swear he got a haircut. his hair was so much shorter, and she loved it.
she smiles, keeping the eye contact while getting inside the car. he closes the door, his eyes roaming all over her body as she walked towards him. he snaps back to reality, getting to the other side and climbing back into the drivers seat. he was feeling so many things that he couldn't express.
"missed me so bad, you couldn't wait an hour, huh?" she speaks up, putting on the seatbelt and looking over at him, while he starts the car.
she notices the way he looks her up and down, his eyes stopping at her exposed skin a little too long.
"i've missed my favorite customer." he smirks, going back to the eye contact.
"yeah, your favorite customer... right." she says sarcastically, trying her hardest to keep her cool and not to blush under his stare.
he grins before replying, focused on keeping his hands on the wheel instead of her body. it was getting harder with every second. "yeah, the one i always gotta give free stuff to."
"oh, dont act like i force you to do this..." she scoffs, still looking at him. "you know i always want to pay you."
"i know y'do... doesn't mean i will stop givin' it to you for free though."
"see, and that's crazy."
chris rolls his eyes, loving and hating at the same time, how she always had to talk back to him. he's driving, planning to go to her house, but the way she's looking right now, and especially her attitude, is making him crazy. he feels his dick getting harder with every second.
"whatever, ma. i know you secretly like it."
"yeah, sure." she mumbles with sarcastic tone, her eyes still watching him. seeing him driving was one of her favorite things in the world, he always looked so good. she appreciates, that he gives her stuff for free or cuts down her prices, but dealing was his job, he was making money out of it, so she always felt bad when he didnt want her cash. "what made you busy for so long? thought the cops caught or some shit"
chris bites his lip, his eyes glancing over to her for a second, before focusing back on the road. he never felt so desperate like right now, just having her in his car like that...
once he hears her question, he snaps back to reality and smiles. "the cops? please, sweetheart, they can suck my dick."
chris changes his direction, spotting an empty parking lot and he drives there. "i was out of town, had to deal with some business... nothin' to worry about now." he explains, parking and turning off his car, and his stare travels to her, scanning her face and body. "you're so curious...."
she nods, now understanding why he wasn't texting her these past two weeks, she was a bit ashamed 'cause she honestly thought maybe he got bored of her, so she didn't text him either. she still got some weed until yesterday, so she also had no reason to.
"why would you stop here?" she asks, looking at him with a little frown, but once she sees his smirk, the realization hits her. the excitement filling her body, the tension between them so noticeable, it makes her shiver.
he stares at her for a moment, adjusting his pants and then suddenly he unbuckles his seatbelt, sitting back in his seat so there was more space now.
"c'mere."
her eyes travels down on his lap, seeing the noticeable big bulge even through his jeans. she blushes slightly, looking back at him, the smirk still playing on his lips and it makes her weak in her knees.
"chris..." he cuts her off by reaching over and grabbing her chin, tilting her face closer to his.
"y'gonna do what i said, or keep talking back?"
she immediately unbuckles her seatbelt, moving over the center console and she gets into his lap, straddling him. she wasn't gonna act like she didn't miss him too, because, goddamn, she did. she presses herself onto his hard dick, watching him closely, and seeing how desperate and frustrated he was right now. It made her feel a little bit of a power, that she decided to take advantage of.
"now, was that so hard, ma?" he smirks even more, trying to hide his growing need for her, but his hands moves to grip onto her thighs. he felt the urge to touch her all over.
"you know, fifteen more minutes and we would be at my place-"
"you really think, i would wait fifteen fucking minutes, when i havent seen you for two weeks, and you look like that?" he loves the way she looks at him, with such admiration. she was so pretty in his eyes, he never felt this type of desperation for anyone ever before.
"and who's fault is that?" his hands grips her tighter and puts her closer in on his lap, making a little bit of friction, that he so desperately needs. his fingers digging into her skin, while he stares into her eyes.
"shut up for once, yeah?"
"make me." she smirks, challenging him. he doesn't have to hear it twice, loving the attitude she's giving him right now. his hand moves up from her thigh to the back of her neck, pulling her face closer and he kisses her roughly, grabbing her ass with his other hand as he does.
she smiles against his lips, immediately kissing him back with the same intensity, and she grinds down against his clothed dick, feeling her own need growing with every second. she missed the way he kissed her, she missed his lips, his hands all over her, his body against hers. she missed him and she hated to admit that.
she slides her tongue into his mouth, he bites her lip in response and lets her lead the kiss. moving up his hips to feel her more and not being able to hold back, he groans against her lips. he never felt so needy before. he pulls away for a moment to speak, and starts trailing kisses down her neck, squeezing her ass, before his hand moves up, caressing the skin on her exposed stomach.
"god, i hate that i missed you so much."
it slips from his mouth, he doesn't think much about it as he sucks on her skin, but for her it meant everything. she tilts back her head, giving him more space and she grinds against his lap some more, running her hand through his brown hair. he lets out a growl as she grinds down on him, making him even harder and he bucks his hips up again. lifting up his head from her neck his stare finds hers, the noticeable lust in his eyes made her bite her lip to hold back a moan. the smirk coming back to his face once he notices her flushed cheeks.
"what 'bout you, huh, ma? missed me too?"
she closes her eyes, their face so close to each other, it makes their lips brush when she replies him back.
"yeah... i did"
he grins, his hands playing with the waistband of her pants. that's all he needed to know, that she missed him as much as he missed her. even though they both were aware, they should'nt.
"how much, hm?" he unzips her pants, she lifts herself up, gripping his shoulders to balance herself and helps him take them off. then she straddles him again, trying to hold back her smile, but not being able to.
"want me to show you?"
he groans after her words, feeling her wet panties pressing against his hard dick and he bucks up his hips again, being so desperate, that he was ready to beg her. he starts marking her neck again, his hand traveling between her legs, massaging her clit through her underwear. her breath hitches in her throat, she lets out a little whine and grips his hair slightly.
"so wet already... shiiiitttt... all this f'me, huh?" he says against her skin, bitting on it slightly and making her moan. he adds more pressure, circling over her clit. "lift this shit up."
his tone demanding, he wasn't asking. she lifts up her top, revealing her breasts. he looks at her now, his eyes going back and forth between her tits, and her face. "fuck... not wearing a bra? fuckin' slut..."
he licks her hard nipple, then starting sucking on it. her hand tightens in his hair, tilting her head back and she lets out more whimpers. she was supposed to be the one in control this time, she craved it and saw how needy he is, but the way he's touching her, makes her losing her mind. he then pulls her panties to the side, running his fingers through her wet folds and suddenly putting one inside her. not even giving her any time, he just starts pumping in and out, adding another finger after a moment, now stretching her out. he pulls away from her nipple, looking at her face.
"c-chris..." she moans quietly, trying her hardest to keep the eye contact, but struggles to do so. her hands now traveling down his chest and unbuckling his belt.
"yeah, ma? y'like that?" he tries to keep his cool, still working his fingers inside her dripping pussy, curling them and making her whine in response. "look at you... so, fuckin' desperate on my lap. missed my fingers, huh? want some more?"
she desperately nods, squeezing around his fingers, but once he feels that, he pulls them out immediately putting them in his mouth to lick them clean. she whines, pouting her lips when he stops.
"show me how much you missed this dick then."
she bites her lip, unzipping his pants and with his help, she pulls them down to his knees, his boxers following after a second. chris leans his head back against the seat, gripping her hips as she gives him a few strokes before pulling her underwear to the side. she runs her thumb over his tip, collecting the precum and spreading it all over his cock, using it as a lubricant and then she lowers herself slowly on his cock, the movement making them both moan out loud with pleasure. she stays like this for a moment, needing to adjust after these past two weeks without him.
"fuckk...so tight...your pussy was made f'me.." he groans, tightening his grip on her hips and he watches her closely, as she finally starts moving on him. heâs holding himself back from moving up his hips and taking over, trying so hard not to thrust into her. he loves the feeling of her body against his and heâs missed it so much. he needed it, he needed her and he hated that. the feeling just kept growing, making the space in the car feel even smaller.
he pulls her back down into another kiss, this time more sloppy, continuing to move his tongue against hers, tasting her. she kisses him back, starting speeding up her pace and now bouncing on him harder. his dick hitting just all the right spots, making her moan loudly while chris tries to focus on the kiss and not to lose his composure. he wanted to take over, he always did, but the feeling of her riding him like that, has him gripping the seat. he grits his teeth, trying to keep himself together and he knows his patience wont last long. he looks up at her again, his eyes glued to her face.
"fuckkkk, ma.... takin' all of me so well... shit..." he hisses, when she speeds up even more. "so good.... s-so good f'me...."
she grips into his shoulders more, moaning loudly at his praises and she continues moving. chris is in complete ecstasy as she picks the pace up, a feeling like he hasnât experienced before. there's just something about her on top and taking what she wants, that's got him feeling so many things at once.
âfuck.. just like thatâ one of his hands grab her ass, giving it a squeeze and then slapping it. "fuckin' slut... you like it? fucking in my car? takin' it just like a little bitch.... yeah? shitttt..."
he moans now not being able to hold back, and he starts thrusting into her. she gasps for air, her eyes closing shut as she tightens around him. "oh, wanna cum, huh? not yet darlin'...." he grips her hips more, his tip hitting her g-spot with every move.
"chris i-"
she cuts herself off with another moan, not being able to think straight. she digs her nails into the back of his neck, her head falling down on his shoulder and he immediately stops. her eyes snap open, she lifts up her head to look at him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"you better don't look away f'me, ma.... wanna see your pretty face y'know? and keep makin' those sexy little sounds...got it?"
she nods, but it's not enough from him as he speaks up again. "use your words baby, c'mon... you aint that fucked out of your mind yet, hm?"
"i got it, just... please..." she whines, moving her hips, wanting to bounce on him again, but he stops her. she pouts. "chrissss......"
"get to the backseat." he demands, after scanning her face for a while. he wanted to give her all the pleasure she deserves. he wasn't even thinking about himself, he couldn't care less about his release. he just needed to make her feel good, making sure no one else can do what he can.
she pulls away from him, now moving over the center console again, struggling a bit but she gets into the backseat. chris obviously smacks her ass as she does, what makes her squeak.
"chris!"
but he just smirks, pulling off his pants and boxers all the way down and throwing it on the passenger seat, so it wasn't in the way. he gets on the back himself, there was little space, but enough to get into his favorite position. chris puts his hand on her back, forcing her to get on her knees and hands on the seat, as he positions himself behind her. chris loves the way he can get her all desperate and begging, so he teases her now. he moves his tip along her folds, making her whine. then he slowly puts it in, but after a few seconds he pulls back again.
"chris...." she whines, knowing he's playing with her now.
"yeah, baby?"
she bites her lip, her face pressing into the seat and she lifts up her hips more. "stop teasing me, please...."
he grins even more, slapping her pussy with his dick and then he suddenly pulls his cock all the way in, making her gasp and scream out of pleasure. the new angle let him hit all of her sweet spots.
"whatever you want, princess." he starts thrusting into her with a very intense and fast pace, going as deep as he could. the car now filled up with her moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. he grips her hips tight, keeping her in place. he can feel her squeezing around his cock again, and he lets out a growl. "c'mon.... cum all over me...wanna see you while y'do..."
chris moves one of his hands, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, having a good view on her face. her mouth wide open, letting out loud moans, her eyes rolling back.
"oh my god!" she cries out, gripping the edge of the seat like her life depended on it and she releases, the wet, squelching sound coming from her now louder. he groans, kissing her neck and whispering into her ear.
"you feel so good... cummin' like that f'me... such a good girl.."
she moans, squeezing around him again, the overstimulation now making her shiver as he keeps going with the crazy pace, not slowing down at all. he lets go of her hair, her head immediately falling onto the seat and he grips by her hips again, making sure she feels him as deep as he wants her to. he growls, being on the edge himself.
"i'm... close.." he mutters, throwing his head back. "gonna fill you up, yeah?"
she whines nodding desperately, but then he smacks her ass giving her a sign to answer verbally.
"shit! yes, fuck, yes chris, please!" she feels tears filling up her eyes from the pleasure, a few of them coming down her cheeks moment later. chris bites his lip, feeling her tightening around him. he moves one of his hands between her legs, now rubbing her clit, while still thrusting hard into her, but his movements getting sloppier. she cries out, her legs trembling and his dick twitches, finally cumming inside her, his warm sticky release filling her up and dripping out of her. he curses under his breath, digging his fingers into her skin, leaving bruises as he does. she feels him cumming, and the overstimulation from him lazily massaging her clit and still hitting her g-spot, makes her finish again. the pressure in her stomach now becoming too much, unable to hold back, she feels the liquid squirts out of her in waves.
his eyes snap open, looking down at her and he growls. he slows down until he eventually stops, after they both ride out their highs, this time not wanting to overstimulate her. looking at the mess she made, he can't help but feel a bit cocky about it.
"shit, ma.... squirtin' all over me, huh? is it how it is now?" he smirks, a little surprised that he made her do that but he couldn't be more proud. he pulls out of her, letting go of her hips and her body immediately falls onto the seat. she's breathing heavily, not being able to reply yet. "that's my fuckin' girl.."
he runs his fingers along her inner thigh, collecting her and his cum and he leans in a bit, covering over her. he looks at her fucked out expression and the smudged mascara on her cheeks. "look at me."
she opens her eyes, her mind blank, body shaking. he puts his fingers into her mouth, she immediately cleans them up, tasting both his and her release on her tongue, making sure she keeps the eye contact with him while she does that.
"you're so hot." he says now kissing the tears on her cheeks away. "took me so well..."
she smiles, seeing his flushed cheeks and messy hair sticking to his forehead. it was her favorite view.
"y'good, kid? don't go all mute on me now.."
"don't call me that...." she mumbles, trying to get her sarcastic attitude back, but she was absolutely spent right now. "i'm fine."
he just grins, gently patting her cheek before he pulls away. she slowly lifts herself up, trying to fight her trembling legs and she sits up now, facing him. not being able to do anything more yet, her glare moving to her legs and the seat she made mess on. she feels her cheeks growing hotter, now suddenly embarrassed and trying to ignore his stare. this never happened to her with him before and she didn't know what he thought about it.
"sorry about... the seats" she mumbles, grimacing.
he raises his eyebrows, now seeing her embarrassment and he doesn't understand why. it was a little surprising but he felt so proud. he already wanted to make her do it all over again. "you f'real? don't even say sorry, ever again."
she's still not so sure, blushing even more as he wipes her cheeks from the smudged mascara and then runs his hand through her hair, trying to fix it a little bit. he smiles softly. "gonna clean this up later, don't you worry 'bout that, okay?"
chris then reaches into the center console for the tissues, grabbing them and spreading her legs with his hands. she watches him closely seeing how he starts just gently cleaning her up. this simple movement makes her feel the heat rising from her cheeks down to her neck, so she just covers her face with her hands shyly. not really being able to understand why is she so embarrassed this time, he grabs her wrists, forcing her hands to move away from her face.
"y'gotta be kiddin' me. don't hide from me, ma." chris mutters. "not when you made such pretty mess in my car."
with a quiet sigh, she lets him take her hands off of her face. she chews on her bottom lip nervously while he goes back to cleaning her up, touching her slightly as she was made from some kind of glass. it was even cute, how he just made sure she was fine. it's not their first rough sex, but this one was definitely more intense and for some reason felt so... different. she had this strange feeling in her chest, just seeing him focused on wiping her legs and how he didn't seem to care about his covered in her release seats. once he's done, he sits beside her, wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulling her close. she doesn't like the silence, even if before it was never awkward, this one was bothering her as she couldn't stop feeling unfamiliar emotions.
"i ran out, by the way." she suddenly blurts out, making him laugh. there was no way in hell this girl was real.
"yeah? good to know. gonna give y'some more later."
"im paying this time."
"oh, you've paid enough already." she immediately looks up at him, smacking his shoulder and he chuckles in response, pretending to be in pain. "woaaahh, bein' a little brat again, hm?"
"that's not funny, im giving you money." her tone shows no objection, he smirks and nods, knowing he won't take anything from her anyway. they sit like that for a moment, before he speaks up, knowing he will get another hit after that.
"soooo... round two?"
"christopher, i swear to god."
_____________________________
a/n: oh my god this seems sooo long đ tell me what yall think, i feel like i kinda fucked up with the whole dealer vibe but lmk please! i honestly enjoyed writing that so who knows..
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x fem reader#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#smut#dealer chris
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Easy to Please
Pairing: Sleazy Landlord!Joel x Reader
Summary: Months pass, and you canât make rentâagain. You find another way to pay your sleazy landlord. Again.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Dubcon Ă la power imbalance / sex for money. Infidelity. Pervy!Joel. Talks of abuse. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the endingâplease read at your own risk.
Note: This fic was loosely inspired by my three favorite songs about female adulteryââThinkinâ Bout Cheatinâ by Mae Estes, âLyinâ Eyesâ by The Eagles, and âCheatinâ Songsâ by Midland. No, I donât support infidelity. Yes, it makes for fun fiction.
Word count: 3.1k
You hate the face he makes when he cums.
You hate the way he tastes when heâs done.
You hate the grit and the heft of the man, every lone hair that sprouts silver from his chest, and the way he pats the open space beside him in bed after you roll away.
âNever seen a girl so goddamn allergic to cuddling!â
What makes his observation worse is that you know youâre hating it more and more with every passing day.
Today you have seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson tucked into your purse. You walk with a sluggish gait, knowing youâre $310 short of making this monthâs rent and last. But you go on anyway. Itâs not like Joel canât see you from where heâs seated on the porch.
The pleasantries you exchange are short. By now, you have only to breeze past him in his lawn chair and say, âI canât stay long,â and he knows the rest. He grabs his six-pack, then his Pall Malls, and asks after you all the same.
âHowâs the wrist?â he says.
You sprained it over the weekend. You arenât sure how he heard. At any rate, you ignore the question and set your bag down on the counter before going to the fridge. You deflect with a question of your ownâwhat the hell happened to the lemonade? He had a full jug last week.
âGot thirsty,â Joel answers, shrugging.
Youâre always thirsty, you tell him, and you eye the case of Heineken that heâs placed by your purse. You donât need to see his face to feel the smile starting to form.
âDonât I know it,â he says. Insinuating.
Youâd hit him over the head if youâd been able to reach. Heâs still smiling when your shoulder checks hisâcloser to his elbow, from the feel of itâand when you leave the kitchen, he leaves too. He trails behind you with an ease that says this is the sixth time this has happened since August, and youâre hardly a week out from Halloween.
Itâs not just rent you need to pay; itâs other things. Transmission in your truckâs gone to shit. Phoneâs been on the fritz since you dropped it in the tub. Talking heads on TV say the countryâs on track to get hit with another recession, and from the way your boss has been slashing your hours in half, you think they may be right. The crack in your bathroom window was tiny last week. Today itâs gone, because your husband put his fist through the thing on Sunday. You patched the hole with duct tape.
Joelâs covering the cost for the pane to be replaced, but thatâs because he has to. Heâs your landlordâproud owner of the Delta Commons trailer park since â97âand thatâs what landlords do. Everything else is yours to pay.
Youâre a part-time student, part-time waitress, and a full-time caretaker for your ailing spouse, or so you call him. Joel knows Stetsonâs not sick, just perennially unemployed and drunk. You pay for most things, and itâs rarely enough to cover your rent. Stetson doesnât care.
And thatâs where Joel comes in.
No pun intended, but in his mind, thereâs really no nicer way to say it: you fuck his brains out to make up for the shortfall in rent. You blow him before work to make sure your husband and you will have enough to eat that week. You bite the warm, freckled skin between his shoulder and his neck while you ride him, because you know that gesture will get you a little extra cash when you leave. You smile after swallowing him, and Joel knows that it tastes like shit. Youâve gotten good at faking it lately.
What he hopes isnât totally fabricated is the way you call him big. Strong. Handsome. So stupidly well-endowed that you have to wince for the first few seconds when you sit on it, and go slow when he takes you from behind
âO-ow!â you whine presently.
His dick isnât even in you yet. You just stubbed your toe on the edge of his dresser on your way to the bathroom.
âYou alright?â
âFuck me!â
I will, he thinks.
âWant me to get an iceââ
âLet go-OW! FUCK!â
Joel barely even touched your wrist and you were flinching away with a brand new pain. You rub it, almost defensively, then pin him with an icy glare. Nice going.
âIâm sorry,â he mumbles.
Now heâll be lucky if he can swing a half-hearted handy from the one that isnât hurt. Thatâs how mad you look.
You turn your body away, and for a second, Joel assumes that his fate has been sealed: youâll bumble over to the rug by his bed, toss a pillow on the floor, and assume what he already knows to be your least favorite position. Youâll kneel, and talk of migraines and your long, grueling day and in the end find an excuse not to use your mouth. Thatâll be okay. But with the debts you owe him now, it also wonât be enough, and Joel will have to ask you back again. He hates sounding needy, but baby, dealâs a deal.
Luckily you donât give him the chance to use that line. Much to his surprise, you get on the bed. You lie down. You seem to take a little more care settling in this time, but you take off your clothes. Itâs a lime green tank top and some ratty jean skirt, but itâs enough to tempt him.
And not just tempt, but oblige him to accept, unblinking. He crawls over the bed to get to you, and he finds that his spitâs filling his mouth a little quicker. His hands are starting to shake as they slide over the duvet, and the tree trunks he once called his legs are runny, like eggs.
He has to remind himself, bluntly, of your last name, the shiny ring on your hand, your husbandâs name, yourâ
âAgeâwhatâd you say your age was again?â Joel asks.
You look confused for a second, but you tell him.
âTwenty-one.â
Way too fucking young to have gotten hitched three years ago. But then he remembers this is Leakey, Texas, and your family hasnât strayed more than ten miles from the center of town in four generations. You told him that.
âI thought you said twenty,â Joel says, a little uneasy.
âI did. Up until this past Sunday I was.â
âOh.â
A beat.
âHappy birthday.â
You blink.
âYou gonna take your pants off or what?â
And he does. Maybe embarrassed at first, but then the jeans come off, and his boxers go next, and without so much as a word or a breath, his worries are sliding away like water off his back. Like his clothes now peeling off.
Like your smile growing thin at the sight of him half-stripped on the bed in front of you. Joel doesnât flatter himself to think heâs even half as handsome as he was in his youth, but he knows he has his draws. What endears him to you today is, unfortunately, his wallet. But that doesnât mean you canât be convinced to like him more.
More than Stetson, he thinks without humor.
Dumb son of a bitch canât tell his ass from his elbow and yet heâs won himself you, living it up these last three yâ
âOh.â
He sounds like an owl now. His clothes are off, and youâre rubbing him, pumping him gently in your hand, which you were so kind to make wet with your saliva. It even sounds better than his, the way it squelches with every flick. Joel can only say so much in strangled breaths.
He tries anyway:
âFeel like a dream, sweet pea.â
Sweet pea.
Your pace quickens. Joel swears he can see the corners of your lips twitch, but then he thinks youâre just wincing. You move down to the floor beside the bed. Kneel almost politely while you nestle yourself between his parted legs
Your mouth is warm. Itâs always warm. Joel wouldnât expect a girlâs tongue to greet his dick like ice, but yours is always heated to a thousand degrees, it feels like. He enjoys the sting. Your lips envelop his big, leaking tip, and he swears he can stay like this foreverâin you.
On you, too. Heâs got his palm resting flat on your head, and he doesnât mean to, but he pushes. He bunches your hair in a fist and drags your face to make you swallow.
Mean old man, you must be saying in your head when he stuffs your mouth full. Makes your eyes prick with tears.
Sweet girl. My sweet pea, he thinks, affectionately, and continues to rub your scalp. He holds your teary gaze.
And then youâre moving up. Down. Coating his length with shiny spit and tiny whimpers as your lips move gently back and forth, again and again. Joelâs grip tightens in your hair, and he begs for more. More.
âMore,â he orders, jaw clenched, âFit a little moreâa me.â
From where youâre kneeling below, you look put off.
Then you pull off, and you wipe your wet chin.
âChokinâ me,â you grumble, ââSâtoo big.â
Normally, Joel loves to hear that.
Now, however, heâs sliding his touch to your chin and tilting your head up to him. Thumbing at the spit dribbling out on either side of your mouth and subsequently coaxing your lips further apart.
He slides back in, and you donât fight it. You like it. Holding his gaze in a soft, docile look while your lips stretch deliciously around his shaft, you must love it. Every inch and every twinge of pleasure from the brush of his cock going in and out must be your favorite thing.
Joel hopes it is, anyway. He holds your face now, and your throat convulses involuntarily. Youâre so pretty.
âSuch a good, sweet girl, ainât ya?â he presses, watching the coarse grey hairs at the base of him tickle your face.
You respond well to praise. You preen under those words, and try to nod. But his cock is so deep down your throat you end up choking again. Joel watches all of it smiling.
Petting your head and not pushing again. Grinning.
âLove my cock nice and stuffed in that pretty throat?â
You blink instead of nodding, but itâs more than enough.
âLove me deep?â
And the head of him sinks somewhere heâs never been. Your eyes are like two wide pools, and your lips leak everywhereâyour chin, your cheeks, your neck.
Joelâs smearing it all with his palm and smiling so wide that he thinks he might pull a muscle. He pants heavily.
âJust what youâre made for. Just what you need.â
You look like you might agree. He keeps going.
âMy fuckinâ mouth. My pretty, pretty mouth.â
He holds your face. He thinks he might cum.
âAinât a damn thing Stetson can do for this mouth, huh?â
And then he doesnât. Joel barely blinks, and youâre already bucking your head out of his hold, mouth skittering away while the spit spills out. Youâre practically drenched down to the chest when your face rears back. Your eyes are alight and no longer smiling when you grit:
âDonât.â
Joel shouldâve known better.
Heâs hit a raw nerve, and now he really wishes he hadnât.
It doesnât stop thereâbut it doesnât get better, either. Things progress in much the same way as they always have but with none of the need, or the warmth, of before. You climb back up and straddle him quick. Not meeting his eye, you just sit down, and slide down, and donât wince at all. You donât tell him that heâs big, and he doesnât get the chance to even groan at the first influx of pleasure before youâre riding him. Bouncing and grinding your hips against his with all the passion of someone perusing the newspaper. You donât whimper or moan.
Of course, Joel enjoys the feeling. He also wants someone to punch him in the throat for what heâs done.
âHey, honââ he starts, voice strained, âHon, Iâm sorrââ
âShut up,â you snap.
Your movements hardly falter, and now your hand is seizing the headboard. Youâre clenching him tight inside your wet, drooling cunt, and itâs obvious youâre trying to make him cum as quickly as possible. You swallow hard.
Joel isnât sure what to do. On the one hand, his body is being flooded with pleasure, and on the other, he fears you may never do this with him again. Quickly fixing on the latter, he cups your face in one hand. Itâs still wet.
His fingers smear the spit, and somehow you look even prettier. You keep grinding your body in desperate little fits above him, and really, you feel fucking amazing, but Joel is too focused on other thoughts. He squeezes you.
âBabyââ he tries again, but you shush him just as fast.
Your hips are moving viciously now. No matter how sore your legs might have been from a long day toiling awayâjust a couple hours before your shift at your next job, if Joelâs remembering correctlyâyouâre working him well. Doing him in. Fucking his brains out, but you arenât his.
His fingers smear the spit even more. Never will be his.
âSweet peaââ
âDonât fucking call me that!â
Now he canât deny that his climax is close. But this isnât how he wanted it to endâwith you so incensed you can hardly look him in the eye. His hand rubs more, helpless.
And just when heâs seconds away from painting your insides white, losing it all to the pleasure, he sees it.
His wet, sticky touch has uncovered a residue.
Joel pulls his fingers away in a blink, and simultaneously, your eyes are fluttering closed. Youâre focused now on climax; because of that, you donât see what he sees.
What heâs stunned to find on his fingers: makeup.
Lots and lots of thick, heavy makeup on your cheeks. Concealer, he thinks heâs heard it called once or twice.
No matter the name, he quickly comes to see what itâs for. Just as youâre hitting your peak, squeezing the headboard behind him, and coming undone with a shockwave trembling all through your body, Joel pales.
The makeup that you applied so heavy tonight hides bruises. Black and blue and awful hues of greenish-purple too, your whole face, he sees, is engulfed.
He doesnât speak. He wonât ask.
He wonât cum tonight, either.
Heâll finish something else.
You leave Joelâs trailer angry. You donât say goodbye. The screen door screams shut behind you when you leave, and silently, you wonder why he didnât cum. For once, you wish he hadâand hadnât said half of what he did.
Six hours pass like molasses, and by the end of it allâthe close of your second shiftâStetsonâs name still echoes in your head. The way Joel said it. It hums along the walls of your skull while you walk, and as you draw closer to home, you remember that strange and infuriating tone.
Then you remember your own less than two months ago:
Donât talk to my husband. Donât talk about my husband.
They were two simple rules, and Joel broke them both.
He mustâve defied the first when paying a visit to make repairs that week, and thatâs when Stetson mentioned your hand: how you âslippedâ in the bath. Tripped and conveniently sprained your wrist the same night he almost tore your arm out of the socket for looking at a waiter a tad too long at dinner. Youâd bet any sum of money Joel didnât get to hear that part from Stetson when he came over to see about the window, though.
No, your twenty-first came and went without so much as a word about your wrist. Your arm. Your faceâused to getting caked with concealer every third week or so.
You wince as you open the door. You walk slowly.
At first, youâre met with silence, and you sigh with relief. Then you hear it, and shortly drop your purse to the floor.
You all but fall down yourself at the sight: your husband doubled over across from you, in the kitchen. His head in his hands. You donât need to see the face to know that itâs bleeding. Profusely. You tread ever slower into the room, thinking somehow, some way heâs going to blame this on you. And when he straightens a little and shows off the full, gruesome extent of his injuries, you blanch to think that it might be. His bodyâs been beaten to a pulp.
Your pulse hammers in your head so loud you canât hear him groan. You see him, but you donât really believe it.
And when Stetson reaches for you, you stagger back.
Your hands skim the counter, but your brain barely registers it. Your husbandâs calling to you now, âQuit standinâ there lookinâ stupid, do somethinâ, huh?!â Heâs screaming, and youâre not hearing it. Barely feeling like a sentient person at all but just a doll stumbling backward on two wooden legs. As you walk, your palm stays stuck to the laminate underneath it, and suddenly, you feel it.
An envelope.
In this state, you arenât sure why you grab it, but you do.
You take the lone white paper, and you turn to leave. Your hands shake as you hold the thing, and your legs are hardly any better, but they carry you, miraculously, from the kitchen to the threshold of the back door. Then out. Stetsonâs not just yelling but bellowing, loud, every last obscenity known to man as he holds his bloodied side and limps in his perilous, pathetic way. Fortunately, youâre gone just in time to miss the bottle he hurls.
Outside, you walk. And walk. And in the still of the night youâre obliged to find your way through a miscellany of trailers and trucks and old, creaking vans by moonlight, and the throbbing in your head begins to slow. You donât rush to get far, and you donât have your keys even if you wanted to drive off. You keep walking. Watching nothing.
When your eyes drift to the envelope in your hand, you barely see that either. Youâre just blinking as you look, and breathing as you wait for the sight to make sense.
Inside, you find seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson staring back. Next to them are a few dozen othersâenough to cover August, September, October, and several months before that, if you had to guess.
You hope youâll get the opportunity to thank Joel, and maybe tell him that you donât really hate him, someday.
#GAME JOEL I OWE YOU AN APOLOGYâŠâŠ.I WASNâT REALLY FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME#WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HE SOUNDED LIKE THAAAAAAAT!!!!#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic
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Hallow's eve
Oneshot; exes drew x yn
Summary: drew wasnât the type to get jealous. And tonight, on hallowâs eve, is his first time experiencing this bitter emotion.Â
Genre: exes to lovers, smut, angst, fluffÂ
Warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, etc
â.Ë this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
âĄâžâž happy halloween!
âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
âYou canât be fucking serious,â
Drew laughs bitterly, his eyes landing on you.Â
The light blue corset, leathered mini-skirt, police badge, duty belt, and bunny ears are all too recognizable to him. A seducing touch to the costume of Judy Hopps from Zootopia. It shows off your curves beautifully, everything about it made you look more sensual than usual.Â
But the main reason for his bitterness isnât because of your costume, ratherâŠwho youâre matching with.Â
His friend Paul. Whose wearing what was supposed to be Drewâs, the Nick Wilde costume.Â
Fuck. Itâs been a month since the breakup, and you show up with his friend?
âShit, did you know about this?â
Drew forces his eyes away from you, turning the Keith. His lips are pursed, clenching on his jaw tightly. All the emotions are coming back to him all at once; regret, anger, and confused. âDoes it look like I know?â He doesnât even try to hide the sourness in his voice.Â
Keith nervously glances to the side; he knows Drew isnât over you. Hell, Drew didnât even try to get over you, and everyone knew it. Dated for a yearâŠhow is one suppose to forget about that? âShit manâŠâ
Drew sighs, turning his gaze back to you. He hasnât seen you for a whole monthâŠand you looked beautiful.Â
And Drew of course knew how much he missed you, shit, everything he did he thought of you. Waking up? Why werenât you in his bed. Showering? Why werenât you helping him wash his hair. Eating? Why werenât you sitting in the seat beside him.Â
And seeing you hold Paulâs hand, greeting others with a soft smile; that should be him standing beside you.Â
âTheyâreâŠprobably not even together,â Keith tries to make the situation look better than it is.Â
Then, while youâre talking to someone dressed as a mummy, Paul distracts himself by planting kisses along your jaw. âNot together, huh?â Drew snickers at the audacity of Paul, doing that to you. He should know better than to touch whatâs his.Â
Drewâs whole costume feels annoying now. Obviously, breaking up with you meant having no costume. So, he improvised to dress up as Patrick Bateman, from American Psycho.Â
He shrugs the clear raincoat off, hanging it on a random coat hanger that happens to be in a kitchen. He loosens his tie, pouring himself another round of drinks.Â
When Drew glances at Keith, he sees a sly smile on his face. What the fuck-
âYouâre jealous, man.â
Jealous? To Drew, it was an ugly and immature emotion. Only insecure people feel that way. Drew wasnât insecure, god no.
No. That just wasnât who Drew was, to be jealous.Â
Besides, whatâs there to be jealous of? He knows you too well, youâre definitely just bitter. Because out of all his friends, you hate Paul the most.
His mind was just playing tricks on him.Â
But fuck- how much he wanted to punch Paul still, and claim the spot next to you.Â
âNo,â Drew laughs it off, sounding as if heâs being held at gunpoint. He downs the drink in his hand in one sip, and says more firmly this time, âno.â
Keith raises an eyebrow at him; obviously not believing his friend. âNah, you jealous. Jealous that Paul gets all that now.â
Ew. That thought disgusts Drew. âFuck off-â
Someone yells for a game of truth or dare in the living room. Drewâs eyes immediately find themselves on you, even with the huge amount of costumes in here. Paul ushers you to join; reluctantly, you follow him.Â
Seems like Drewâs also playing.Â
ââ
Amidst the loud Halloween party, a game of truth or dare begins. Refusing to answer or do the dare, results in a penalty drink.Â
Paulâs hand on your thigh makes you want to throw up. You hated this guy; why, out of anyone, did you ask him to be your date?
Your stupid pride got the worst of you, refusing to show up at the party alone, especially with the chance of seeing Drew. You suspected that he must have moved on, so you decided to show how âwellâ you were doing.
Wrong. Everyone close to you knew how many sleepless nights youâve had in the last month, depressed and withered away in your room. Really, getting ready tonight was an impossible task too.Â
Paul isâŠdisrespectful, awkward, inappropriate, the list goes on. Heâs not close with Drew; but still, it bothered you that he was always at hangouts. Once, he made a move on you (a rather rude, pushy one) while you were still with Drew.Â
Yep. Now thinking back, you wouldâve preferred to come alone instead of with this prick.Â
âYou good?â
Yeah, if you take your hand off me. âLovely,â you manage to breathe out, focusing your gaze at the circle that has now formed in the living room.Â
Your eyes land on Drew; pulling a random chair and sitting down, manspreading. He never looked finer, in his American Psycho costume. And plus, his hair. The last time you saw him, he had bangs. Not that this new buzzcut looked bad; it gave a whole new demeanor to Drew, one that was more matured.Â
Wow. Looking at him, you realize how much you miss him. You wanted to go sit next to him, run your hands through his buzzcut, and just talk to him, hear his deep, calming voice.Â
Shit. He makes eye contact with you, and for the first time, you canât tell whatâs on his mind. Is he mad? Regretful? Or does heâŠeven care? You watch as his eyes scan down your body, lingering longer on your legs. Or rather, Paulâs hand there.Â
âAlrightâŠwho wants to go first?â Some person you donât know, speaks up, sitting down on the couch.Â
The eye contact breaks, with Drew turning his face away, drinking the cup in his hand.Â
Huh.
Someone volunteers for a dare, but you donât show much interest. This is a stupid game anyways.Â
During the game, Paul would whisper something dirty in your ear, which honestly, pissed you off more. When he kissed your jaw earlier, that was already crossing the line. But you could feel someone watching you intensively, so you go along with it; smiling, whispering back, responding to his touches. You hoped that someone would call on you, just so you could leave Paulâs side for a while.Â
And as if some angel heard you, halfway through the game-
âDrew, truth or dare?â
That caught your attention, but you try not to show it. You make subtle glances in his direction, wondering what he was going to chose.Â
âDare,â his voice is deep, just like how you last remembered it.Â
The person asking was his friend, Keith. He hung around so much, that you can easily recognize the mischievous glint in his eyes; heâs gonna say something crazy.Â
Youâre right; because he says, â7 minutes in heaven. With y/n.â
The people in the circle all murmur and woo, in anticipation. Great. Was there anyone here that didnât know about the breakup?
You canât help but smile down at your lap, at how ridiculous this dare is. Surely, Drew wouldnât say yes, right? You couldnât tell; his face showed no emotion towards that dare.Â
âSay no, alright?â Paulâs disgusting voice forces you to look over at him.Â
Did you want to say no?Â
You take a good look at Paulâs face; maybe saying no isnât the worst idea. Being locked somewhere awkward with Drew sounded better thanâŠactually, better than anything.Â
Suddenly, you feel a heavy presence standing close to you. And when you look over, itâs Drew. He stands in front of you, and he holds out a hand for you to take.
You look up at his face, hints of eagerness only you could notice. He nods gently towards his hand, telling you to take it.Â
âYo dude, she doesnât wants to go-â
You take it. Your hand comes in contact with the familiar warmth, the hands that you always found comfort in. You let him pull you out of Paulâs arms, a little too rough, and you stumble a bit.Â
You smile awkwardly, holding onto his hand hard to regain your balance. âHey, Iâll be here waiting for you,â Paul continues to say.Â
âSure,â you force out, adjusting your skirt. Deep down, youâve never been more glad to be rescued by Drew.Â
ââ
Heâs walking at a fast pace, and with his grip on your hand tight, you can tell how urgent he is. His patience slips away with each tug he gives to each door he passes by, occupied by strangers already.Â
âMaybe we should just give up-â
The last door is budged opened, and when the two of you glance inside, itâs empty.Â
âGreat,â you murmur awkwardly, before forcing your hand out of his. You donât want to do so; but given the current situation between you two, itâll feel weird if you continue to hold his hand.Â
You brush past him into the small bedroom, and sit yourself on the bed. This bunny headband was getting itchy, so you take it off, putting it beside you.Â
You watch as Drew locks the door behind him, sliding his suit jacket off. Woah, woah, woah, is he stripping? âUmâŠwhat are you doing?â
His blue eyes stare blankly into yours; as he lazily rolls his sleeves up. âthe walking, it gets hot.â
Oh. HeâŠyeah, it might get too hot from all the fast walking. Why would he strip? Drew wasnât that kind of person, what were you thinking? You look down at your lap; embarrassed of your own thoughts.Â
WellâŠthis is awkward. The only sound in here was the faint music from downstairs.Â
And then Drew sits down on the bed, next to you. The mattress dips under his weight, his scent (he smells real good) hitting you, and just his overall presence.Â
That damn buzzcut. What even motivated him to get his entire head shaved? You were curious; and you wanted to know what happened to him in the past month. Was he also miserable like you? Or did he forget about everything-
âPaul, huh?â
Heâs leaned forward; so you canât really tell his expressions. But his voice comes out deep and almost hushed, like he needed to force it out.Â
Your heart was beating fast, why were you nervous? It was just Drew; youâve dated him for a year, known him for more than that. Yet, every action and word he says can still made you flustered. âWell, he has a thing for me.â
Was that the right response? You werenât sure; Drew answers a few seconds later, âI know,â you watch his back muscles through his see-through button up tense, âjust didnât know you had a thing for him.â
Almost forgot how well he knew you. âPeople can change,â you shrug, trying to act cool.Â
That earns a âtskâ of disapproval from him, and he leans back. He turns towards you; the pretty blue of his eyes staring into yours. âNot you.â
âCould say the same about you,â you bitterly reply, referring to the breakup. It was out of character for him to just dump you, saying he was âbusyâ. A dick move, to be honest.Â
Drew rolls his eyes upward; as if thinking of a response. His lips are slightly pursed; and you see the amusement in them.Â
âAm I wrong?â You press, and suddenly, the depression from the past month has surfaced into anger. Anger towards Drew. âYou have no right to say that-â
âYouâre dating Paul,â he emphasizes on the last part, his eyebrows furrowed at you. âPaul, for godâs sake.â
You shake your head, a sour smile on your lips. The anger inside of you begs to be released, and as a way of spreading it out, you stand up. So mad, you canât even sit still. âSo what? Why do you care, we broke up-â
âA month, only for a month!â He raises his voice slightly louder than yours, and he also stands up now. This escalated fast. âAnd Paul. Are you fucking serious?â
âYes I am! More than ever, you got a problem with that?â You provoke, the two of you standing in less than a meter from each other. He stares down at you, and even with your angered mind, his proximity still drives you insane. âLetâs not forget that you dumped me-â
âYouâre dating Paul?â He asks once again, realizing that you didnât correct him from earlier. His face shows it all; betrayal and disgust.
 You laugh at him, rather distastefully, âDo you not hear yourself right now? Youâre worried about that-â
âYou dating him or not?â
He just stays in place, towering over you. That question lingers in the air, his jealousy heavy. He watches you, and you see a mixture of longing and frustration in them. Heâs practically begging you with his eyes at this point.Â
The devil on your shoulder pushes you to lie, âweâve been seeing each other.â
He immediately steps away from you, pacing around the room with his hands running through his scalp. He turns back around to you, but stands at a distance now, ây/n, what the fuck-â
âWhy are you getting mad at me?â You yell back, your voice cracking.Â
âI donât believe you,â he harshly denies, shaking his head.Â
Fights with Drew was never like this; he would apologize quickly and fix the problem. Tonight? You mightâve just pissed him off to the point of no return.Â
You tuck your hair behind your ears, before placing them on your hips firmly. âWell, thatâs the truth, whether you like it or not-â
âI donât fucking believe you, y/n,â he denies once again.Â
âYou saw him around me, what else do you-â
âI donât believe you,â he repeats, closing the distance between the two of you again. You gulp at his presence towering over you; this time, thereâs an edge to his demeanor. Knowing that you lied, it felt dangerous to be standing this close to him. âYouâre bluffing, I know it.â
The sharpness in his eyes glints with challenge, searching for the truth in yours. He wonât be easily swayed; he knew you too well.Â
You cock your head to the side, the same challenge in your eyes that mirrors back to him. You donât miss it; the jealously in his. Heâs jealous right now!Â
No wayyy heâs jealous. Years youâve known him; never once have you seen him jealous. Drew was that kind of person; unbothered and sure about himself. At first it frustrated you, it seemed like he didnât care. But you soon learned that it just meant he trusted you, never questioning about your friendships or interactions.
But still, heâs jealous right now! For the very first time! And you wouldnât be you if you didnât tease him about it. Câmon, this man was jealous of Paul. How cute. âYouâre jealous,â you say, failing to hide the amusement in your tone. âYouâre fucking jealous right now-â
âNo,â he firmly denies it.Â
âYes, you are. You, Drew Starkey, is jealous-â
âIâm not fucking-â
âYes! Youâre jealous!â You point out, a bit too cheerful at that. You almost forget that youâre suppose to be angry at him, âYouâre bitter that itâs not you-â
âGosh, youâre driving me insane,â he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. âI donât feel that way-â
âOh, you totally are,â you say, taking a few steps back and snickering. Gosh, this is fun to make fun of. âDrew Starkeyâs jealous for the first time-â
Drewâs lips come in contact with yours, his tongue thrusting into yours urgently.Â
Woah.
You didnât even realize he had closed the gap again; his hands cupping your face to trap you into him. You hit his chest to push him away; but the longer his lips attach to yours, the softer your hits were.Â
Alcohol. You taste that on his lips, pretty sure yours too.Â
Yet, like a second nature, your body and brain reacts to Drew in a submissive way, kissing him back. You canât help it; the warmth of his hands on either sides of your face, his soft lipsâŠeverything about him. Everything about him is endearing to you.Â
In this moment, you realized you could never truly get over Drew. And quite frankly, you donât want to.Â
He pulls away, but his hands still remain on your face. âIâm not jealous,â he murmurs, his lidded-eyes gazing down at your lips then back your eyes. His chest under your touch rises and falls, the beat of his heart fast.Â
The urge to fight or tease him disappears; you just want to be in his presence, in his touch, feeling the warmth of him. As if it could solve all your problems. Â
âShut up,â you breathe out, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him.Â
Drew immediately kisses you back; never been more glad to be ordered to shut up. His hands move down your body, until they come in contact with the strings at the back of your corset.Â
You feel him struggling with undoing it; probably distracted by your lips on his.Â
Gosh, was it so hard to undo a couple of strings?
You force him onto the bed, and he immediately readjusts himself to a nice position. You quickly put your hands behind you and untie the strings, while Drew undos his own tie, his eyes never leaving yours.Â
âWas that so hard?â You tease him, letting the corset fall off you. Drewâs mouth is slightly opened as his eyes drift lower down to your naked chest; his fixated gaze giving you a confidence boost.
âMmhm,â he lazily replies; hands pull you into his lap by the waist. His lips attach them to yours again, and your hands work on unbuttoning his shirt. He kisses down your neck, laying love bites on it.Â
âShitâŠâ you moan. Drewâs lips were skilled, and they knew where you liked it.Â
His hands knead your breasts, just as you got his last button undone. Your hands roam around his chest, abs, then coming back up to run through his scalp. Huh. Itâs gonna take some time to get used to no hair to tug on.Â
His lips move down to your chest, and he starts to suck on your nipples. He fully makes out with them; his tongue sloppily tugging and devouring them in. It sends pleasure down to your core; and you start to rub against him, feeling the material of his pants harden.Â
âDrewâŠâ you voice out, hands feeling his scalp. It feels, weird and comfortable.Â
He pulls away, his chest heavy as he looks up at you with hungry eyes. âYeah?â
âLay back,â you order, wiping the saliva that drips down the side of his lips.Â
Drew gulps, before nodding. His hands remove themselves from you, hurriedly discards his shirt, and he scoots himself further down the bed. You get the clear look of his boner through his pants; damn.Â
Your hands go to undo your duty belt; when they come in contact with metal chains.Â
Huh? You look down and see, that it was the handcuffs you got for Judy Hoppsâ character.Â
The dirtiest idea pops up in your mind, and you look back up at Drew with a smile. His eyes are squinted at you, eyebrows furrowed. The two of you share a look; and then he shakes his head in disapproval. âNo. Iâm not getting handcuffed.â
This was never tried over the course of your relationship with him, and now that the opportunity presented itself, you had to try. You pout, taking the metal chains in your hands. You dip onto the bed, crawling between his spread legs. âPlease, baby. Itâll be fun,â you flirtatiously say, your hand crawling up his thigh. âIâll make it feel good.â
âYou always make me feel good,â he murmurs, his arms tucked behind his head.Â
âPretty please then?â Your hand comes in contact with his boner, and you grip it through his pants.Â
He moans under your touch, his mind fighting the battle to not be seduced by you.Â
You knew how much Drew liked to touch you, always having his arm around you either lovingly and protectively. He took pride in being the person that gets to touch you whenever he wants and wherever. So of course, he wouldnât be so happy to be handcuffed.Â
You swing the handcuffs, giving him a soft smile.Â
After a few seconds, he moans again, this time out of frustration, âfine. Do it.â
You smile ear-to-ear, happy that he agreed. You straddle his waist, as he offers his hands to you. You fasten one around his wrist, the material digging slightly into his skin. âDoes it hurt?â You murmur, even though you were already moving onto his other hand.Â
âIâm good,â he assures you, and when you glance down, you see that your breasts are directly in front of his face, a distraction provided. You shake your head, a soft smile on your lips as you bring both handcuffed wrists and hook it on the headboard.Â
You ignore the kisses he trails on your chest; and tug on his hands to make sure it stays there. âHey, stop it,â you warn him, before getting off.Â
By instinct, he tugs his wrists wanting to keep you atop of him, but the handcuffs stop him. âRide me, câmon,â he whines, getting impatient with the restraints of his hands. Look, you havenât even started and heâs already whining.Â
Drew looks very hot in this angle; usually in charge, to be in a position where he physically couldnât do anything.Â
You giggle, undoing the duty belt and shimmying your skirt off. You lean forward between his legs, looking up at him with intrigued eyes. âHave some patience, baby,â the nickname drives him crazy, throwing his head back in frustration.Â
His reaction makes you grin. You can see the struggle on his faceâwanting to be annoyed but unable to resist the pull of your playful teasing. Itâs the kind of tension that makes your heart race, as your hands go and undo his belt.Â
The belt comes off, next was the zipper, then his pants. You tug it down to his knees, his dick piercing through his boxers. Itâs begging to be sucked by you.Â
You pull it down, his dick practically springing out. âFuck,â you moan, leaning down close to it.Â
Drew thrusts his hips, making the tip hit your nose. You look up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. You didnât like how impatient he is right now, âstay still.â
âSorry,â he murmurs, biting down on his bottom lip. âYou look pretty from this angle, though.â
You give him a smug smile, before opening your mouth and taking his tip in. He immediately groans at that, as your mouth moves lower.Â
The tug of the handcuffs is heard, as well as Drew saying, âwanna touch you.â
You smirk against his dick, one hand gripping on his thigh, another one going up to his balls. You massage one side; while your mouth skillfully takes Drew in.Â
But Drew decides to take a step further, and thrusts his hip upward. That makes you gag; his tip hitting almost the back of your mouth. You immediately pull your mouth out, âstay still,â you say, more firmly this time. âOr Iâll leave, and youâll stay here handcuffed.â
Another tug of his handcuffs, âdidnât mean to.â
âBe a good boy and stay still, okay?â The lust, tipsiness, combined with Drewâs vulnerable situation serves as a huge boost to your confidence.Â
âYes maâam,â he murmurs, relaxing his entire body now. Youâre in charge now; the handcuffs remind him of that.Â
You give him a glare as a warning; you donât miss the small curl at the corner of his lips. You take him in again, your hand squeezing his balls gently. You start to bop your head up and down, tongue wrapping and sucking his dick.Â
âShit,â you hear him groan, âjust like that, babe.â
His soft moans ensure you that youâre doing a great job, as well as the occasional tugs of the handcuffs, his hands dying to touch you. Your head bops faster with each passing second, the pleasure of sucking his cock pooling in your undies too.Â
Itâs when you feel his cock twitch inside your mouth, you pull away.Â
âBabe, what?â He manages to breathe out, he couldnât believe that you just denied him of an orgasm.Â
That nickname sends a bigger impact to your core than it shouldâve. You sit up and lean forward, planting a sloppy kiss against his lips. He kisses back immediately, eager and needy. You pull away, âdidnât know you were this whiny.â
He forms a small frown, which makes you giggle, âIâll let you cum, stop whining,â you kiss along his neck, down his chest, abs, and stopping right before his dick. âYou got a condom?â
âYou think I planned this?â He tugs on his handcuffs. Right. He definitely wasnât planning on fucking his ex-girlfriend.Â
You get off the bed, rummaging the nightstands, hoping for condoms to be here. Nope. âFuck,â you frustratedly groan, pushing your hair to one side. âNow what?âÂ
That question lingers in the air, the two of you staring at each other. No condom, and two horny adults. There was only one solution. No, two solutions. But who in their right mind would suggest that one-
âRaw,â Drew speaks up.Â
âRaw?â Youâve never gone raw before; the risks of it overpowering the pleasure of it. You glance that Drew, seeing how calm he was to suggest that. Then at his dick, which was still erected.Â
âUnless you want to go back downstairs.â
Oh god. You didnât want to; you wanted to have sex with Drew. But you had to be honest; the idea of raw sex was terrifying.Â
âY/n?â His blue eyes meet yours, âsit down first.â
You sit back down beside him, placing your hand on his lower stomach. âRaw?â Youâre more asking yourself, yet you look at Drewâs face.Â
Drew. Going raw with Drew. Drew. Not some random guy. The Drew that youâve found yourself get really into. Okay. Maybe if you two didnât break up a month ago, you wouldâve gotten to that point with him anyways, right?Â
âYou okay?â He asks gently.Â
You give him a soft smile, getting yourself between his legs yet again. âCanât be any different than a condom, right?â
He smirks at your agreement of this, âhope so.â
You lean forward and give him a quick peck on the lips. âStretch yourself out first,â he reminds, looking down towards your core. You take your underwear off, sitting back and spreading your legs. It gives Drew the clear view of your pussy; and he groans at that. âNeed help?â
He tugs on his handcuffs. Pretty sure itâll bruise his wrists if he continues to move against them. The sly smile on his lips tell you everything; âI got it,â you assure him.Â
You line two fingers against yourself; and then put it in. âShit,â you groan at how wet you are already; thrusting your fingers in slowly.
You canât help but compare your own fingering to Drewâs; finding his more satisfying to your core. Nevertheless, you stretch yourself out just like Drew says, picking the pace after a few seconds. âFuck,â you hear him groan; and after a couple of sloppy thrusts, you pull out, finding yourself stretched.Â
âGood?â He asks, watching as you straddle yourself on his waist again.Â
âPerfect,â you practically purr, leaning forward and kissing him. You feel his smile against your lips; him kissing you back tenderly.Â
You pull away and look down; aligning yourself with his dick. Shit.Â
You sink down, feeling his cock enter you slowly. You moan loudly at the feeling; no barriers between the two anymore. When you sit down fully, youâre sure his tip hits the back of your core.Â
Drew throws his head back in pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. âFeels real good,â he murmurs, his eyes fluttering to stay open.Â
You giggle gently at his reaction; and you raise your hips, ready to start moving. You move up, then slide back down on him. âShit,â you curse, the sensation unreal.Â
Raising your hips again, you start riding him, at an unusual slow pace. Your nails dig into his shoulders, transferring the pain there. âWanna touch you,â he voices out, tugging on the handcuffs.Â
âYou touch me all the time,â you hum, continuing to slam yourself up and down him. He groans at that, a knowing smile on his lips.Â
âTouch yourself for me, then,â he thrusts his hip upwards, causing you to moan at the friction.Â
You do as told; bringing your hands up to your breasts and squeezing them while bouncing. Youâve never felt this much pleasure; the feeling of Drew watching you while you ride him, your hands all over while you imagine it being him.Â
The sound of skin slapping, heavy moans, and the tugs of Drewâs cuffs fill the room, as well as the rising temperature in here. This sex experience reminds you just how much you and Drew are compatible for each other; easily kinky and fond together.Â
You feel the familiar hotness fill up your core, your movements getting more sloppy. âClose?â He asks, sounding breathless.Â
âYes,â you moan, your hands back around his shoulders.Â
Drew leans himself upwards with his upper body, and he gives you a messy kiss. His kiss sends you over the ledge; and you feel the knot coming undone. He pulls away with a smug smile, âcame all over my cock.â
âShut up,â you smile, pulling him back and kissing him again. You liked kissing him more than you should.Â
âHey, can you undo these for me?â He tugs on the handcuffs for the nth time tonight.Â
âShould I?â You cock your head playfully to the side. He playfully thrusts upwards towards your core, and you groan at that. âFuck, Drew.â
âCâmon, undo me,â he begs, his blue eyes staring teasingly into yours.Â
Gosh, this man. Itâs unfair how attractive he is, from his looks to his actions. Everything, just touches your heart. You pull out of him, the stickiness around your legs donât feel as gross as they should. But you do miss the warmth of him, feeling bit empty.Â
You search around for your duty belt; grabbing it off the floor. It had three little compartments around it, and you rummage around each one. The cheap material makes it hard to open each.Â
âBabe, youâre taking forever,â you hear him behind you.Â
You ignore his comment; working your way to the last one. Surely the key had to be in the last one, right?
Is it; and you throw the belt back down, turning back to him. âWere you always this impatient?â You ask, unlocking both of his wrists.Â
The handcuffs shoot down as soon as youâre done; and he flips you under him in one fast motion. You let out a shriek, not expecting to be pinned in mere seconds. He looks down at you with a small smirk, âmy turn.â
âWhat?â You let out a nervous giggle, his hold on your wrists tightening.Â
You let out a loud gasp when he shrinks his length down into your core; pushing it fully in at once. Shit, shit, shit. His lips attach themselves to your neck, leaving love bites, eventually moving down lower. âDrew,â you manage to breathe out despite feeling the weight of him down on you.Â
âYeah?â He mumbles against your skin, one hand intertwining with yours.Â
ââŠfeels good,â you admit, even though it was unexpected to be pinned down. Having his cock fully in you; felt like heaven. Now, heâs gonna give you your second orgasm of the night; halloween? Must be Christmas.Â
âIâknow,â he kisses your jaw, his other hand now kneading your breasts. âBesides, havenât cummed yet.â
Oh. You were consumed with chasing your own orgasm, you didnât realize that Drew hasnât had his yet.Â
Drew starts to push his body into yours, picking up the pace after each thrust. He hits your exact g-spots, knowing your body all too well. You moan loudly in his ear, mixed in with his. Just like that, your second orgasm slowly forms.
âShit,â he curses, his hands locking tightly with yours.Â
Okay, raw sex definitely felt better than condom ones. Or was it because itâs Drew? Either way, you want to do this more, honestly. Maybe the handcuffs too.Â
âClose, Drew,â you breathe out between thrusts.Â
âSame, babe,â he kisses your cheek.
The knot comes undone for the second time tonight, and you cum over his dick. At the same time, you feel it twitch inside you; his turn.Â
Drew gets ready to pull out, but you hurriedly wrap your arms around his shoulders. âCum inside me,â you urge him, wanting to feel yourself filled with his orgasm.Â
Drew gives you a lazy smile, lips leaning towards yours. And this kiss, was more endearing, his tongue moving in a soft tempo. He cums, and you feel the warmth of him mixing with yours.Â
You smile back against his lips; youâve never had such mind-blowing sex.Â
He eventually pulls out of you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. You let him clean you up, leaning against the headboard; the two of you staying silent to recover from what just happened.Â
And slowly, the realization of what happened, fogs up the both of your minds. Lust is gone, now only left with clarification. Clarification of whatâll be next, between the two of you.
âDrew?â You speak up, as he finishes and cleans himself up quickly, throwing it in the trash after.Â
He sits by your legs, his blue eyes looking up and meeting yours. âI miss you.â That confession catches you off guard. You gulp, looking down at your lap. âIâm sorry,â he adds, voice cracking.Â
Your heart aches at that; and you feel him move to the spot besides you. He pulls the covers up, covering the both of you. âIâm sorry,â he repeats once again, âIâm, Iâm a stupid fuck.â
âYou are,â you agree, still looking down and playing with your fingers.Â
âI justâŠwe dated for a year. And, I just got scared?â The last part was almost as if he also didnât believe himself for feeling that way.Â
âWhy?â
âI donât know, justâŠsomething I feel. But I realized, not being with you was worse,â his hands wrap around yours, and you look up at him. His blue eyes are mixed with regret, sincerity, andâŠlove. Well, at least you interpret it that way.Â
âTook a month away from me to realize that?â
âYes. I think that just shows how idiotic I am. Trust me, the past month was horrible.â
You giggle, âyou canât just dump me whenever you feel like it.â
âFirst and last time,â he promises.
âWhat?â You look at him questionably.Â
âIf youâll take me back.â
Do you want to take Drew back? Your mind was screaming no, but your heart was telling you to spend forever with him. He really hurt you, and he really is an idiot. But heâs your idiot. And one year of dating has told you that he does make stupid decisions, coming to regret them later.Â
Fuck it. You always listened to your heart anyways. âFine, if you insist,â you playfully say, your hands intertwining with his again. You missed holding onto these hands. Then, your eyes drop to his wrists, seeing the red spots around them. âDrew, those handcuffs-â
Drewâs other hand cups your face, and he sends an attack of his kisses to your cheek. You laugh loudly at that, which just drives him to give you more. âHey-â he kisses your lips, the two of you leaning down until your backs hit the mattress.Â
âIâŠâ
âHmm?â You stare into his eyes. He stares at you all smitten, his lips slightly open in awe.Â
âIâŠlove you,â he confesses.Â
Oh. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fight to get out, and you let them. You love Drew. Yeah, you love Drew. After everything youâve been through with him, you deserved to be loved, to be loved by him. âI love you more,â you emphasize on the last word.Â
âFuck,â he kisses you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer into his arms. âDriving me insane. Insane, yâknow that?â
âIâknow,â you giggle, the two of you staring lovingly into each otherâs eyes. Youâve never felt happier. And when your hands run through his scalp; youâre reminded of his buzzcut. âHey, why did you shave your hair?â
âIt got annoying,â he rubs circles around your waist, âand, well, I missed you.â
âso you shaved your hair?âÂ
ââŠyeah,â suddenly he gets shy, burying his face into your neck. You smile at that, feeling like heâs a little baby.Â
After a few seconds, he murmurs against your neck. âHey, yâknow what you should dress up as next year?â
âNext year already?â You look down at him, him looking back up at you.Â
âYeah,â he pulls away, âLola bunny.â
Lola bunny? Wasnât that the cartoon character? From Loony tunes? You furrow your eyebrows at Drew, âwhy?â
He gives you a grin, âkindaâŠmy childhood crush.â
âReally?â This is the first time heâs telling you this; and you canât help but grow amused at that. Lola bunny? Maybe that can explain why heâs so weird sometimes. Cute weird. âWill you be my Bugs then?â
âOf course,â he immediately says, ânot Paul, thatâs for sure.â
Paul. Youâre suddenly reminded of that gross man you asked to come with you; and also of Drewâs jealously. Hey, heâs jealous! That thought is bought up in your mind once again, thanks to Drew himself. What girlfriend would you be if you didnât tease him about it? âOh, you were so jealous.â
âJealous? No,â he denies, even with the small smirk on his lips.Â
âSo itâs okay if I see Paul-â
âWeâre together, now. Like, literally a few seconds ago,â he cuts you off. âScrew Paul. Or any other guy.â
âThatâs jealousy,â you smile, pointing at his face.Â
He bites on your finger, causing you to shriek and put your finger down. âJust love you a lot.âÂ
Your heart warms at that; but it doesnât change your mind about how jealous he was. âDrew, you donât need to be jealous. Iâm yours.â
He chuckles, âIâm not jealous!â
Okay. He might never admit it. His pride, and his overall aura, jealousy just wonât be something he wants to bow down to.Â
âOf course,â you rest your chin on his forehead. âOf course.â
âI wasnât jealous!â He continues to hum.Â
âShhh,â you coo at him, rubbing the skin around his shoulders, which feel firm yet soft. Your eyes are falling heavy, and in Drewâs arms, you knew you could get some comfortable sleep. The first time; for the past month.Â
You close your eyes, ready to drift to sleep, when Drew says, âI think we went over 7 minutes.â
âHuh?â You lazily reply, your brain ready to turn off.Â
âNothing.â
That was the end of the conversation; and you drifted off to sleep, knowing that Drew was beside you. The familiar scent of him dozes you off, and you feel safe knowing heâs going to be taking care of you.Â
Lola bunny. Maybe you should dress up like her next year, fulfill Drewâs nasty fantasies. Huh. Maybe.Â
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word count: 6.6k
ÖŽ àŁȘđ€ a/n: petition for drew to be patrick bateman đââïž
happy halloween! what are you dressing up as??? hope you enjoyed this oneshot, kinky and got really sweet in the end. pls ignore any mistakes; i hate proofreading. anyways, happy halloween! ik im already looking forward to christmas ;)
#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#x reader#drew starkey x you#oneshot#smut#angst#fiction#fluff#exes to lovers#kinktober
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Keep Your Eyes on Me
tara carpenter x female reader
summary: Youâve quickly become close with all of Taraâs friends, but her trust issues keep her at a distance from you. But maybe you're able to chip away at her defenses...
word count: 2.2k
ââââ
"I don't get why no one else is suspicious of her!" Tara exclaims looking around at everyone with a frustrated expression. "Mindy? You're literally suspicious of every living thing. And Sam what the fuck, you don't let me leave the house unless I'm carrying a cross bow or something," she exaggerates rolling her eyes.
"Why are we speaking about me like I'm not here?" You whisper to Chad next to you while ripping your string cheese into strands. He laughs but so does everyone else, seems like your whisper wasn't as quiet as you thought.
Tara groans frustrated and heads up the stairs, leaving her friends and you in the living room in an awkward silence.
Sam was the first to break it, "She'll come around, it's just been hard on her you know? Trusting new people and all that fun stuff."
You give her a nod completely understanding the root of Tara's issues with you, it wasn't personal but that didn't mean her distrust in you didn't sting. Especially considering it's been four months since you met the group.
"I am curious though," you speak, "She's not wrong Mindy, you're sus of everyone. And Sam why do you trust me too?"
"Well you met my brother playing pickle ball," the twin speaks. "Pickle ball doesn't really strike me as a psychopathic killer activity," she laughs.
"Neither does string cheese. Can you imagine Ghostface stringing their cheese and eating it?" Sam adds with a laugh.
You don't know whether to be relieved or offended that your habits don't indicate you to be a killer. But you're grateful that the rest of the group clicked with you quickly after Chad introduced you to them.
The core four minus Tara sometimes wanted to smack the girl across the head for being so oblivious and blind to you. Before you met the group Chad being the yapper that he is, explained all that happened in the past year and a half, so you were fairly well equipped with knowledge on how to navigate a friendship with everyone.
Everyone also noticed how attentive you were to Tara especially. You didn't know what it was but you immediately developed a soft spot for the girl when Chad told you all she went through. Meeting her for the first time you instinctively felt the need to protect her but that's been quite hard with her negative feelings towards you, but that doesn't mean you don't try.
ââââ
Sam eventually goes up to Tara's room once everyone leaves and decides to put an end to this. The younger Carpenter looks at her sister from her bed when the door is opened at a speed where its hinges could fly off.
"Jesus Sam, why are we trying to break my door."
"What the hell are you doing Tara?" Sam gets to the point ignoring the question.
"What are you talking about?"
"Y/n."
"Ughhhhhh!" She turns around face planting into her pillow with a groan, hating the topic of you.
"It's been four months and you haven't once given the poor girl the benefit of the doubt." The sister says softly. "I don't know why you're so keen on hating her, it's like you want her to be Ghostface just so you can prove a point."
Tara turns around to respond, clearly annoyed. "Because it's so clear she doesn't have good intentions! I don't get you either sis, you want me to be cautious of people, but it's a problem when its Y/n?"
Sam sighs moving to sit on the foot of the bed, "Tara, do you not see how much that girl cares about you?"
Tara is silent and looks down at her fiddling hands not knowing what to say. She does know how much you care and she hates it.
All those times you would come over to her place with the excuse of "Mindy sent me to grab something" but you always stayed until Sam got home from work, just so she wouldn't have to be alone.
"Clearly you do realize how much she cares for you," Sam says taking notice of her sister's silence and demeanor.
Tara turns red recalling how you would always be attentive to the leg that Ghostface broke a year ago. You would always position yourself so she'd have access to the railing of a staircase. Offer to drive her places that may have seemed like too lengthy of a walk. Straggle behind the group when you realized she couldn't walk as fast as the others. And even deprive yourself of any physical activities that the group was participating in, so Tara wouldn't feel alone when she sat out.
"The damn girl literally sits in the kitchen whenever your hungry ass wants to cook something so you'd feel safer!" Sam suddenly says. "Even I hadn't thought about how being in the kitchen may give you PTSD."
Tara hadn't either. But now that she knew the reason why you'd sit with her in the kitchen, she realized that she did feel much more comfortable with you in there then the times you weren't. After all she did have her attack take place in the kitchen. The brown eyed girl shrunk into her sweater in shame as she recalled how poorly she treated you that day.
You leave the group who were playing an intense round of charades in the living room and decide to join Tara who was alone in the kitchen.
"Hey what are you making?" You smile.
She ignores you and continues to get the seasoning out for the mac and cheese she was making herself.
"Why aren't you playing with everyone else?" Tara suddenly spoke.
"Just wanted to see what you were up to."
"Well you can leave now," she rolls her eyes.
"I'm good, I'll stay here."
"You do know that you aren't winning any points with me by trying to talk to me and forcing proximity right?" Tara says with attitude. "I still don't trust you and if your goal isn't to kill me, but just to get in my pants, then I'm so sorry if I ever made you believe that you had a chance with me." she finishes sarcastically feigning a genuine apology.
"Not my goal," you reply keeping it short. You knew the girl would not receive anything you say, so you got up from the seat you initially took at the island in the kitchen and went to the dining table which was a little further away. Tara thought that you left since she didn't hear any comments from you anymore and her pride was too high for her to turn around and check if you were still there. She couldn't control the frown that was making its way onto her face. That was until she heard you scrolling through TikToks at the table and suddenly felt a sense of relief that couldn't be explained.
She would continue to finish her mac and cheese and tried to hide her laugh from any funny TikTok sounds she heard from your phone. And tried her hardest to shutdown her curiosity whenever she heard your laugh. As soon as she finished making her bowl, she walked out of the kitchen not even glancing at you. She was too stubborn to realize that she hadn't once thought about her attack due to your presence in the kitchen.
Until now.
"That's why I trust her Tara," Sam reveals. "She notices things that I don't. I can't always be watching out for you. You need to have a bunch who have your back, and for that to happen you need to take a chance on people here and there."
"Just think about it. Just separate your idea of Y/n being Ghostface and the possibility that she can betray you. And ask yourself what kind of person is left standing in front you. And is that the type of person you want to take a chance on."
ââââ
Two weeks have gone by since the group last saw each other, and since then you and Tara were able to do a lot of individual thinking. Today the group decided that they went too long without seeing each other and they all decided to go to bar in downtown Manhattan.
Everyone decided to meet at the Carpenter residence, and Tara hated to admit it, but she was excited to see you, but she also felt nervous at the thought of being around you.
You were the last to arrive, and you greeted all your friends with a smile. Tara was waiting with a smile for you to greet her like you always do, but it never happened.
You ignored her.
"Is everyone ready to go?" You say looking at everyone except Tara.
The shorter girl had to compose herself before anyone realized that she was bothered by your lack of acknowledgement. She didn't know how to feel, what in the world were you doing?
The group made their way to the subway in one piece, and the two Carpenter sisters were walking side by side while everyone else was a little ahead.
"What the fuck is Y/n doing?" Tara whisper yells to her sister.
"What do you mean?" Sam replies playing stupid.
"She's not even looking at me?" Tara admits, not caring at how childish she sounds. "Why isn't she paying attention to me?"
Sam laughs at what two weeks of not seeing you and some deep reflection has done to her sister. "I mean what do you expect, it's not fair for her to keep trying for someone who doesn't make the same effort. She's probably done trying." Despite her words, Sam didn't believe a thing she was saying, she wondered what the intentions behind your actions were, but the Carpenter knew it was nothing ill.
Tara makes a hmpf sound, and tries to act unbothered by her sister's words. But the idea of you not having your gaze on her worries her more than she would like to admit.
Meanwhile 20 paces in front the sisters you and the twins are having a interesting conversation of your own.
"I can't do this anymore!" You whine looking at Mindy.
"Girl, stand the fuck up, it's been 20 minutes since we left the house, can't you see that it's already working?"
Chad chimes in, "Honestly I agree with my sister for once, she'll be yours by the end of today."
"W-whoa I don't want her to be mine or anything," you blush. "She's gone through a lot, I just need her to tolerate me, you know?"
Mindy rolls her eyes but smiles, happy that Tara has someone patient like you in her life. "Yeah yeah Y/l/n, now walk faster, it's not like she can run and catch up."
Your jaw drops while Chad drops dead in laughter.
Everyone manages to get onto the same subway cart in one piece, and you realized how much harder it was going to be acting like you can't notice Tara in here. The subway was packed from one end to the other. And you just so happened to be standing next to the only available seat.
You glance at Tara only to see her already looking at you and you immediately look away. Trying to get Mindy's attention you some how try your best to mime to her that you want Tara to sit in the free seat. Though of course Mindy's horrible charade skills translate into real life and she ends up sitting in the seat herself.
You face palm at your friend, and gave up on trying to look out for Tara. But in that very moment you notice a man getting far too close to the girl than you would like. It was a crowded cart so proximity was a given, but this seemed deliberate on the stranger's part.
Acting without thinking, you shove the guy as casually as you can to the side, not realizing that it meant you are now face to face with Tara. Just as you were about to break and speak to her, the subway doors open at your stop.
Tara hated that the doors interrupted the words you were going to say to her, but was grateful that it got her attention off of you before you could notice the blush on her cheeks.
As everyone got off the subway, you find yourself straggling behind the group out of habit. Just as you attempt to quicken your pace, you feel a tug on your sleeve.
Tara looks up at you with her big eyes, and you don't know what to do. This is the first time the girl has looked at you without rolling her eyes or looking away immediately.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
You didn't know what to say, and continue walking with her by your side, so you don't fall too far behind from your friends. "It's okay," you mutter back looking straight ahead.Â
You don't blame the girl for her behaviours. Her traumas manifested into something difficult and she was making an attempt to be better. That's all that mattered to you. And maybe you were just too weak for the girl that you would let anything slide, but you were fine with that too.Â
Tara smiles at you, happy that you weren't giving her a hard time. Happy that you understood what those two words she just told you encapsulates.
Suddenly she grabs you by your arm and holds it as you walk side by side.
Startled by her touch you look at her.
She smiles up at you, "It's easier for you to keep your eyes on me this way. No need for secret glances."
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter imagine#beetlejuice#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter#scream 2022#tara carpenter x you#scream 5#scream vi#scream franchise#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x you#amber freeman#cairo sweet#cairo sweet x reader
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Mi Niña Hermosa
Masterlist
Summary - Javier gets you pregnant, but then he gets scared, leaving you to raise your little girl all alone. One day, he sees you working at a brothel to try and make ends meet, and realises what he needs to do.
A/N: for this ask! i hope you like it pookie<3 also please excuse any bad spanish! i tried my best with it but it might not be 100% accurate.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Word count: 2k
Warnings: mentions of sex work and sex, violence, language, pregnancy/children, arguing, brief suicidal ideation, hurt+comfort, angst, men being men
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
âShh, shh, Carmen, mi amor. EstĂĄ bien,â you plead with your baby daughter. Sheâs been up for the past hour because of yet another explosion a few blocks away. You think it was a car bomb this time, but does it really matter? All you know for sure is that Carmen is not going to let you sleep through the night because of it.
Sheâs almost 12 months old now, which means it's been almost 2 years since you last saw Javi. You hate yourself for it, but sometimes you look at your little girl and feel bitter. Itâs not her fault, but she was the reason that Javi finally said goodbye to you.
You both knew it was a long time coming, but when you showed him a positive pregnancy test that night, you yelled at each other until your throats were raw and all your tears had been cried, before he slammed the door in your face and left you there. It was the final time you saw him.
Because of Carmenâs deadbeat father, you ended up in a brothel. It was one of the hardest decisions of your life, but you knew you had to do it for her.
âÂĄMuy bien chicas, salgan y ganen algo de dinero!â You want to jump out of this building, is your first thought. Crash all the way to the floor and forfeit this terrible life youâve been âblessed withâ. But you canât. So you hold your head high, plaster on a smile, and walk out into the lobby of the brothel.
Your smile drops when you see him.
Of all the fucking brothels to go to, he chooses this one? The one you just so happened to start working at a week prior? That tenth-storey window looks even more tempting right now, especially when he locks eyes with you.
Heâs with a man, blonde hair, blue eyes. You think that manâs name is Steve Murphy. Yes, youâve seen them on the news. Who the fuck hasnât? It just makes you even more frustrated. He left you and Carmen behind so that he could hunt down Pablo Escobar. He abandoned the two of you for fame.
Javiâs eyes dart back and forth between you and Steve, before he starts making his way towards you.
Hell to the fucking no. You turn on your heel and almost drag a man you noticed was ogling you for the past 5 minutes into one of the rooms, letting the curtains close behind you, separating you from Javi.
The time you share with that man is no different than any of the other men youâve been with, all uncomfortable and gross for you, mind-blowingly good for him.
Sometimes you still think of Javi when you feel a man on top of you. He was the best you had, after all.
Outside, Javi curses loudly, drawing the eye of a few people and his partner.
âWhat the fuck was that, Javi? Weâre here to question the girl, not chase after this random. Your dry spell that bad?â Steve laughs, clapping him on the back. Javi quickly shrugs him off, jaw clenched and gaze hollow.
âI know her.â He mutters. Yes, he knows you. He knows every part of you. Your smile, which he only saw on a rare occasion. Your eyes, which could always pierce him, see straight through his soul and see the worst parts of him. Your body, which you now sell because of him.
Steve is still yapping on about something or other whilst the storm inside of Javi swirls, growing and growing. Youâre behind that curtain, selling your body. He knows why youâre doing it too, and it makes him feel even worse. He feels like heâs about to pass out as it all hits him at once.
What a piece of shit heâs been.
You donât deserve this life. You deserve to be happy, supported and protected by someone, anyone who can help you. Not Javi though. Heâs not fit to be a father. After what heâs seen, what heâs done, he could never care for something as precious as your baby.
But he knows what men are like. Knows that, somehow, heâs one of the better men in this country. Itâs not a high bar to pass, this he knows too, but he figures that it must be why you have to work here to provide for yourself and his child. Fuck. He doesnât even know the gender, the name. He wasnât there for you at all, and he should have been.
It feels like thereâs no going back though. How could he ever apologise enough or make it up to you? What heâs done is irreversible. Just from the way you reacted when you saw him now, it feels like itâll be impossible to try to apologise to you.
He thinks of his father, his mother. How disappointed would they be? They probably already were, but with this? Abandoning a girl with a child he gave her?
They would surely disown him.
He feels like heâs been ungrateful too. After being raised by two loving and caring parents, how could he leave his own child without one? And with a life like this?
He runs a hand down his face, telling Steve to shut up. A loud shout from the man behind the curtain, surely finishing without giving you a moment of pleasure. He knows what you sound like when the sex is good. You barely made a peep in these past 5 minutes.
The man walks out, commenting on âhow good that slut wasâ as he walks past Javi and Steve, and it takes everything in him not to punch him square in the face there and then.
âI need to talk to her, Steve. 5 minutes.â Javi decides suddenly. He canât let this go on.
âYou better not be fucking on the job, Javi.â
He grunts in response, entering the room and letting the curtains slide closed behind him.
The entire world goes still, silent just for the two of you. Almost 2 years have gone by, and this is how you meet. The shame almost swallows him whole.
âIâm so sorry.â He says, before you can even register whatâs happening, because he knows youâll be ready to kick and scream to get him away from you when you do.
Unsurprisingly, your eyes well with tears, and your face twists into one of disgust.
âWhy the fuck are you here.â You spit, holding your robe tighter around yourself.
âWe were here for a job, and-â
âDo you think I actually care? You fucked off two years ago, I donât want to see you back here now. Whatever it is you want, I donât care.â You interrupt. Yes, this was going to be as difficult as he thought.
âBaby, please just-â
âDonât fucking call me that! You donât get to call me that!â You shout. Heâs on borrowed time before somebody comes and escorts him out of here.
âJust listen to me, please. Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry.â He pleads, desperate for you to listen. He doesnât know how to get his message across to you.
Your tears burst forth, fat droplets cascading down your skin as you turn away from him.
âGo away, Javier. I donât want to see your face ever again. I see it in her everyday and it already haunts me enough.â
His baby is a girl.
âIâm here to talk about her. I⊠I want to help. Iâm so sorry for leaving. I got scared. I thought- I wasnât ready to take care of something as precious as a baby⊠I thought you would get hurt if it was discovered that a DEA agent like myself had a child.â
âYeah. Agente de la DEA, Javier fucking Peña,â you scoff, âwho abandoned his child in pursuit of fame. To catch a bad guy. Some fucking hero you think you are.â
He canât get angry with you. He wonât. However wrong you are about what you just said. He wonât do it.
âI donât want fame.â He grits out. How much of an asshole is he that you thought he would leave you for fame? âIâm trying to help this country. It was dangerous enough for me to see you regularly, you know this. If I was seen with a woman and a child, they wouldnât waste a second trying to kill you both. I couldnât let that happen to you. I care about you. Please understand, baby.â He begs you again, hand carefully reaching for your shoulder and turning you to face him. Youâre still sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you refuse to meet his gaze.
âMĂrame.â He whispers, cupping your jaw and tilting your head up so he can see your eyes.
âPlease, Iâm sorry.â He says. Heâll say it thousands, millions of times, it still wonât be enough, but he can see that youâre starting to understand.
âItâs been 2 years. I had to be pregnant and raise her all by myself. Not once did you check on me.â
âI was scared. I was being a coward, I know. I⊠I wonât be surprised if you tell me to leave again, but let me help pay for her. I donât want you working here. Itâs dangerous.â He murmurs, eyes shining with emotion as he looks into yours.
You shake your head, and he gets ready to argue about it, but you pull him closer, squeezing the air out of him and shaking with sobs again.
âIâve needed you for so long. I- I donât know how I managed this long. I need you, Javi.â You choke out, his heart shattering with every word until itâs laid out on the floor for you.
âI know. Iâm sorry, baby, Iâm so sorry.â He soothes, running his hand through your hair.
Over the next month, he helps you leave the brothel, gives you some money to get on your feet. You still live apart, despite his protests that youâd be safer living with him, youâre not ready yet.
Today you figure will be the decider of that. Heâs going to meet Carmen.
You rub your eyes as the morning sun hits you, rousing you from your sleep. The clock reads 9:37. Just over 20 minutes until your daughter finally meets her father.
The 20 minutes are spent waking and feeding her, before a knock on the door stops you.
You exhale shakily and walk to the door, opening it slowly.
âHola, Javi.â You say softly. He greets you, equally timid. You notice heâs holding a little teddy bear in his hands, almost making you laugh at how it looks being held by this big brooding man, but you just shake your head.
âCome and meet her.â You murmur, opening the door further so he can step inside.
There, messing around on your bed, is the most beautiful little girl heâs ever seen. He can definitely see his features on her face. The lips, the eyes. She got your nose, thankfully he thinks, and her hair is a unique blend of yours and Javiâs.
âSheâs so beautiful.â He whispers, and you just nod, still unsure of your feelings for him right now.
âCarmen, baby, say hello.â You coo, picking her up and bringing her over to Javi. Heâs quiet, scared, as always. But then she babbles at him, clapping her hands together and trying to reach for him. The teddy. He almost forgot about it.
âHola pequeña, soy tu papĂĄ. ÂżQuieres el peluche?â He says softly, waving it around a bit before handing it to her and letting her play. You and Javi talk for a bit while she sits on the bed, but then something happens. She gets tired, which is normal around 2pm, but instead of crawling to you, she goes to Javi. Carmen wraps her little fingers around one of his larger ones, curling up in his lap. The two of you still, and it shocks you to see tears appearing in his eyes as he strokes her hair, letting her sleep on him.
You decide to move in with him that night, realising that you donât want him to be away from you and Carmen ever again.
TYSM for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! đ
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña angst#javier peña smut#javier peña fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña fic#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x y/n#javier peña x you#any pedro pascal character#pedro pascal fandom#pedro boys#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#amyispxnk fics
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JJK men with a big-chested reader
Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)
Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! đ€
Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!
Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much đ
Click here to get to the small-chested version
Nanami Kento
You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.
âYou look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.â
Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? Youâve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldnât keep up. And now youâre sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.
You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isnât possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.
This isnât exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though youâve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you donât look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely donât. And you fucking hate it.
âI know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, arenât you?â
His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.
âNoâŠI meanâŠYes, kindaâŠâ
You canât lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So youâll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.
âI always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.â
You canât help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldnât? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how youâre feeling.
âListen, darling.â
He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.
âI just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you donât want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.â
âNo!â, you blurt out immediately.
Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.
âI meanâŠIt has nothing to do with you, itâs me.â
âHow is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-â
âIâm afraid.â
You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-
âHey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me whatâs wrongâ
He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you canât lie into his gorgeous face.
âWhen I take my bra of my breasts justâŠhang. Itâs even visible through my t-shirtâŠâ, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.
Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?
âLet me make a few things clear.â
He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?
âFirst of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-â
âYou didnât even see them yet.â
âI donât have to in order to know thatâ, he continues.
âNothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I donât know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isnât it digging into your skin?â
Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.
âIt kinda isâŠâ, you confirm with low voice.
âDonât do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?â
Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that heâs telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if heâs still disgusted after saying all those nice words?
You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.
âGo aheadâŠâ, you mutter against his chest.
His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.
Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.
âYou will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortableâ, he gently speaks out.
You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.
âCome on, letâs go to sleep.â
âYeahâ, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.
âGoing to bed sounds goodâŠâ
Geto Suguru
You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment youâve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.
What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldnât believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.
But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part youâve always got picked on by all the other girls.
âLook, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!â
âThat cleavageâŠSheâs literally begging for it, what a bitch.â
âEw, are those pimples on your tits?â
You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breastsâŠ
âWaitâ, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.
âDid I do something wrong? If you donât want to, we donât-â
âNo, this is great. I- ⊠I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know thatâŠâ
You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguruâs chocolate brown orbs donât show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.
He deserves to know it
âI might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-â
âStop that right now, (y/n).â, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.
But it doesnât look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didnât even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?
âThere is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isnât âniceâ. I donât care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I donât care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.â
His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of youâŠHe just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.
âWell, thatâs coolâ, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.
There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.
âAre you okay with me touching them?â, he purrs against your ear.
A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reachesâŠ
Your breasts.
What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.
God, who would have thought youâd ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.
âYou look absolutely gorgeous. I canât stop looking at you, (y/n).â
You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.
âSoâŠyou donât mind the way my breasts look?â, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.
âMore than that, I adore youâ, he replies in an instant. âAnd now, let me see you in your full glory.â
Yuji/Sukuna
Youâre back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.
Just like right now.
âCome on, I just asked for one grab!â, a guy shouts after you.
Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. Itâs just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.
âWhy would you want to touch her? She looks like a cowâ, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.
âWhat a slutâ, another voice mutters.
âOh, I didnât know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?â
Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If thereâs someone you donât want to hear those things about you, itâs Yuji Itadori.
âJ-justâŠl-leaveâ, you stutter.
âHuh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?â
âLook, the cow brought her friends!â
âDo you think heâll get in her pants today?â
âWhat a lucky bastard, Iâd love to touch them just onceâŠâ
Yujiâs face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.
âHey, thereâs no need to be rudeâ, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.
You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasnât enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?
âStep aside, loser. Let me handle that.â
Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?
âAre you crazy? I definitely wonât let you out right nowâ, Yuji replies in an instant.
âYou arenât able to help her brat, now get lost!â
âI wonât let you-â
Enough.
âNow who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?â
That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this canât be-
âWith tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as wellâ, he spits at one of the girls following you.
âAnd you.â
With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guyâs wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.
âP-please. Donât!â, you shout after him.
Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?
âWere you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desiresâ, Sukuna continues.
âIf it wasnât for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-â
In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.
You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?
âGet goingâ, he barks at you.
âThis was unnecessaryâ, you mumble.
âAnd give Yuji back.â
âYou should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.â
âNo, they will be scared of you for the rest of their livesâ, you clarify, hands still trembling.
âSo what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculousâŠâ
You canât believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you areâŠperfect?
âYou didnât mean thatâ, you breathe out.
âOh god Iâm so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?â, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.
Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukunaâs gone. SukunaâŠstood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.
What?
âN-Noâ, you stumble.
How are you supposed to get over this?
Gojo Satoru
Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar youâve seen.
Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.
âNot badâ, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.
A cocktail, exactly what you need today.
âHey, Iâd love to order somethingâ, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.
What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. Youâre usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.
âThere you goâ, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.
You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.
âIâve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.â
Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you canât hear him and leave.
Honestly, there arenât many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since youâve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you werenât a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:
Your boobs.
Is the man sitting next to you one of them?
âHey, Iâm talking to you, gorgeous.â
Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.
âExcuse me, Iâm not up for a talkâ, you bite back.
While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You canât even count how many times youâve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. Itâs safe to say you have enough of all of this.
âA woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you donât want me to talk to you?â
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didnât fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?
âJust because my boobs are big doesnât mean Iâm a slut. Watch how you talk to meâ, you bite back.
âI talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere moreâŠprivate?â
The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojoâs eyes is hard to bear. He doesnât even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isnât right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldnât let other peopleâs business bother him. Fuck, wasnât he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-
You arenât even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.
âI think the lady said no. Donât ya think itâs a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a womanâs boobs?â
His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men youâve ever met.
âIâŠSheâŠShe said she wanted it to!â, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.
âI said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!â, you clarify in harsh tone.
Oh, how much youâd love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.
âA guy like you wouldnât end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isnât your first time, huh?â
With a swift motion, he begins to twist the manâs hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.
âLet me go!â, he cries out in visible discomfort.
âThis is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.â
When he gifts you a sly grin, you canât help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men youâve met before. And the fact that he just called you ladyâŠWhy do your knees suddenly feel weak?
âNow repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.â
âI will not apologize to a girl whoâs dressed like a slut!â
A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this manâs mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.
âWrong answerâ, the white-haired man purrs.
âHey, would you mind just taking the trash out?â, the barkeeper questions.
âDid you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!â
âAre you alright? I didnât even notice he was harassing you. Iâm so sorryâ, the bartender speaks out towards you.
âOh, itâs okay.â
You arenât even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.
Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.
âHave a nice evening!â, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.
âYou definitely scared the shit out of himâ, you comment.
âHe definitely deserved it. Are you okay?â
âYeah, Iâm used to shit like thatâ, you reply with a huff.
âBut normally, they arenât this disgusting.â
âI hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didnât deserve his words.â
âNot as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.â
He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.
âHey, what about me escorting you back home? Iâm totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.â
âOnly if you let me join, thoughâ, you challenge him.
âDefinitely a deal. Hey, whatâs your name?â
â(y/n)â
â(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My nameâs Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.â
He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You canât help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.
âLetâs get you home, okay?â
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @maya-maya-56 @jinririz @getou0309 @ieathairs
Dividers by @saradika đ€
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#nanami fanfic#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#geto#yuji#itadori yuji#yuji itadori#itadori#jjk yuji#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#jjk getou#geto suguru#jjk geto
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(Open Rp) "How to Create a Perfect Man"
A Long time Ago In the Good Neighborhood, Saphira had been married to A Decent man name "Daniel Landus Rooster" For Seventeen years..Or So She thought..During the Seventeen years of marriage, Saphira Caught him Cheating On Her With her Neighbor Name Lydia and Lydia is too Married as wellâŠand Saphira Scolded Daniel So harshly..that she will threaten him to call his parents about this..Daniel Knew what His parents is Capable of, He Knew His parents "HATES" Cheating and all..So Daniel begged Saphira forgiveness and all..Saphira decided to Give him a Last chance..but one condition..He has to Wear a chasity belt as Punishment, She asked How long is he and lydia had been having an affair and then he said 3 Months..so she said to him as punishment, He has to wear a Chasity belt For 3 months and Daniel look defeated.. Lydia's Husband however began to dragged Lydia out and Made a huge Scolding and began to Divorce her clean out.. Three Months Has Passed and the chasity belt is off from daniel. On the Seventeenth Year, Saphira was ready to Have a Seventeen Year Anniversary Dinner set up..until She heard the Ruckus.. Then she went upstairs and began to take a look of whats going on And There Saphira Saw him and Her other Neighbor name "Claudia" is making love..Then She began to Slammed the door Open as the two in bed Froze in shock when they see Saphira with a Wrathful look on her face..and She said,
Saphira: "DANIEL! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE SMILING DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE!!!??"
Daniel:"Saph! I Can explain!! This Isn't what it looks like!"
Saph:" Oh I Know what it Looks like! It Looks like you and My Neighbor is Making beast with two backs on OUR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY!!!"
Daniel yelped as Claudia was trying to escape..but the Husband Came in and he said,
Husband: "CLAUDIA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MR. ROOSTER!!??"
Claudia: "Honey I can Explain!"
Husband: " Your making love with a Married man!! How could you do this!?"
Claudia: "Don't put this on me! Your the one who's sleeping around with other Women!"
Then saphira Cut in
Saph: " WHOA WHOA WHOA!! What!? Do you really tell me that The Neighbor hood Husbands cheats on wives, And Now Wives Cheats on husband! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO'S FAITHFUL HERE!!?"
Saphira was Hell raising Angry when her face turns red..and steaming coming out of her head clean..
Saphira:" Since When the Whole Neighborhood Became a FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD WHOREHOUSES!!!?? Turns to daniel Daniel! Is there Something I should Know about it? Hmm?!"
Daniel: looked defeated and ashamed "Yes..I've Slept with 55 Different women..plus claudia..including the 5 others before marriage."
Saph: eye widen and began to go into rage " YouâŠWHAT!??? How Could you do this to me!? Your telling me..that you've been sleeping around with 61 women this whole time!!??"
Then Daniel Nodded with shame and defeat, Then Saphira said Something that Everyone will be shocked
Saph: " THATS IT!! Daniel Landus Rooster! We Are getting a DIVORCE!! And I'm going to Sue Your 61 Whore of yours and I hope you Will Pay the Settlement Fee along With your 61 harlots!! You better be Lucky that we don't Have Kids..because I'm going to be Feeling guilty about this..and every child who is Born affair..WILL NEVER BE HAPPY! And Also Daniel..I'm Calling your parents and tell Them about this..and BoyâŠYou better be Prepare what Will happen When I'm Done with you!"
Daniel: " Oh god! Please Not my parents!! They'll Sent me Away to Gentleman School again! It's Like hell!"
Saph:" Well Thats Too Goddamn Bad! You Shouldn't Cheat on me in the first place, and Yet you did! with 61 Different women! Enough is Enough! I regret Giving you a last chance and I should've Divorce you when I got a Chance, So We're getting a Divorce and THATS FINAL! and I'm Selling this House and Move away from this.. Neighborhood of Infidelities! I will Not Live with anyone Who would became a Serial Cheater!"
After the Confrontation, Saphira Called His parents and Told Them everything. When They Heard Saphira about Daniel and all, they were So Livid that they head there and Made Daniel Sign the divorce Papers Which Daniel was so Stubborn to sign it until His Father Threaten him to Cut ties if he Didn't Sign itâŠSo Next day, She sued 61 different women for settlement fee..All of them paid her in Huge Lump sum and So does Daniel whom he's the Source of all the troubles.. After She Sell the House..She Moved away to a Nice Country Side where they Have a Nice Big Small town Full of good decent people.. But 4 years had passed, Saphira Felt a bit empty in Her heart but..She Blamed Herself For giving her "Ex" Husband a Second Chance, However this Doesn't Stop to find a Good decent man better than Daniel Rooster. Meanwhile at the Lab that Saphira made a great Buisness there..but There was a Slime Creature that was sealed up in the glass chamber and sees the Picture of Saphira as the Daughter of the CEO On the wall..it can't help but fell in love with her..but then Her father complain that She needs a man who would love her,,a man who is strong and kind and very Protective to her..and be there when she needed the mostâŠas the slime creature heard what he said, He had a plan to escape and that night..he Broke out and began to see the Absorbing elixir and then he drank up and began to hunt down a good strong men..and went to the small town..and found alot of good looking and strong men..as one by one..it absorbs them..and when it went behind her home..and suddenly..the skeleton hand emerge from the slime..and the rest of it..and the slime began to cover the skeleton and transforms into a One handsome Man that saphira's father wanted Saphira to haveâŠas He comes to the door..and knocks on it..as Saphira opens the door..and she said," hello?" Then he answeredâŠ
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isn't it messed up how i'm just dying to be him?
pairing: stanford!art donaldson x stanford!fem!reader
summary: and there it is. thereâs that glimmer of attention, that hint of acknowledgement of him. the heavy look of rage taking over your features, the bite in your tone, itâs what artâs wanted for months. your undivided attention.
âor: art tries to get through to you about patrick, it doesn't go how he thought it would.
word count: 6.2k (i'm so sorry lmao pls still read it's good i promise)
warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yâall!), switch!art a little bit, creampie, kinda hate sex but not really, more like angry sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, art is lowkey a little gay for patrick (it's literally canon), tiny bit of manipulative!art, art is just kinda an asshole in disguise honestly, hints of mean!reader cause i live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties, art being a bad bro, porn with too much plot, no use of y/n.
authors note: so this is basically a re-worked version of art and tashiâs dining hall scene when heâs trying to convince her that patrick isnât in love with her. itâs really similar just way more messy and angry and with sex. this is literally just a tiny thought i had that somehow spiraled just a little bit, but i needed some lowkey asshole!art in my life. i had so much fun writing this, like way too much fun lmao. title is a lyric from fall out boyâs "sugar, we're going down swinging" cause that song fucks so hard and it's soooo art coded. okay bye! mwah xoxo
psst! tftw series masterlist!
Art Donaldson is a patient guy. He's nice, understanding, empathetic. It's something he prides himself on, lots of guys on campus are pricks, but not him. He's "the sweet blonde guy that plays tennis, like, really well!" according to most people who've met him.
That being said, he's not blind to the fact that you frustrate him to the point of wanting to shout himself hoarse and rip his hair out.
It's been a while since he and Patrick met you for the first time at the Open, and Art has been through hell and back about a million times over by now.
He still so vividly remembers watching you step onto the court, the almost visceral reaction he had. The crowd was cheering and clapping nearly as loud as they were for Tashi. There were even a few signs made in support of you scattered throughout the stands. Big poster boards plastered with your name and your winning streak and pictures of you playing, tennis balls and rackets drawn from markers decorating them.
It was obvious you were a favorite, and it was more than obvious how much you lived for it.
Smiling and waving to the crowd, fully basking in their respect and adoration. You were nearly glowing, Art couldn't take his eyes off you. He could tell that Patrick was thinking the same thing, if the way his thigh tensed up where it was plastered against Arts was any hint, his breath slightly catching as you started stretching.
"Goddamn..." Patrick had muttered under his breath. Art could distantly see his hand clench on top of his thigh when you bent over to tighten your laces. He always tries to be less shameless than Patrick but heâd be lying if he said he wasnât just as affected by you, fighting the urge to shift in his seat.
After you and Tashi walked up to the net with matching smiles and shook hands for a little longer than usual, it was time to start. Art watched as both of you got in position on the opposite ends of the court. Both of your faces lost the easy-going, excited expressions youâd shared when you first walked out, hardening in concentration as Tashi got ready to serve.
Patrick and Art openly gawking at the two of you would have been embarrassing if it wasnât so fucking justified.
You and Tashi made magic happen on that court.Â
It was powerful hit after powerful hit. Tashiâs backhand was out of this world, your overhand was a monster. Every rally, every volley, every serve was pure perfection. Art had never seen tennis played like that before in his life, he couldn't help but get sucked into your world the longer he watched.
The match was close, completely neck-and-neck throughout each set, neither of you willing to give an inch to the other. Tashi won by a single point, hardly wasting any time before she vaulted over the net to come barreling into your open arms, crashing into you so hard it knocked the two of you to the ground.
You both grasped at each other like lifelines on the hard concrete of the court as the announcer crowned Tashi the 2006 girlâs U.S Open champion.
Art let out a long breath and deflated a little deeper in his seat. His mind racing, he didnât need to look at Patrick to know he felt the same. They sat in silence like that until the stands were practically empty.Â
âWhat time did you say the party was again?â
Art pointedly ignored Patrick staring at him with a shit-eating grin on his face, stretching his arms out in feigned nonchalance. Patrick just snorted, shaking his head and squeezing Artâs thigh.
That was then, now Art sits across from you in the Stanford dining hall at the same table you two eat lunch at everyday, trying to stay cool as you complain about the latest biology lab youâre doing.Â
Heâs hardly listening to you, too busy trying his best to not glare too obviously at the hoodie you're wearing. One that he knows for a fact belongs to Patrick. You must have kept it the last time he was in town. The Nike swoosh embroidered to the front almost mocks him. Art puts his water down with a little more force than necessary.
Patrick and you beingâŠwhatever the two of you are now was something he tried his best to be okay with in the beginning.
Patrickâs his best guy, Art should have been so stoked that you were into him as much as he was into you when the two of them walked up to congratulate you and Tashi at the Adidas party. Only being able to steal you away from the house after you said your goodbyes to Tashi and her parents, inviting you to join them down at the beach.
It was obvious you were playing into Patrickâs attempts to get in your pants. Not blushing or averting your eyes shyly when he blatantly checked you out, throwing out smart comebacks to his sleazy lines, looking up at him through your lashes and biting your lip.
It would have been soul-crushing if Art wasnât such a good friend. So, he stifled the rising feelings of jealousy and plastered a smile on his face as he watched Patrick shamelessly flirt with you.
It wasnât like it was your fault. Art didnât come on as strong as Patrick, he never did. Plus it wasnât like he and Patrick had talked about who could try and score with you prior to the party, anything was fair game.
Besides, you were nice enough to Art that night. Chatting about college admissions and smiling at him over your coke bottle. Sure, it stung seeing you laugh at Patrickâs stupid jokes while the two of you smoked off the same cigarette, but there was nothing he could do about it.
You choosing Patrick had nothing to do with him. Everyone always chose Patrick, he was used to it by now.
At least he thought he was, but the longer it was just you and him, the more angry he felt each time Patrick would visit and steal all your attention. It wasnât just jealousy or frustration anymore; it was a gnawing, consuming rage that twisted his insides every time he saw you light up around Patrick.
Patrick didn't fucking deserve you. You were too good for him. Nothing like all the easy, ditsy girls he fucked his way through at the academy. You were special, unlike any girl Artâs ever met. Patrick would just take you for granted. He'd grow tired of you, completely dismissing you when he got bored enough. Any day now he'd call Art to spill on his latest hookup with some chick he met on tour.Â
But Art didnât want to sit around and wait for that day to come. He couldnât stand the thought of you being hurt by Patrickâs inevitable indifference. The idea of you, heartbroken and discarded, made his blood boil. You deserve more than that. You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are, not just a trophy.Â
Art knows he could be that person for you if youâd give him a chance, if for once youâd look at him instead of Patrick. He just has to find a way to get you to understand that.
âPat texted me this morning,â you say from across the table, boredly poking at your pasta. âHeâs gonna be here later this week, says he wants to go see 30 Days of Night. You and Tashi should come with us.â
Art hums noncommittally, not looking at you as he takes another bite of his salad. You do this a lotâ extend invites to Art and Tashi when you and Patrick go out.
Art knows you think youâre being nice by trying to make them feel included, but getting invited usually means having to watch Patrick touch you and kiss you and walk around with his hand in your back pocket.
Artâs fork stabs into his salad roughly. He takes a slow breath, trying to calm the emotions starting to swirl inside him. âYeah, sure,â he says eventually, forcing a smile. âSounds fun.â
He sneaks a look at you from under his lashes. Youâre already looking at him, brow raised at his clipped tone. âYou donât have to come if you donât want to.â
Art shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively. âNo, no, itâs fine. Iâll be there.â
âOkay,â you say slowly, still watching him with a hint of skepticism. âAre you alright? Youâve been weird all day.â
Art lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more sour than sweet, and finally looks up at you. You look back expectantly, concern lingering in your eyes. âNothing, itâs justâŠâ he pauses, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table, âthe fact that you two are still going out surprises me. Thatâs all.â
He regrets it as soon as he says it, words sounding way more patronizing than he wanted. His chest immediately tightens with guilt, but he doesnât wince or shrink back like he normally would, just keeps his eyes on you.
Your brows furrow, a tiny frown pulling at the corners of your lips. âWhat?â you ask, fork stilling in your hand. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
Art just sighs, putting his fork down and leaning towards you. âI know Patrick better than you do,â he says with a tiny shrug, âheâs always had a hard time withâŠcommitment.â He says slowly, searching for the right word.
You donât say anything for a couple seconds, eyes scanning over his face slowly like you're examining him. Art forces himself to not start squirming under your intense, studying gaze.
You donât seem to like what you find, eyes narrowing as you push your tray away from you and lean back in your seat. âAre you seriously shit talking your own best friend right now?â
Artâs brow raises, that wasnât the reaction he was expecting, at all. His jaw ticks in annoyance, his hand balling into a fist on the tabletop.
âIâm not trying to shit talk him,â he says calmly, voice tinged with frustration. âIâve just seen how things go with him. Iâm looking out for you.â
Your eyes harden, disbelief mingling with irritation. âSo, what? You think you know whatâs best for me or something? Are you my keeper now?â
That pisses Art off, now youâre just being an asshole. His brows furrow, arms crossing in front of his chest defensively. âThatâs not what I meant and you know it.â He says, tone harder than before.
You scoff, anger spilling over your face. âWell what the fuck do you mean then, Art? Because you dancing around whatever it is you obviously want to say is really starting to piss me off.â
Irritation flares in Artâs chest, piercing and sudden. He swallows it down, breathing out his nose slowly to try and calm himself. The air between the two of you is tense now.
Youâre loud enough that a few people sitting at tables nearby start to quiet down, discreetly trying to listen in.
âPatrick doesnât love you.â Art says spitefully, his fingers grip the muscle of his arms tighter. Itâs childish, but he doesn't care.
Your eyes widen, clearly caught off guard. You recover quickly, letting out a disbelieving laugh as you push away from the table with a harsh scrape of your chair. "Excuse me?" Your voice cuts through the air, sharp and incredulous. Â
He stays silent, letting the weight of his words hang heavy in the air. Your eyes narrow, searching his face for any sign of retreat, but Art meets your gaze head-on, jaw set stubbornly.
You stand with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare down at him. âWhy are you telling me this? Why do you care if Patrick loves me or not?â
Why do you care? The question makes his heart drop down to his stomach. Dread mixes with the anger in his chest. This wasnât how this was supposed to go, he doesnât want to make a scene in the middle of the dining hall. Youâre just being so difficult.
Youâre jumping to defend Patrick, not even trying to hear him out, just like you always do. Still refusing to give Art the attention he deserves. Itâs fucking infuriating.
âIâm just saying,â he says, voice distant and cold, âhe hasnât been in love with you for a while. Heâs told me.âÂ
Itâs a lie, heâs hardly spoken to Patrick recently, but heâs in this now. He may as well go for broke, he always plays to win after all.Â
Your face contorts grimly, another disbelieving laugh punches itâs way out your chest. You donât seem to notice the amount of heads turned in your direction, or maybe you just donât care. âOh, heâs told you that has he?â you parrot back mockingly, head cocked to the side as you stare daggers at him, âThatâs fucking bullshit Art!â
Art clenches his fists, jaw flexing in anger. Heâs never seen you this mad before, never expected to be the cause of it. But at the same time heâs fucking angry too. Angry at you. Angry at Patrick. Angry at himself.
His eyes narrow, holding your own heated gaze without backing down because if there's one thing he hates most, it's losing. âYou donât get it do you?â He mutters quietly, shaking his head in dismay.Â
Your jaw tightens, eyes blazing as you lean forward, bracing your hands on the table to get up in his face. He can smell the familiar fruity sweetness of your perfume.
âWhatâs there to get? The only thing Iâm getting right now, is a front row seat to you being a vindictive little prick.â You bite out, breath fanning over Artâs face. âWho even said I wanted Patrick to be in love with me? Who said I gave a fuck about any of that?â You question sternly, brows furrowed as you scowl at him.
Art scoffs loudly, his face twisting in disgust as he rolls his eyes. His blood boils at having to sit here while you bitch him out. He wants to strangle you, to take you by your shoulders and shake you so that youâll listen.
To make you see what he sees. To make you love him. âPlease,â he hisses through gritted teeth, shifting so heâs leaning across the table just as you are, his eyes dark. âEveryone wants Patrick to love them. Everyone wants his attention. You want it.â
You just blink at him, taken aback by his outburst. You stare at him, not budging as your eyes scan over his face for a second time. And there it is. Thereâs that glimmer of attention, that hint of acknowledgement of him.
The heavy look of rage taking over your features, the bite in your tone, itâs what Artâs wanted for months. Your undivided attention.
After a few tense seconds you just laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. âYou might be the worst fucking friend in the world.â You say simply, like you're reading off this week's forecast.
Maybe he is.
Art can feel the heat rising to his cheeks in anger, in embarrassment, in hatred, in lust. The way youâre looking at him makes something stir deep in his gut. His heartbeat echoes in his ears.
Youâre so mad, but in that youâre giving him a hint of your attention, giving him the time of day, and youâre still fucking defending Patrick. Rage seethes in him, hot like fire. Yet even in this moment, youâre the only person that really matters. The intensity of your gaze pulls at something raw inside him.
âHe doesnât deserve you.â His voice is lower, pinched with thinly veiled frustration threatening to boil over.
"And you think you're the expert on what I deserve, Art? Last time I checked, your own love lifeâs track record isn't exactly stellar."
Itâs a low blow, bringing up how Tashi rejected him a while back. He hadnât told you about that, so Tashi must have. He laughs, but his lips are pulled up in a sneer.
"Donât start deflecting,â Your name falls from his lips sharply, stabbing through the thick tension in the air. âThis isn't about me, it's about you. You're setting yourself up to get hurt, and I'm just trying to warn youâ"
"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for your fucking opinion," you snap, "maybe you should focus on your own damn problems.â
Artâs jaw tightens further, his frustration finally getting the best of him. "Fine, do whatever the hell you want. But don't come crying to me when Patrick does what he always doesâ leaves you for someone new."
You stare at him incredulously, shock and anger warring in your expression. "I can't believe you just said that."
"Yeah, well," Art mutters bitterly, looking away. "Believe whatever you want. Just know that heâs playing with your feelings.â
You huff, throwing your arms out at your sides in frustration. âWhat fucking feelings Art!â you say loudly, not quite shouting but youâre getting there. âSure, Patrick and I fuck but that doesnât mean weâre playing husband and wife with each other!âÂ
Youâre definitely way too loud, voice steadily rising in volume the more you talk. Seemingly not caring about whoâs around to hear you yell about fucking Patrick. âIn fact,â you continue, shaking an accusatory finger at Art, âyouâre the one trying to get in my head and play with my feelings, you fucking hypocrite.â
His mind whites out, filled with blinding jealousy all over again. He wants you so fucking badly, he could be everything you needed. Why canât you see that? How could you be so blind? How could you not see that Patrick was using you, just like he used everyone else?
Art leans further across the table as you speak, his hands coming up to grip the edges of it tightly. âYouâre so fucking naive, you know that?â He snaps in a biting tone. Itâs harsher than heâs spoken to you during this whole fight.
Your voice drips with sarcasm as you lean forward, eyes locked on his. "Oh, well forgive me for not seeing the truth according to Saint Art."
âSo fucking naive.â He repeats, spitting the words across the table meanly.
âAnd youâre a fucking pussy.â You bite back, leaning in even closer so Art can see your lips form around the words maliciously. You sway close enough that the tip of your nose bumps against his. His breath catches, going ragged in his throat. Youâre so close to him. He can smell you, can practically taste you on his tongue.
He wants to take you in his arms, to hold you and kiss the anger off your face. The only thing keeping him from lunging out is the way you look. Your whole body is rigid with anger, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. Youâre so beautiful. He has to remind himself that heâs supposed to be pissed at you and fight the urge to pull you in and really taste you.
But then you're backing away completely, âI wonât waste my time on stupid shit like this,â you mutter, turning to pick your bag up off the floor. âThanks for lunch, Art.â You say sarcastically, not even looking at him as you turn on your heel and walk towards the dining hallâs exit before he can respond.
Artâs heart lurches forward at your words, not with pain, but with want. He watches you leave, the regret quickly setting in once youâre not here to play into his resentment. It hits him like a cold shiver, he wants to feel good for speaking his mind, for telling you how it is. Maybe on some level he does, but itâs overshadowed by how awful he feels.
Art stares down at his unfinished salad, appetite gone. He sighs loudly, standing up to toss his own tray plus the one you left behind. He tries his best to ignore the stares he can feel following him as he walks out.
ᯀ
Art wallows in misery for the rest of the day, skipping the practice he had planned after lunch. He just locks himself in his dorm, laying on his mattress and staring at the ceiling as he replays the fight in his mind. Replaying every word you said to him, every word he said back to you, every angry look you gave him.Â
He thinks about texting you a thousand times. Typing and deleting different messages until he eventually gave up. He knows youâre beyond pissed, that him reaching out will only piss you off more and he wants to try and salvage this before you completely shut him out. The thought of losing you is why he never wanted to bring it up in the first place, regret settles in his gut like a ball of lead.
And yet, there was a small part of him that hoped, despite the shit show in the dining hall, that youâd see the quiet care he showed, the way he was there for you, and choose him for once. But hope was a dangerous thing, and Art wasnât sure how much longer he could hold out.
Hours go by with nothing from you, itâs the longest youâve gone with talking since the semester started. He forced himself to study for his biology final in a lazy attempt at taking his mind off you. Youâd usually be in his dorm room right now, all spread out on his bed like itâs your own as you talk his ear off about something like your asshole psychology professor.Â
The longer he sits at his desk the longer the ache in his chest consumes him. Art would do anything to know what you were thinking right now. Heâd grovel for your attention, heâd fall to his knees and beg and plead if thatâs what it took for you to forgive him.Â
Heâs getting ready for bed when his Blackberry pings on his night stand, itâs almost embarrassing how fast he rushes over to it. His heart stutters in his chest when he sees it's a text from you. Itâs only two words, a simple âcome overâ.Â
Artâs never moved faster in his life, rushing out of his room with only his phone, wallet, and keys.Â
He makes it to your dorm in record time, nearly sprinting across campus to hurry up and get there before you change your mind. All that needy rushing completely vanishes once heâs actually outside your door.Â
Art hesitates, staring at the little door decals taped on with your name written on them in black sharpie. He rests his ear against the door, but he canât hear anything. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched as he wrestles with himself.
âCâmon Donaldson, donât be such a little bitch.â Patrickâs voice rings out in the back of his mind. He takes a breath and knocks on the door.
Barely a second passes before itâs swinging open and you're there, gripping the front of his shirt and dragging him inside your room. Art's back hits the closing door with a thud, his breath catching in surprise. His hands shoot out to brace on either side of the door, knocking over a racket resting on the wall. Everything he brought with him falling to clatter onto the wood floor loudly.
You look rough, eyes slightly red and puffy like you may have been crying. Your breath comes out in short, quick bursts as you stare up at him. All the anger he swore would come rushing back when he saw you drains out of him in a second.
His face softens, a tiny frown on his lips. "Hey, whatâs going on?" he asks, voice a mix of confusion and worry. His hands come up to hover near your hips, hesitating at the last second, not sure if he should touch you.
Without a word, youâre flying forward while yanking him down by his shirt. Closing the distance between the two of you with your lips crashing against Artâs. Itâs so sudden, so completely out of left field, that Art stumbles forward a few steps, hands gripping your hips tightly to steady himself.
Itâs almost pathetic how easily he kisses back, not even hesitating. Flashes of Patrickâs face go through his mind as he eagerly reciprocates, not stopping him from pulling your hips flush against his. He definitely might be the worst friend in the world, all the loyalty he felt to Patrick tossed out of his mind the second your tongue slides past his lips.
Itâs intense, thereâs no romance or gentleness about it. Your lips move against his almost violently, all the aggression and anger from earlier still very much there. Heâs never kissed a girl like this before, itâs not how he imagined his first kiss with you would go. Heâs still getting hard in his sweats anyway.
Your tongue fucks into his mouth roughly, it reminds him of the time he and Patrick kissed when they were still at the academy for âpracticeâ. He moans loudly into your mouth, letting you dominate the kiss and just trying his best to keep up. Your teeth clack against his roughly, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to have him whining embarrassingly high and needy. Â
âItâs over with Patrick,â you breathe hotly, slick lips brushing his with every word. âI want you to fuck me.â
Jesus fucking Christ.
Artâs dick feels hard enough to burst out of his sweats by sheer force, but he pauses, pulling away from you with a hesitant look. "I-" he tries, voice cracking slightly. He can feel his cheeks starting to burn as he clears his throat. "I don't think that's a good idea. It's so soon, and I mean you're obviously going through something and I don't want to take advantage of yo-"
An incredulous laugh bursting from your lips effectively cuts Art off, your eyes roll to the ceiling in dry amusement. âGod, Art.â you scoff, both hands pushing off his chest to create space between the two of you. He keeps his hands on your hips, the thin material of your bottoms bunching in his grip. âYouâre such a fucking little bitch, you can kiss me but you wonât fuck me? What is it? You scared of Patrick or something?â
The taunt hits Art like a slap across the face, he freezes for a second before disbelief gives way to white hot rage. You just stare up at him smugly, lips red and wet. Art bares his teeth, using his strong hold on your hips to force you backwards until your knees hit the edge of your bed.
âYouâve pushed me and pushed me and pushed me,â he spits, glaring down at you as he speaks. âActing like such a fucking brat. You want me to fuck you?â He pushes you back onto the bed roughly, covering your body with his, letting his weight sink you deeper into the mattress. âFine, Iâll fuck you.â
Art sits up, ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind his shoulder. Your greedy eyes rake down the toned muscle of his torso, hands coming up to lightly scratch your nails over his abs. His breath hitches, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. He grabs your wrists, forcing them down and pinning them to the bed. âNo touching.â he chastises, leaning down to bite the skin of your neck roughly. Sucking hard enough that heâll definitely leave a mark.Â
His dick twitches against the inside of his sweats at the thought of you walking around campus with his claim staked on you, at the thought of Patrick, if he was still coming down, seeing it and immediately knowing who left it there. He slides his knee between your legs, he can feel the warmth radiating from your pussy, can feel how youâre so wet itâs soaking through your bottoms and onto his thigh.Â
You hiss at the sting of his teeth, trying to squeeze your wrists out of his strong grip. Your thighs tighten around his knee, hips bucking up against him. âAre you gonna fuck me anytime soon, Art? Or do I need to find someone else thatâs not all talk?â
Art chuckles darkly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbones. âYou can bitch and moan all you want, but I havenât even touched you yetââ he leans forward to whisper directly into your ear, ââAnd youâre still fucking soaked for me anyway.â He drags his tongue along the shell of your ear in a dirty stripe.Â
You let out a keen, pretty and high, grinding your hungry pussy against his knee faster. He lets go of your hands, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. Tossing you around like itâs nothing, just manhandling you.
âGod,â he groans, big hands coming up to knead the meat of your ass, spreading it lewdly making you moan softly. âYouâre so fucking hot.â He whispers, words falling from his lips like he couldnât hold them in any longer.
Art keeps one hand tight on your hip, the other fumbling with the drawstring of his sweats so he can push them down to finally free his aching dick. Letting it spring out to slap up onto his bare stomach, trailing a thin line of pre-come across his abs.Â
You squirm under him, feet kicking out as you struggle in his hold. Your head craning over your shoulder and zeroing in on his dick, hard and red and leaking. âYou came over here with no panties on, Donaldson?â you taunt, pushing your ass back onto the sensitive length of his erection. âHow sluttyââÂ
âShut up,â he snaps harshly, but his dick twitches where itâs dragging over the seam of your ass. Heâs leaking like a faucet, leaking like a girl, all over your light green plaid bottoms. It strikes him suddenly, how familiar they look. He stares at the worn down fabric covering your ass, at the way his pre-come stains the material darker, at the way they hang too low on your hips, too big for you.Â
âAre theseâŠare these Patrick's,â he asks slowly, voice low as his fingers skim over the soft material. You chuckle wickedly, wiggling your hips back teasingly.Â
âYeah, they are,â you say, sliding your ass back and forth over Artâs dick. âYouâre leaking jizz all over your best friend's pants, Art.â
Art groans loudly, chin dropping to his chest as hips jerk against your ass involuntarily. A full body shiver wracks through him like lightning, eyes screwing shut as he tries not to come all over your ass. âShitââ he bites out sharply, voice rough and scratchy. He can distantly hear you laughing at him through all the white noise buzzing in his ears.
He breathes out through his nose, willing himself to calm down. He needs to be in control for once, needs to teach you a lesson for ignoring him for so long.
Artâs hands come up to the waistband of yourâ Patrick'sâ pants, fingers digging underneath the loose material and forcefully yanking it down along with your panties, only pulling them down to your mid-thigh. You yelp in surprise, hands gripping the sheets of your bed tightly.Â
âI need to get inside you, right fucking now.â he rumbles thickly, flipping you onto your back again. He needs to see your face when he fucks you for the first time, needs to burn it into his mind forever.
âFuck yes,â you reply eagerly, arms coming up to circle around his shoulders. âFinally.â
Art doesn't reply, eyes fixed on your bare pussy, so fucking wet and shining underneath the shitty ceiling light of your dorm. His mouth waters, he wants to drop to his stomach and eat you out until you're shaking and squirting all over his face. His dick drools at the thought, but heâll have to wait. He needs to fuck you.
He takes his dick in his hand, dragging it through the silky skin of your soaked folds. He spreads your wetness around your clit, rubbing the leaking tip over you back and forth teasingly. You whine, thighs starting to shake on either side of him. He drags his dick back down to your clenching hole, lining up and slowly sinking inside the tight, wet heat.
Art doesnât give you any time to adjust to the thick head of his dick breaching your tight hole, burying himself to the hilt inside of you with a sharp thrust.Â
âFuck!â you cry out, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his hips, digging your heels into his lower back. âShit, fuck youâreâ God, you're so fucking deep.â
âIâm going to use your fucking pussy however I want,â Your name falls from his lips, dirty and blistering. âbecause itâs the least I deserve for putting up with your bullshit for so fucking long, and youâre going to be good and lay there and take it.â He drives his point home with a mean thrust of his hips.
âFuck you, Art.â you mutter back, trying to keep up the bratty act even though your voice is going breathless and needy.
Art doesnât ease into it, pulling back only to start pounding into your pussy ruthlessly. Sharp slaps of his hips stinging your ass each time he drives back in, your eyes roll back in your head, slack lips parted in pleasure as he fucks you.Â
Art canât help but lean down to claim your mouth, kissing you a little too sweetly for the moment. He canât help it, not when youâre under him making the sweetest noises, letting him fuck your perfect fucking pussy like he owns it. God.
âFuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,â Art growls, breaking the kiss to rest his sweaty forehead against yours. âYouâre so fucking, tight. Feels so fuckingâ shit, so fucking good.â His hips speed up, desperately rutting into you.
âArt,â you whine, nails scratching down his back hard. âIâm so close, fuck Iâm so closeâ keep going, donât stop, donât stop, donât stopââ
He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, groaning at the way his name sounds getting fucked out of your mouth. The loud squelch your pussy makes each time he buries himself back inside has his ears burning, he can feel you soaking the skin of his thighs with every thrust.
âWanna feel your tight pussy milk me dry,â he grinds out through gritted teeth, picking up his pace. âFuck, Iâm gonna come, Iâm gonna fucking come.â He ruts into you harder, splitting you open with every thrust. The skin of your ass turning red and raw from how hard heâs giving it to you.Â
Your hands come up to bury themselves in his hair, tugging sharply to make him look at you. âInside,â you pant, eyes glazed over and wild, âcome inside me Art, please. Iâm on the pill you can, you can come inside me.â Your legs tighten their hold on his hips, ankles locking snugly over his lower back so he couldnât even pull out if he wanted.
âFuck!â Art shouts your name hoarsely, hips stuttering as he unloads in you. Hot come spraying the walls of your pussy. You let out a broken moan, your whole body shaking as you come with him. Your pussy chokes his dick so tightly, gripping him like a vice, milking him.
Art tilts his head up, catching your lips with his to greedily swallow down all your moans. He keeps going, shallow thrusts of his hips working you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until youâre kicking at his back, whining at him to stop. He collapses on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to the fabric of your shirt.Â
Itâs quiet for a while, the two of you silently trying to catch your breath. Your hands come up to his head, sliding into the messy strands of his hair. âItâs pretty late now,â you say slowly, nails scratching against his scalp softly. âYou couldâŠyou could stay here if you want.â
Art hides the wide grin breaking out on his face in your chest, arms coming up to circle around your waist. âYeah, that sounds good.â He whispers back, squeezing the soft skin of your hips once.
Itâs only later, when youâve fallen asleep on his chest, that he stares up at the ceiling lost in thought. Heâs too worked up to sleep, so fucking thrilled that it worked. His plan actually worked. Youâre his now. He looks down at you, glowing softly in the moonlight filtering through your window, deep hickeys scattered across your neck. He drags his fingers along your cheekbone, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
This is what heâs wanted for so long, you.
You asleep in bed with him, you curled up in his arms, you with his come steadily dripping out of your swollen pussy.
Art can hear his Blackberry start buzzing on your nightstand, lighting up with an incoming call. Even from far away he can read the name displayed on the screen. Patrick. He lets it ring.
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#â đŻđąđ”đąđđȘđą đžđłđȘđ”đŠđŽ âĄ#like we need more manipulative art content#his ass was a little snake#i love messy hoes#the other art fic is still being cooked#itâs just taking me a little longer than i thought it would đ#iâm just really bad at keeping focus on a single work#i have so many unfinished ideas#in my notes app#anyways bye#love you!#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers smut#challengers fanfic#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson smut
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Chapter 2: Confessions for You
My Rival Series
Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
Chapter Summary: Y/n already is losing herself to her studies as competition looms closer and closer.
A/n: Gif credits to @elizabetholsens
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Puking, Memory Loss? (ish)
Word Count: 5.1k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Last Month - Spring Semester
âI fucking hate losing to her.â Y/nâs fists were tightly clenched as she saw Wanda celebrate another perfect score. The glimmer in her eyes almost made Y/nâs vein burst from anger. The competition was in three weeks and the last day of school was in four weeks.Â
It's been almost a month since she spoke to Dean Holloway about her scholarship. Since then, Y/nâs mental health has extremely deteriorated. The lack of sleep and the inability to eat was catching up to the bright student.Â
She was making more mistakes in math club, simple ones that even the freshman could do with their eyes closed. Her confidence has gotten lower and lower the more she was unable to perfect her craft.Â
And as Y/n stared at the ninety nine written on her test, all emotion was devoid from her. She was tired. Something that Wanda had noticed. The brunette had kept up on her usual appearances around Y/n. She taunted Y/n slightly over scores, grinned at every question she got right at math club, and overall proved to everyone why she was number one.Â
But that wasnât to say that the brunette didnât notice all the changes happening to Y/n. If anything, Wanda was the first to notice all the changes. She noticed the appearance of deeper eyes bags, the short temper Y/n had over small mistakes, and even worse, the lack of focus Y/n had during lectures.Â
There were other changes too like the way Y/n no longer engaged at all to Wandaâs banter. Instead, she would walk away, fists clenched, as if Y/n was holding herself back. Or the times that Wanda no longer spotted Y/n with her friends at all. It was like she was distancing herself from everyone she knew.Â
While Wanda tried her best to look out for Y/n, all her kindness turned bitter when she thought of that meeting.Â
Sitting across from each other, the two were finishing their project, looking over the final draft before submitting it. Wanda was looking over Y/nâs part of the essay when she came across a large paragraph that contained a lot of circular reasoning and hardly any sources.Â
Wanda circled it and leaned forward to show Y/n. âHey, you made a mist-,â Y/n snatched the paper, already rereading the paragraph at lightening speed. Her shoulders were tense as she squinted her eyes to read the paper better.Â
âYou didnât explain your side well enough. I see what youâre trying to say but you end up using circular reasoning to back up your point rather the the sources weâve gathered.âÂ
Feeling already embarrassed enough from math club, Y/n had enough. She got up, causing the chair to make a horrible screeching noise. Wanda grimaced at the sound as she noticed Y/n packing up.Â
âWhere are you-â
âFuck off, Maximoff. I donât need your input.â Wanda was caught off guard at Y/nâs hostility, but the smart girl had a sharp tongue and there was no way in hell she was going to allow Y/n to talk to her like that.Â
âClearly you do when youâre making basic mistakes like that.â Y/n scoffed as she stuffed her backup.Â
âAlways quick to call out someoneâs mistakes. Would love for the day someone laughs at yours.â Wanda got up, her chair making the same awful sound.Â
âWhy are you being so rude? We are doing a peer review. What did you expect? That I let you mess up my grade.â Y/n rolled her eyes as she swung her backup over her shoulder. The zipper was barely over the arch, the swing almost causing her backup to open up. Y/n grabbed the remainder of her stuff and held it.
âYouâre the last person I would ever call my peer. Do what you have to Maximoff but Iâm fucking done here.â Y/n left without another word.
Wanda stood at her spot, offended at the fact that Y/n even snapped at her. What was worse, she genuinely felt hurt by Y/nâs tone. Y/n had never spoken to her like that, not in the three years theyâve known each other.Â
So as she grabbed her stuff, her paper being last, Wanda didnât notice the lack of marks on her paragraphs. All she noticed was the painful feeling in her heart left by Y/n.
âOkay everyone, let's please settle down so we can talk about the format for this upcoming state competition.â Up at the front of the lecture hall stood Y/n and Wanda. Naturally they stood a couple of feet apart as Wanda took the lead of the meeting.Â
âThis year we have the amazing honor of bringing in three teams to represent Evergreen University. Fortunately for us, Dean Holloway was able to get the approval to send in another team this year.â There were several claps coming from the students as Y/n somberly looked at the floor.Â
âHe just wants to increase the odds of me losing.â Y/n thought. Noticing that Y/n was not paying attention, Wanda shook her head and continued with the announcement.Â
âAs tradition has it, we will hold a bracket competition for those that would like to compete. Each team will have four slots to fill. Naturally as your co-captains for the club, we will only have 10 slots available for those that want to participate.âÂ
Wanda walked over to Y/n, giving her a slight pat on the back as she walked past her. âYour co-captain will list off how the competition will go.âÂ
Y/n cleared her throat, regaining her focus as she addressed the crowd. âIn order to better assess senior and new member abilities, we will be holding a kahoot style competition as this will best mirror the real competition.â
Walking away from Wanda, âIn order to avoid embarrassment of who did or did not get the answer correctly, we will be using the clickers that the University has provided our club. On the sign up sheet, I will write down your name beside the clicker number. The top ten members will receive a place for the competition. However, the members that place 11th through 13th will constitute as our substitutes in the case of anything happening to our members.âÂ
Y/n sat over to the desk of clickers, ready to write. âFor those that are not wanting to participate but would like to see who has made it to our team, you are more than welcomed to stay as the questions on the screen will provide great practice. You may start lining up now for your clickers.â Wanda ended her speech with a gratuitous smile.Â
A long line of students started to form as Y/n wrote each name down. Coincidentally enough, the first two clickers were reserved for Wanda and Y/n. Unbeknownst to Y/n, she wrote Wandaâs name at first and her name being second. Even her subconscious knew the truth.Â
So as Wanda got the questions ready, Y/n sat at the table, away from everyone, hoping that her extreme hours spent studying were going to be worth it. Y/n looked at Wanda who sat with some of her friends in the club. There was still that stupid smile on her face.Â
âEat dirt.â Was all Y/n thought as the first question popped up on the screen.Â
âWait - youâre unable to pick me up when spring semester ends? Why?â Y/n sighed, still feeling the bitterness from math club as she sat under a tree that observed the Hodgekins Math building.Â
âIâm sorry honey - your father and I are going to attend an important meeting for his company in Europe. Unfortunately, we were unable to reschedule it as your fatherâs clients were only able during that time to discuss the merge factors. I do hope you understand.âÂ
Y/nâs eyes teared up, feeling lower than ever before as she spotted Wanda finally leaving the building, the brunetteâs words still in her mind.Â
âHow are you expected to lead when you canât even get in the top ten?â Wanda whispered as she smiled at the students who made the team. âIf you canât even score top five, how can I trust you? Get your head back or Iâm going to have to get someone else to fill your spot.âÂ
âCan you at least send Percy to help me out?â Y/n wiped her tears before they got a chance to fall. The weight of everything was crushing her down and it felt like no one even noticed.Â
âOf course. Heâll be there to help you. How is school going by the way? Are you having fun? Your grades still okay?â Y/n leaned back on the tree, making sure no one was nearby.Â
âIt's beenâŠokay. My state competition is less than a month away and Iâve been trying my best to study a lot for it.â Y/n bit her cheek, the feeling of losing gripped her heart. âBut other than that, my grades are still good.âÂ
Y/n couldnât see it, but her Mom was smiling on the other end of the phone. âIs that girl - whatâs her name - oh yeah, Wanda, still there?â Y/n froze at the mention of the brunette, even worse, Wanda was oddly walking in her direction.
âMom - I really donât want to talk about her.â Itâs like no matter what, Wanda somehow managed to pop up everywhere in her life.Â
âWell, it has been a while since youâve talked about her. I was starting to think she was no longer around.â Y/n knew when her Mom was acting oblivious and this happened to be one of those moments.Â
âMom-â
âYou know if you canât stand it just come back home. Your father is more than happy to help you get enrolled into-â
âMom - Iâm not going to Langford University. Dad can keep wishing but I will stay at Evergreen University.â The topic of Langford and her father was always a strain. While Y/nâs father was an alright man and honestly a great father, his vision for Y/nâs future never aligned for what his daughter wanted.Â
Ever since she got accepted to Evergreen University, their relationship grew complicated. He even stopped calling after Thanksgiving break of her first semester in college. While Y/n did have a better relationship with her mother, it was still complicated nonetheless.Â
âLook, I have to go. Iâll talk to you later Mom. Bye - love you.â Y/n hung up before her mother said anything back. The brunette thatâs been in her mind stood right in front of her with a blank look on her face.Â
âWhat do you want?â Wanda rolled her eyes at Y/nâs hostility. She hadnât even said a word and sheâs already managed to piss Y/n off. Had it been earlier in the year, Wanda would have enjoyed just how quick she could get under Y/nâs nerves. But now, Wanda couldnât stand Y/n either.Â
Taking a deep breath, Wanda calmed her anger and said, âHave you thought about what I said?âÂ
Standing up, Y/n wiped any possible dirt from her pants and glared at Wanda. âDonât even think about replacing me. Iâll be at the competition and Iâll make sure that my group wins it all.âÂ
âYou better be on your A-game at our next practice. If not, Iâm pulling you.â Y/nâs jaw clenched at Wandaâs threat. Who was she to call the shots? They were co-captains after all.Â
âDonât worry your pretty head about me, Maximoff. Iâll be on my best behavior.â
âI need to focus.â It was a weeknight. As usual, Y/n was using this time to study for math club. Wanda had sent out a new packet for the competitors to use as practice for the real competition.Â
For a majority of the questions, she had gotten ninety seven out of the hundred correct. But Y/n was on the brink of losing it all. She knew that any wrong answer would immediately lead to a Maximoff victory and that was the last thing she wanted.Â
âI need to be perfect.â Erasing her calculations, Y/n redid it but still wasnât able to match to the correct answer. Tightening the grip on her pencil, Y/n tried to not let this get to the best of her. But the constant sound of Natasha practicing her guitar started to aggravate her.Â
In addition small music was already playing in the background, something Natasha was trying to play along with. So when Y/n redid her calculations once more and still got the wrong answer, she could feel her anger start to resurface. Still, she maintained her best composure and erased the wrong answer. \
Retrying for the third time, Y/n was close to reaching the correct answer when her pencil tip broke. âJust bad timing. Thatâs all. Get a new pencil and move on.â She spoke internally. But the rational thoughts mixing with her anger were not a good combo.Â
Was she hallucinating or was Natashaâs music suddenly getting louder? Ignoring it, Y/n grabbed a new pencil when the sound of a new email alerted her attention to her laptop. Going to Outlook, Y/n looked at the new email, its subject already signaling alarms in her head.Â
Dean HollowayÂ
New Scholarship RequirementsÂ
Feeling all sorts of anger and embarrassment, Y/n broke her pencil and slammed her computer shut. Standing up quickly, Y/n looked at Natasha, and without thinking, said, âCan you please cut that shit off?âÂ
Y/n was already fuming with anger, not caring if she pissed her best friend at all. At first, Natasha looked shocked at Y/nâs outburst, quickly turning the music off. But the realization of Y/nâs tone offended Natasha.Â
âWhatâs up with you?â Natasha placed the guitar up against the wall. Y/n had never yelled at her like this before.Â
âI need to study and I canât when youâre distracting me.â Y/n waved towards the direction of the speakers and the guitar as if it was so obvious.Â
âYou could have asked nicely rather than being a dick about it.â Natasha did not like Y/nâs tone one bit. While they were best friends, Natasha did not take shit from anyone.Â
âYou could have been considerate of other people in the room rather than assuming.â Natasha scoffed knowing that this was not the first time she played music in front of Y/n. Heck, she always played music ever since freshman year of high school. Natasha could vividly recall the amount of times she asked Y/n in the beginning days of them dorming. Y/n would always respond with a smile, saying she never minded. So why would things change now?Â
âBullshit - tell me the real reason.â Natasha stood up and crossed her arms, not giving into Y/nâs lie.Â
âIâve had enough. Maybe thatâs the reason.â Natasha rolled her eyes. She walked closer to Y/n, quickly lifting her shirt up to expose just how skinny she had gotten.Â
âYouâve hardly been eating.â Feeling defensive, Y/n backed up, pushing her shirt back down. âYou hardly sleep anymore. Not only that, Iâve barely been able to speak to you without you running away to study. Something is up. So tell me.âÂ
Y/n glanced down to the floor. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of a way to get out of this. Guilt consumed her as quickly as her anger did. And now, she doesn't know what to say.Â
So when the red head saw her friend silently cry, her shoulders dropped and immediately went in for a hug. âWhatever is eating you up, just please tell me. Iâll make sure to help you through it so you donât have to go through it alone.âÂ
âIf Iâm not perfectâŠIâm going to lose you.â But as Y/n clutched on to Natasha, no words escaped her mouth for the redhead had enough to worry about.Â
Day Before Competition - Spring Semester
âI canât believe youâre actually going to a party.â Y/n looked over the simple outfit she had on, blue jeans, loose white shirt, and converse. This was the first time she was going to a party, vividly recalling the multiple lies sheâs used to get out of one in the past.Â
âI donât understand why this one is suddenly mandatory for club members to go to. We literally have a competition tomorrow.â Today was supposed to be spent for late night studying, but according to Wandaâs orders, this was a must for all twelve members.Â
âWho cares? I know youâre going to do well.â Natasha says behind Y/n. The red head admired Y/nâs outfit before looking eyes with her through the mirror. âYouâve been studying your ass off. I just know tomorrow is going to be your day.âÂ
Y/n didnât want to overthink Natasha's words. Ever since she outlashed that night, she refused to for her anger to get the best of her even though her circumstances werenât so great. Offering Natasha a wide smile, Y/n said, âIâll be only drinking one cup tonight but nothing else. I canât be too drunk.â
âAnd Iâm going to do the opposite, I will be getting drunk especially since finals are this upcoming week.âÂ
âI want to leave.â Hours into the party, the crowd grew more alive. More people were in the center dancing while many small groups formed around the frat house. The backyard was filled with people vaping or smoking.Â
Y/n didnât quite recognize all that attended the party. If she was being honest, people started to come even when they werenât part of a club. There were a few outliers from chemistry and movie club, but other than that, the crowd was overwhelming.Â
Sipping on the last few bits of her drink, Y/n watched Natasha with a small buzzing feeling. The red head was downing her fifth shot. A smirk was wide spread on her face as she wiped the small bits of tequila that were on the corner of her mouth. The crowd around her cheered as the next person got their shot ready.
Natasha walked to where Y/n was standing and stood beside her. Feeling touchy, she decided to lay her head on Y/nâs shoulder and observed the crowd. She knew a lot of the outliers from the many parties sheâs been to. Plus, with how outgoing of a personality Natasha had, a lot of people gravitated towards her.Â
But no matter how many people Natasha was friends with, Y/n was always her favorite. The two were opposites but that made the friendship even better. The red head always viewed Y/n as the black cat that never wanted to be petted. But the day she was finally allowed was one that Natasha always remembers.Â
âHaving fun?â Y/n could smell the alcohol from Natashaâs breath but didnât mind.Â
âA little bit. This drink is helping me not stress so much though.â Natasha smiled at Y/nâs confession. The two didnât really have a long talk about her outburst many nights ago. And while Natasha always had her guesses, she remained at Y/nâs side, never wanting her best friend to feel alone.Â
As for Y/n, vowed to keep her anger in check. While she did still feel irritated at times, she focused on not letting her anger consume her as much. Even with the given circumstances, it wasnât fair to Natasha or any of her friends to get the short end of the stick. It wasnât their fault for the way things were.Â
âYa know Nat, for this party to have mandatory attendance, I have not seen Wanda or any of the math club members anywhere.â Natasha looked around the crowd that was in the dance room and couldnât spot the all too familiar brunette at all.Â
âThatâs weird. Did yâall agree for a meet up spot?â Y/n shook her head no.Â
âI havenât even gotten a text from Wanda. Sheâs usually on top of these things.â The two watched for a moment, letting the loud music fill the comfortable silence between them. Wanting to get another shot, Natasha almost left when she saw Wanda amongst the crowd.Â
âWhy does Wanda affect you so much?â Y/n almost hadnât heard Natashaâs question, but when Y/n followed the direction of her gaze, she knew.Â
âShe doesnât affect me.â Although it was a small buzz, the ability to lie knowing she had drunk a little was all the confidence Y/n needed.Â
âWell you talk about her,â Natasha pointed out. âPlus, anytime sheâs around, you end up bickering for a while. Sometimes you would go on rants talking about what she said to you during class.â
The blush that appeared on Y/nâs cheek was hard to spot in the dark setting. The brown eyed girl clutched on her red solo cup, feeling embarrassed that she was easily called out with compelling evidence.Â
Looking back at Wanda, Y/n could feel her heart rate increase as she saw her talking to other people. There was this different aura surrounding her. Maybe it was the drink or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to really enjoy herself. Like academics wasnât the only thing she excelled in.Â
âIs she the reason youâre acting so differently lately?â Natasha lifted her head as she felt Y/n stiffen up. Feeling like she overstepped, the red head was about to spout an apology.
âYeah,â Y/n continued to look at Wanda. Even though it was rude to blame the situation on her, it was easier to admit it than speak the truth. âItâs just..I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.â Y/n complained.Â
But how could she hate the girl that always took number one in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be number two for?
And as Natasha looked back at Wanda then Y/n, a realization suddenly hit her. âYou like her.â But Natasha didnât dare to confess this outloud but it was so obvious. âWhat else would eat her up this way?â Natasha thought.Â
On the other side of the party, Wanda could feel eyes on her. Looking around the room, she finally connected to the brown eyes she knew well. Unknowingly, the sight of Natasha being so close aggravated the brunette for some reason.
But all Wanda could focus on was how soft Y/nâs stare was. There was no jealousy or bitterness about them. And that captivated Wanda even more because this was the first time that Y/n had ever looked at Wanda that way.Â
Suddenly, all the air shifted in the room, and Wanda couldnât help but think, âWhy does she hate me?âÂ
Natasha left after her tenth shot as her girlfriend dragged her away. Feeling no reason to stay any longer, Y/n made her way out the frat house when she bumped into Wanda.Â
The red head was unable to stand up straight, almost falling if it werenât for Y/nâs arms. âHey - hey - are you okay?âÂ
Here was the gaze again, the same one Wanda felt half an hour ago. It was almost too much to handle the first time, leading Wanda to drink even more. It was stupid, nonetheless, Wanda was drunk and the very reason why was the same one holding her.Â
Feeling too much, Wanda leaned away as she puked into the bush. Almost wanting to puke from the sight, Y/n held Wandaâs hair back as she patted her back. âThere - there.âÂ
Y/n looked around and was thankful that no one was here to witness this scene. As much as she hated Wanda, Y/n didnât want this image to be in peopleâs heads.Â
Standing back up, Wanda teared up, hating the feeling of puking.Â
âHey - itâs gonna be okay.â Not knowing what compelled her to do this, Y/n used the bottom of her shirt to wipe Wandaâs mouth. She didnât care if puke got on her. The idea of Wanda crying infront of her was worse than puke.Â
âLet me take you back home. You canât walk in these conditions.â Was Y/n thankful that Wanda had bumped into her? NoâŠwell at least thatâs what she would say out loud. But as Y/n walked Wanda back to her dorm, the awful thought of Wanda unsafely walking by herself at night made her sick.Â
Arriving to dorm 321, Y/n swiped the key card, opening the door to a cold room. Carefully leading Wanda to her bed, Y/n lifted the white duvet, allowing Wanda to crawl in.Â
When Wanda looked comfortable, Y/n looked around the room, noticing the minifridge at the corner. Opening it up, Y/n grabbed a water bottle and placed it at Wandaâs nightstand.Â
Although Y/n could leave, the sight of Wanda sleeping made her freeze. Many thoughts slipped through her mind, some that she would blame the alcohol on. But there was this worrying feeling in her heart as the thought of Wanda puking in her sleep crossed her mind.Â
No one would be able to help her in time considering she didnât have a roommate. Groaning at her predicament, Y/n looked around the room. There was no spare pillow or blanket. It would be a rough night and the competition was soon. Looking at the clock on her wall, the bus would be ready to leave at 8:00 am giving Y/n around six and half hours to sleep.Â
Was it worth it to stay at all? Would Wanda be fine? But as Y/n helped Wanda turn on her side to sleep, the brown eyed girl knew her answer.Â
âWanda, Iâm going to be on the floor. If you need anything, just let me know.â There was no response from Wanda. Figuring she could leave before Wanda woke up in the morning, Y/n laid down on the ground, feeling cold from the intense air conditioning.
âI canât sleep if Iâm freezing to death.â The thought of using the rug below her as a blanket crossed her mind. Before she could say fuck it, Wandaâs voice caught her attention.
âWhy do you hate me?â Glancing towards the bed, Y/n couldnât see Wandaâs face from her view at the floor. Laying back down, Y/n looked at the ceiling, surprised that Wanda was even up.
âWhat makes you think that?â It was rude to dampen a drunk girl, that much was common sense for Y/n. So rather than outwardly admit anything, she rediverted it back to Wanda.Â
âI canât recall a moment where you were kind to me.â Y/n froze as she thought about that moment back in the library, wondering if Wanda had her flannel in her dresser. âAnd I donât think youâve said a nice thing about meâŠso you must hate me.âÂ
Oh how wrong Wanda was. Because the truth of it all, Y/n never hated Wanda. She could never hate the girl that pushed her to do her best everyday. She could never hate the girl that would go above and beyond for people that need help. She could never hate the girl she lived and breathed for.Â
âI have said nice things about you,â Y/n whispered. The two never spoke like this before and it terrified Y/n to even admit such things. âYou just have to look inbetween the lines. Youâre smart - so I guess I hoped you saw through them.âÂ
Wanda was too drunk to really recall anything. She wanted so badly to ask but was afraid of the truth. âAre you ready for the competition?âÂ
Looking back up, Wanda had scooted to the edge of the bed, her eyes connecting with Y/n. âI think so. Do you think youâll win?âÂ
Pulling the duvet away from her mouth, Wanda looked away as she said, âIf I donât, Iâll just disappoint my father.âÂ
âYou wouldnât disappoint me.â Wanda looked back at Y/n. Had she not been drunk, the intensity of her words and stare would have made her combust.Â
But as the long night finally reached Wanda, she suddenly fell asleep before she could respond back. âNothing you could ever do would disappoint me, Wanda.â
Competition Day - Spring Semester
Waking up to the sound of her alarm, Wanda panicked at the time. Immediately rushing to brush her teeth and change her clothes, she rushed out of her dorm, almost forgetting the important papers for the competition.Â
As she ran on to the bus, sparing ten minutes, she looked around to see that everyone besides two people were left. The migraine in her head was hard to ignore, regardless, Wanda was thankful that she made it on time.Â
Soon, the remainder of the team hopped on board, choosing a free row for themselves. Since it was a four hour ride, Wanda didnât bother lecturing the team this early about the competition. She could do that later.Â
Finding a free row near the front, she sat down at the seat closest to the window. Cursing herself for even drinking so much, Wanda glanced over and noticed that Y/n was across from her. She had jeans and white shirt on with a weird stain at the bottom.Â
Wanda almost wanted to yell at her for not being in uniform when she noticed that she was asleep. Feeling another headache, Wanda focused on trying to find medicine in her backpack, the events of last night gone from her memory.Â
Taking an ibuprofen, Wanda pulled out her notes and studied some problems. And although she didnât remember, the girl across from her did as she finally got some sleep, having been up all night making sure that Wanda was safe and sound.Â
Chapter 3
Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog
@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-meÂ
@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-giâna-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camiluchaÂ
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@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacyâ@olsensnpmâ @psychadelichuesâ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa @alyciaddict @justgotlizzied
@msmothermaximoff @ielliesitchyeyereposts @nothanksbye07 @unicorniusfallapatorius @misshelchwhen @marvelogic @emiliaisdead @tobiaslut
@fawnedolly @lizzieswife101 @viosblog112 @theenglishswiftie @chickenlittlsblog @starry-night17
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#My Rival#Rivals to Lovers#college au wanda maximoff#College AU#college!wanda maximoff#marvel#mionemymind#academic rivals
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Enemies (with benefits)
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Word count : 1,489
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since theyâve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly
Warnings: smut, p0rn with plot, a LOT of plot, angst, name calling (bitch, slut, etc.), p in v, rough x, mentions of safe word (not used), rude/cold!Chris, degration, friend with benefits, awkward, (implied) RichKid!reader, no love (đ), unprotected, creampie, no after care, no use of y/n, no oc
(A/N: this is my first ever fanfic that Iâve posted on tumblr. So ya, Iâm shitting bricks. Please give me feat back on my writing, and what I can improve. Also English is not my first language so Iâm sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it!! :D)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
Ever since I can remember, Iâve known the triplets. The sturnioloâs and my family were always really close. And ever since I can remember, Iâve hated Chris.
Now, enemies was a harsh word. A bit of an exaggeration. It wasnât like we were at war for opposing countries. We were more like rivals. In every aspect.
Sometimes it felt like the only reason Chris studied for school, was to beat my grade. He wasnât really stupid, but he was definitely not book smart.
The problem wasnât that. Weâve always lived normally, simply hating and avoiding each other. After all he was my longtime nemesis.
Until that one fateful night where weâd been at my house. My parents have a big business so theyâd frequently be on business trips. And it just so happened that that night my younger siblings were not home, both of them being at their separate sleepovers with friends.
Weâd been paired for some project. And naive me thought, that itâd be fine. We could be civil for a few hours. But I thought wrong. The hatred was too strong and the tension was too thick in the air.
Seemingly everything I did made him agitated. And vise versa.
Until he finally snapped and we got into a full fledged argument, wich turned into a yelling match. However it all went quiet when he crashed his lips onto mine.
Breathing heavily I had kissed back, hard. It was easier to battle about with a kiss, rather than screaming. And like hell was I gonna be dominated by Christopher fucking sturniolo.
So the night progressed. He had me, my face buried in the sheets babbling out nonsense and screaming his name. But not in anger like I usually would.
It had been months since that happened, and it still haunted me. The idea that it even happened. That his lips had been on mine, his dick literally inside of me, that I was literally under him, disgusts me to my core. But it didnât matter. It was one of many times.
Sometimes it was a quickie, sometimes an all nighter. Sometimes Chris was dominant other times he was not. Sometimes it was at my place other times at his.
And it wasnât like those clichĂ© stories of friends with benefits where one fell in love. This felt more like an urge. Like neither of us wanted to actually hook up but we were irking to. This was better than having a yelling match. And on the rare occasions I was dominant it felt great making him shut up and take it. It felt equivalent to winning an argument. The whole point was to teach a lesson, and express annoyance and anger without directly doing that.
âChris-â I let out a sharp cry, even the pillow that my face was buried in didnât really make the scream sound quieter.
His hips keep drilling into my core hitting all the right spots to make me weak in the knees.
Sex with him, objectively, felt good. In the moment. He knew how to please a woman. But he also knew that he was pushing it right now.
âDonât fucking tell me to slow down.â He snaps his tone, and words as harsh as his breathing. âYou have a safe word. Use it if you need to. And other wise, shut, the fuck, up.â
I only let out a sharp whine when he seems to pick up pace even more. Heâs made a mess of me. Weâve been at this for hours. Literally.
Iâve come more times than I can count and Chris wasnât showing any sign of stoping anytime soon.
My back arches perfectly, but Iâve been in this position for too long for it to be comfortable. Him leaning over my back occasionally leaving harsh slaps on my ass while his other hand stayed firmly im my hair.
His hand being tangled in my hair as he was both pulling it, but also pressing me down into the pillow under me.
I feel the ache in my cunt subside again, as a knot starts to form. Iâm close, again, and I donât know if I can keep going after.
âChrisâ I scream his name loudly panting and moaning. âIâm- closeâ I can barely form a sentence. His thrust are hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs every time.
âOh ya?â He harshly slaps my ass causing me to moan loudly. âHow much more you think this pussy can take?â He huffs his tone ever so cocky.
He always did this. He liked being dominant and absolutely wrecking me as much as he can. And he knows Iâm close to breaking, and thatâs what makes it worse. I just know he gets a wired satisfaction out of exerting me.. using me, like this.
His hand stays firmly in my hair tugging harder. His other hand trailing from my ass to my clit as he starts to rub on it harshly.
I clench instinctively, my whining and moaning getting even louder. âIâm gonna-â a harsh slap on my clit catches me off guard.
Chris keeps going. âFucking slut. You like getting destroyed like this?â he mocks, his tone condescending as his pace doesnât let up.
âGo on bitch, cum on my cock. Come again.â He urges. And the rubbing of his fingers on my clit and the relentless torture to my cunt is threatening to push me over the edge.
âCan I come in that pussy again?â He asks his voice coming out strained and harsh from the pleasure.
âYes-â Iâm cut off, again. As i am physically not able to speak with the pace heâs going at.
And the combined pressure of everything pushes me over the edge. Suddenly the knot in my stomach snaps and my body goes limp after loud moans. He goes for a few more thrusts before I feel the familiar hot liquid fill my cunt.
After a minute where we catch our breaths he slowly starts to massage my scalp knowing heâs been pulling on it for at least half an hour straight.
He pulls out not really gently, but not harshly either.
Hook ups with Chris always felt like one night stands, when they were really regular.
I let my body fall limp fully laying on my stomach as I sigh, content in my position, not attempting to move.
I can practically feel Chris watching me.
Normally I wouldnât be this much of a mess. But than again normally we didnât go for hours. Normally Chris used a condom. But today was not one of those days.
Sometimes chris had enough common sense to at least pretend to care.
But right now he was just staring.
âYou okay?â He asks his tone gentler and more quiet than usual. He knew he was pushing it, but did he really care tho?
I shiver as I feel his hand start to rub over my back. Ever so gently pinching the skin to ease some tension.
âYaâ
My breath is short as Iâm still calming down not doing or saying anything else.
After a while I turn around slightly, wincing as I lay on my back. My back hurt from the previous uncomfortable position I was in.
I opened my tired eyes, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his. I knew I probably looked like a wreck right now. My hair a mess because of all the moving and position changes as well as his pulling. My face having dried mascara and tear stains on it from when Iâd been crying.
I was too tired to even hide my body. I just turned around not bothering to hide my chest as I did, I was too fucked out to care.
His lips pursed, looking over my face. But he wasnât concerned. But rather disgusted at the sight. He was glad he made me look like shit, but I could see in his eyes that he would much rather be anywhere else right now.
After sex was the worst for us.
The arguments leading up to it were normal. The sex itself was great. But afterwardsâŠ
Usually heâd leave. But today he had gone far. Heâs done worse before. But every time he did he felt like he should give me proper after care. But I can see the annoyance radiating off of him, and I just know he does not want to be here.
And as harsh as it sounds, he couldnât really care less what state he left me in. Heâs told me multiple times.
âYou can leave.â I mumble sighing. My throat felt horse from all the screaming, crying and moaning, that Iâd been doing. Iâll need to get a water soon.
He gives me a simple nod, quickly changing, then going to my bathroom to fix his appearance.
And than he leaves.
The room is quiet. Nothing to be heard, nothing to be said.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you liked it, this was literally my first time writing smutđ«Ł also I donât have a taglist yet, so i just added my moots. Tell me if u wanna be added, or removed :D
âŒïžplease donât copy my work/ideaâŒïž
Taglist : @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns
#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x y/n#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x you#sturniolo smut#Spotify#smut
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âI'LL NEVER WIN YOUR HEART.
pairing: alexia putellas x reader
synopsis: aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you donât know anything else when it comes to alexia.
word count: 2k
tw: aNGST, spicy stuff, enemies to lovers to âŠâŠâŠ.?
a/n: wow has it really been a month since i last posted that's insane (i'm not being sarcastic i'm actually so shook at how fast time passes).
now playing:
Her eyebrows narrowed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes lasered in like a hawk.
Even from across the club, several of your teammates knew to get the hell out of her way when she made a beeline towards you.
Alexia was scary when she was angry. There was an untouchable force to her that made one cower under her steely gaze. You used to feel the effect of it, once upon a time, but recently it was almost a weekly occurrence that she would direct her hardened gaze at you.
And now, as she fixed that deathly glare onto you, you felt your arm being yanked just as you were about to kiss the beautiful stranger you met mere minutes ago.
âWhat the fuck, Alexia!â Admittedly, you were buzzed, and any obstruction to your enjoyment would irritate you.
âCome with me,â she gritted her teeth.
âNo! Let me go!â
She tugged on your arm and dragged you away despite your protests. The bathroom at the back of this club was filthy, and the door barely did anything to block out the thumping music outside, but Alexia pushed you into one of the stalls anyway, caging you in between her arms on either side of your head.
You had half a heart to slap her across the face when she shoved you against the divider and kissed you like a barbarian, lips and teeth clashing against one another in a heated mess. She had no right to do this, but her entitlement made it so you were trapped in her grasp again.
The worst part was that you enjoyed it, very much, especially when she went on her knees to do what she always did best.
It happened not too dissimilar to how it started. Your frustration mixed with her only ensured you both collided in the most spectacular way. You remembered arguing with her after a horrible game, both of you throwing blame at each other. It happened so quickly, that before you knew it, your hatred had turned to lust. Hatefucking, as one might call it. Suddenly, all you could think about each day was how much you hated Alexia and couldn't wait to fall into bed with her.
âYou canât just do that and pretend like nothing happened.â
Your words came out rushed as you were still trying to catch your breath. Alexia exited the stall and went to wash her hands, doing so with a frustrating nonchalance.
She met your gaze in the mirror. âCanât I?â
You scoffed. âWhy do I bother? La Reina never gets off her high horse, does she? Youâve never respected me, ever.â
âThatâs not true.â Her eyes flickered, and you thought you could see unspoken words behind them.
âThen what was that earlier?â You asked, irritated.
âI should ask you the same question,â she said firmly. âI thought we were fine. And now I see you grinding on some girl at the club? I meanâwhat is this, Y/N?â
It was always like that with Alexia, and if she didnât say what she wanted to say, then you couldnât help her.
âItâs not like you care,â you gritted your teeth. âI hope you had fun with Olga, by the way.â
Now it was her turn to scoff. âSheâs my friend.â
âShe was also your ex.â
âCanât I be friends with my ex? And who are you to tell me who I should and shouldnât hang out with?â
She was right. You had no place in her life to be telling her that. It was purely your desire, or a lack thereof, to hold a special place in her heart, but maybe you were foolish to wish for it when there has been so much history between you.
You chewed on your bottom lip, a habit you had since you were young. You suddenly felt the bathroom walls closing in on youâyou needed to get out of there quickly.
Wordlessly, you shoved past her and returned to the club, the music once again deafening and pumping in your chest. You expelled a breath; the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Patri and Pina, with whom you came. Thatâs fine, there was an entire nightclubâs worth of people. You would find at least one person who would make you forget how much you despised Alexia andâmaybe for the nightâhow much you loved her.
The story could have gone so differently. You two were similar in age, grew within the ranks of the Spanish youth teams together, then played at Barcelona together. You both played in midfield and younger players looked to you for guidance and leadership. Yet, it was known among your teammates that the two of you couldnât stand to be in the same room. Ever since you were young, your similar play styles and clashing personalities ensured that you always butt heads on the field, and eventually, off it too. You grew up with this hatred of Alexia, as she did of you, but you could barely remember why. You were brazen and Alexia was cold, and that never worked for either of you.
It seemed she had had enough of your attitude one day, and shoved you so hard in training you thought you might have sprained an ankle. Some of the other girls noticed her distaste for you and started to distance themselves to gain favor with her. Then, Alexia became the best player in Spain, and you were always in her shadow. The media called you her âhealthy rivalryâ, even when you played for the same club. If you didnât hate her as much as you did, they all ensured that you would never be able to get along ever again.
There was a memory that you buried deep inside, but it would easily surface again on nights like this. It made you question everything youâve felt for Alexia, this thorn in your side that has never let you know peace
It was the summer of 2012 at a Spain U-19 camp. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before you came because it was your first call-up to represent your country. Alexia, of course, had become a familiar face in the team by the time you arrived. She wasnât seen at breakfast one morning, and a coach said that she was dealing with personal matters. What you didnât anticipate was finding her sitting alone by the steps of an entrance bawling her eyes out. You had tried to retreat, but Alexia had looked up before you could go.
âS-Sorry, Iâll justââ
âMi papĂĄ . . .â Her voice was quiet like she didnât want you to hear. Then, she burst into tears again. You had never seen Alexia like this, so distraught and vulnerable. The friends she liked to keep around were nowhere to be seen either. She never liked to appear weak in front of others.
Against your better judgment, you approached and sat next to her. âWhat happened?â
Exhaling shakily, she answered. âHe was very sick. I just got the call from my mom.â
Your mouth hung open, unable to form words. As Alexia smeared her tears away with the back of her sleeve, she suddenly appeared younger and unlike the captain that youâve come to know her. She was just a girl, whoâd had something terrible happen to her, and you would be the biggest jerk not to push whatever you had between you aside.
âIâm sorry,â you only managed to say.
She said nothing and rested her face on the inside of her elbows.
âIâm sure he was very proud of you.â
âPlease donât say anything,â she breathed out, making you wince.
âOkay.â
Alexia sniffled. âI just donât want to be alone right now.â
âOkay,â you nodded slightly. You didnât like talking about your feelings either. It was the first thing you found Alexia and you had in common.
You started to feel sick. Your head spun like you had just stepped out of a washing machine, but still, you reached for the passing bartender who looked at you with patronizing eyes.
âAnother.â
âY/N, thatâs enough.â
You pushed her hand away, mentally cursing at her interruption.
âFuck off.â
âIâm gonna have to explain to Jona why youâre still shitfaced at training tomorrow.â
âFuck. Off. I donât fucking care.â
Then, you heard her say something she had never said to you before. âPlease. Letâs go home.â
The truth was, you never wanted to protest her. Maybe the years have softened you, but you didnât want to admit how much you craved her affection. There were times when you despised her and thought her the lowest form of a human being.
âPlease donât do this,â you pleaded. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you watched her frantically spring out of bed.
âIâuh, have to go. Iâm meeting someone for lunch.â She replied, reaching for her pants strewn across the floor.
âAle, Iâm sorry . . .â You managed a pathetic whimper, tears threatening to fall. âCan we just pretend I never said anything?â
How is it that she had made you feel so euphoric merely moments later, and now you felt like you had hit rock bottom? Only because those stupid words slipped out of your mouth.
. . . But was it such a crime to tell her that you loved her, when it was your truth?
You learned the hard way that Alexia didnât want what you wanted. Maybe it was just her, or maybe it was you, and she didnât want anything to do with you. If that were true, you were foolish to think for even a second that she would. You never gave her much to like anyway.
But still, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didnât have any feelings for her. But aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you donât know anything else when it comes to Alexia.
She had brought you back to your apartment, supporting you by holding you close and guiding you inside gradually.
The moment you hit the mattress, you groaned at the snugness of your own bed. Your eyes were barely open, but you saw the way she pulled your shoes off your feet and coaxed you to sit up so she could shed your outer coat.
But that was it. She was afraid to help you further, as it would resurface emotions Alexia thought should be buried, emotions that reminded her of sleepless nights and passion.
âWhy are you so quick to get away from me?â You mumbled into your pillow.
You heard her sigh. âI brought you home, didnât I?â
âAm I really that detestable that you wouldnât even look at me?â
Her eyes met yours, but unlike earlier in the night, they now held a softness. âYou know I donât hate you. I never did.â
âThen stay.â You whispered, your head still spinning, but all you could focus on was her. âStay with me. Please, we wonât do anything. I just donât want to be alone.â
You didnât care that you were begging her. You were tired of being pulled from end to end, and it was so much easier to love than to hate her.
You thought she would laugh in your face, pack her things and leave. Yet, when you opened your eyes again, she was lying in bed next to you, under the cover and all. She had changed into your clothes, so much more time had passed than you had thought.
âGo to sleep. We have training tomorrow,â Alexia whispered, her lips brushing your forehead softly.
You obliged, nuzzling your head into her chest as you let the comfort of her embrace lull you to sleep. You were too tired to fight it, to tell her no, that you would talk to her seriously about the two of you, even if you were drunk. It wasnât the first time you had fallen for Alexiaâs lies; all the other times, she left you in the dirt after giving you her everything for you to pick up the pieces yourself.
You hated her because you loved her. But maybe this is enough, you thought before sleep took over, just for tonight.
Maybe tomorrow will be different.
#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas imagines#alexia putellas angst#alexia putellas#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagines#woso angst#Spotify
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