#kinda caught between feeling nothing and feeling everything all at once

[maggins]

…

[a-kaash-me-outside]

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto. 

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you. 

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.” 

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back. 

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in. 

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs. 

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable. 

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest. 

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin. 

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you. 

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?” 

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door. 

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient. 

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body. 

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait. 

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure. 

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration. 

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence. 

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now. 

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils. 

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question. 

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope. 

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think. 

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less. 

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view. 

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates. 

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes. 

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer. 

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest. 

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left. 

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me. 

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated. 

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along. 

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now. 

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?” 

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that. 

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want. 

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever. 

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it. 

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee. 

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee. 

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee. 

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee. 

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee. 

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt. 

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead. 

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful. 

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either. 

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession. 

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too. 

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too. 

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too. 

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again. 

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says. 

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips. 

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body. 

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs. 

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat. 

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act. 

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall. 

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?” 

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out. 

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure. 

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this. 

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out. 

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys. 

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen. 

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes. 

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere. 

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked. 

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?” 

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs. 

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face. 

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering. 

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost. 

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs. 

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together. 

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur. 

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree. 

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?” 

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow. 

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence. 

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump. 

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask. 

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not. 

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement. 

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before. 

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile. 

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak. 

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about. 

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree. 

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response. 

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh. 

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy. 

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case. 

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop. 

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word. 

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky. 

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too. 

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are. 

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles. 

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time. 

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you. 

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop. 

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back. 

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety. 

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur. 

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter. 

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates. 

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder. 

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

[gaycentral]

Confession

Summary: In the heat of the moment, JJ confesses her love for Spencer despite being married. Spencer has a confession of his own.

@delusionaldeadgirl @yomamacrusty

Warnings: Uhhhh JJ’s kind of a jerk in this (sorry JJ ily but you shouldn���t have done that when you’re married), kinda suggestive for a second there but nothing happens? Spencer gets mean for a second there, Protective Husband Mode (tm) I clearly don’t know how to write relationships please be nice to me.

Things had been…tense, to say the least. JJ still wondered why she’d done it, she was a married woman, she had kids. She loved Will, no doubt about it, but Spencer?

Spencer was different. She’d known him for a decade now, and even after everything he’d gone through, he was still him, even if changed. Brilliant and kind, gentle and warm and unbelievably loving. He had so much love to give, and he held it inside, a tight ball in his chest that seemed ready to burst.

Perhaps that’s why she did it. She wanted some of that love from him. It was foolish, she knew that, it was selfish. It was unfair to Will, to Spencer, to herself. But, much to her own dismay, she didn’t care. She wanted so desperately to hear him say it back, to take her in his arms, to hold her and love her the way she’d always wanted him to, even if it wasn’t realistic.

But she still hoped.

“JJ.” Spencer’s usual soft cadence broke the tense silence of the break room as he stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and his eyes trained intently on her. JJ felt her heart speed up. Was this it? Was her outlandish fantasy not so outlandish after all? She watched him, absorbed him. His big brown eyes as he gazed at her, the familiar pinch in his brow, his messy curls that always looked so unfairly soft.

Spencer took a few steps forward, but he didn’t get as close as she wanted him to, maintaining a respectful distance, and JJ felt the familiar ache of yearning. Closer, she begged internally. Please.

“Yes?” She finally opted as a response, the glint in her eyes betraying the growing feeling of excitement. She knew Spencer quite well, or she thought she did, and he certainly seemed nervous. Nervous enough for a confession.

“I have something to tell you.” Spencer finally said, one of his hands pulling something she couldn’t see from under his collar, attached to the chain of a necklace, and rubbing his thumb over it in a self-soothing motion. “I should have told you before.”

This was it, JJ thought to herself, her inner voice was almost squealing with excitement. Her breath caught in anticipation, and a smile began to grow on her face.

“I know.” She said, perhaps rather presumptuously, too impatient for him to say it, and she said those oh-so-dangerous words once again. “I love you too.”

The air hung between them for a moment, and when Spencer didn’t say it back, JJ’s smile began to fade. Oh no. Was she too presumptuous? Was Spencer not ready to say it? Had she ruined everything? Oh god, what if he was already in a relationship?

“No.” Spencer shook his head, a frown creasing his features in a way that made JJ’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “JJ, I’m married.”

JJ’s heart stopped. Her worst fear confirmed. No. No…that didn’t make sense, where was the ring? She’d never met his spouse, he’d never spoken of them. Was this a trick? A lie? Surely he was kidding. He’d break out into his infectious smile and say it back, any time now.

“I’ve been married for years. And I love them more than anything.” His hand opened and he showed JJ the wedding ring, noticing her bewilderment. “I wear it around my neck so I don’t lose it. It’s easier to hide from prying eyes that way.”

JJ felt as though she were listening to him speak underwater, her head swimming with confusion, with anger, with grief. No, no, no. This wasn’t fair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted something for myself.” Spencer’s face was still marred by a frown, and he tucked the ring necklace back under his collar. “You’re not entitled to know about every part of my life.”

It wasn’t fair to him, but this made JJ angrier, and she began to speak before thinking. “Who is it? Some…some stand in for me? I know you felt something for me once! They’re just a replacement because you couldn’t have me!”

To say Spencer was shocked by her outburst was the understatement of the century. The gentleness and patience he often associated with JJ had seemingly vanished, morphing into bitterness, lashing out from embarrassment and jealousy.

JJ looked past Spencer for a moment, and locked eyes with you. You. Of course. How had she been so blind? Of course it was you who had snatched Spencer up, who’d taken his affection for yourself.

You were staring her down, brow furrowed deeply and gaze sharp with a glare. You’d been listening in. Spencer had told you he wanted to deal with this on his own, and you respected his wishes…but that didn’t mean you weren’t weighing the consequences of throwing your stapler at her.

“They’re not a replacement.” That rare, dangerous edge to Spencer’s voice made it’s return, this time directed at JJ, which had never happened before. “I had a crush on you, what, ten years ago? That’s all. That’s it. Nothing more.”

He stepped closer to JJ, brow deeply furrowed and a darkness in his eyes that made her shrink, her insults dying in her throat.

“I’m a patient man, so I’ll only warn you once. Don’t ever talk about them like that again. You don’t want to find out what will happen the next time.”

The mosh frightening part was that his threat could be entirely genuine. Prison had changed him, rage festered in him like a disease, a rage that hadn’t existed before. And he was clever, so very clever, he didn’t need to lay a finger on JJ to hurt her. He never would.

Spencer abruptly left the break room, storming out of the bullpen, and you quickly followed, too worried about him to bother giving JJ one last withering glare. Although it did cross your mind.

It took a bit of searching, but you found him in the men’s bathroom. His hands clutched the counter, his tie loose, his head hung over the sink. You frown, hearing his deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.

You slowly approach before wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, and he meets your gaze in the mirror, his muscles noticeably relaxing beneath your hold, his grip on the counter loosening as lets out a heavy sigh.

He turns in your arms until he can hold you properly, his chin resting atop your head, the two of you gently swaying side to side as you hold each other. His eyes slip closed in a moment of peace, and he dips his head slightly to press a kiss to your forehead.

“So…you threatened JJ for me?” Despite the question, you keep your tone playful, trying to lighten the mood and you hear Spencer groan.

“You heard that?” He mumbled, shame causing his cheeks to burn. He knew he’d stepped over a line, and he regretted it, but a part of him didn’t. A part of him thought it was deserved.

“Yup. And I know I shouldn’t encourage that, but it was very sweet that you stood up for me…and a bit of a turn on. Just so you know.” Not letting go of him, you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, smiling up at him, taking joy in his surprised laugh and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind.” His tone was warm, affectionate, watching you intently as you straightened his tie for him, the grin fading into a soft smile.

“You know that JJ was wrong, right? None of that stuff she said is true.” He worried that maybe you’d taken her words to heart—or worse, that it was something you truly believed long before today.

“I know.” You smile up at him, hands moving from his tie to rest on his chest, the fabric of his suit jacket smooth beneath your palms. “You gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be alright.” Spencer assured you, but his fingers curled lightly around your wrists, pulling you back into him, placing a soft kiss on your lips before resting his cheek on top of your head. “I’d just like to stay like this for a few more minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

[h8ani]

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 4k

Warnings - smut, angry sex, public sex, fear of getting caught, hair pulling, angst, slight paranoia, kinda non-canon structures (its been a long time since i watched naruto tbh so disregard the village not being exactly how the anime is), oral - male receiving, face fucking, gagging, degradation, penetrative sex, fem!reader, choking, reader is described to be wearing a dress in this chapter, there’s a voyeur

A/N - Just a reminder that if you have joined my taglist and change your username please let me know! If you haven't joined I put the link down below :) But holy hell you guys I can't believe I actually finished this after almost 5 months in my drafts, but I hope you enjoy it!

taglist! - @bloodsiren @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @kodzukein

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

It’s been a few days since the last time Sasuke was over. You’re used to the silence in between his visits; it’s become second nature to go days, even weeks, without seeing him, and the radio silence between each time he visits has become more common than the last. 

It doesn’t bother you. It does. You could really care less. Sasuke has been the only thing that’s been on your mind. You absolutely hate him. You feel…conflicted.

~~

Limbs tangled with one another, all you could hear were the heavy breaths that escaped both of your lips, your body rising and falling every time Sasuke took in a deep breath as you laid on top of him, his hands dancing along the skin of your back so featherlight it almost tickled. 

Neither of you had uttered a word, just basking in the feeling of touching the other’s skin; the warmth radiating off each other’s body heat brought a sense of familiarity that you couldn’t quite pinpoint just why you felt most comfortable in his arms. You mentally shook the thought away; there was no need to focus on that. Your mind had already cleared up from the sex fog he had put you under and had started to race with a million different things that you wanted to bring up to him. Why did he do what he did? When was he going to leave again? He’s going to leave right away, don’t be stupid. When were you going to see him again? Why did he leave in the first place? You wanted to bring up so much, but you couldn’t brush off this feeling that something was about to happen, as if the rainstorm you were caught up in earlier today was a warning of a disaster brewing and about to happen. 

“What’s wrong,” Sasuke spoke up, his words sounding more like a statement than a question. His eyes were trained on you, making your stomach involuntarily tighten with their intensity. He had been focusing on the multitude of expressions that had graced your face within the last minute; you were completely oblivious to his stare; somehow, he wanted to blame the sex for your lack of inattentiveness and not the fact that you may feel safe around him, no it couldn’t be that. Being distracted has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you being incompetent. Yeah, that’s it.  

Your eyes met his, and before he knew it, your eyes lit up, a small smile appeared, and a simple shake of the head erased any form of contemplation he had previously seen. “Nothing.” You quickly say, “Just thinking.” Bullshit

“About what?” He interjects, his hands that were once dancing lightly across your back were now holding your hips, gripping ever so slightly. 

“Just thinking, random thoughts, it doesn’t matter.” 

“If it doesn’t matter, then you can tell me.”

Huffing a sigh, you stare back at him, his emotionless pools of black not letting you get a read on him, yours: uncertainty. “You won’t answer me even if I ask.”

He raises and sits up, causing you to reposition yourself in an upright position as well; your eyes stay trained on him as his stare hardens, almost as if what you just said offended him somehow. His eyes glance into yours as if he needs to be wary now. “I’m not answering anything about why I’m back in the village or why I left.” He blurts out quickly, a scoff following soon after. “You know you can’t say anything about seeing me. Don’t go blabbing about it to any of your little friends, or I won’t be coming back.” His stare solidifies as your jaw drops ever so slightly; the hardened look he’s giving you makes your chest tighten, and your body rises in temperature. 

Sasuke sees your expression fall ever so slightly before you catch yourself and, in turn, sends the signature scowl he’s grown accustomed to back in his direction. Your eyes narrow while you sit up straighter, the discarded sheet on the bed now pulled tightly to your chest, and he curses at the way that made his stomach clench. He doesn’t care if you’re mad at him, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t want to ruin your two’s good momentum today. The sex was great, and he wanted to leave on what would be considered a good note for the both of you.

“I think you should go,” you say simply. You avert your glare and decide to stare at the wall instead, avoiding his eyes. “You know where the door is.” Ouch.

He rubs his face and sighs. “Look, you don’t get-”

“I don’t care, Sasuke. Like I said, it didn’t matter. So why don’t you just leave? I never saw you, and I’m not going to tell any of my “little friends.” 

You sigh and throw the blankets off you, quickly grabbing your clothes and slamming your bathroom door shut. 

Your throat tightened from the moment you got up, wanting to get away from him from the very moment he opened his stupid mouth. You take a slow, deep breath and let it out; the tightness in your throat drops to your stomach. Why would he even snap like that? What gives him the right to think he could speak like that to you? You miff another sigh out as the conflict in you bubbles up even more with the thoughts running rampant. How stupid could you be for thinking he actually could’ve been somewhat of a nice human being after today?

Your thoughts were quickly silenced by the sound of your front door opening and closing, the door shutting louder than necessary. Fucking asshole.

~~

You shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts as you look at yourself in the mirror, you fix your hair and check over your outfit in the mirror, quickly doing a little 360 in your mirror. Everyone had decided that tonight was a good night to hang out and have some drinks as no one had any missions for tomorrow, so there was no need to worry about any impending hangovers. 

You changed into a nice dress that fell mid-thigh; it was form-fitting and casual enough that you didn’t overdress or underdress with it. You pulled your hair into a high ponytail and just enough makeup to cover any eye bags that were more prominent than usual, no less from your sleepless nights thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named-or-thought-of. You looked yourself over in the mirror and smiled. You felt pretty tonight, and it was nice not constantly to be in work mode for once.

The stressors from work and the expectations you always got from everyone took a toll on your body more than you would have liked. You were expected to never make any mistakes and always be three steps ahead, and it was simply a lot. Was it fair? Probably not, but it was also what you got for being a perfectionist at such a young age. You gave everyone expectations where you could only rise instead of fall. If you fell, everyone would know, and you just couldn’t have that. 

You leave your apartment and make your way down to meet your friends. The air had a slight chill to it as the sun was finally setting, but something along with the chill was bothering you. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone was watching you. 

Your feet skid to a halt as you spin, eyes cascading along the rooftops of the buildings around you. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins beating, and you feel every thump as your anxiety spikes. You internally curse yourself for being so stupid as not to even bring a single shuriken with you. For god’s sake, you could’ve popped one in your purse just for safekeeping. The anxiety you feel is derived from being paranoid, and you have to remind yourself no one is watching you and that it’s just your own mind playing tricks on you. You take a deep breath as you hear a name call out to you; turning back around, you see Shikamaru and Choji waving you over. You speed walk over to them, swallowing down the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Was Sasuke here again? You wouldn’t expect him to be over so soon after the fight you two had just days ago. He’s never over this soon after he leaves anyway. Usually, it takes weeks for him to come over, sometimes even months. Although his eyes being the ones you’ve felt had to have been it, there’s no other explanation.

~~

The buzz of the alcohol was finally settling in; once you got inside, you decided you needed a tiny little shot to calm your nerves and anxieties, then another once all your friends arrived and wanted to take a group shot, and now here you are ordering your third. You’re a lightweight, no shock about that, and feeling a bit dazed as you stare at the shot of alcohol sitting in front of you. You’re so zoned out, not even realizing the presence of someone taking the seat next to you at the bar table.

“You look nice tonight.” A familiar voice catches your ear, and you turn, seeing Shikamaru next to you. A sudden rush of heat hits you as you stare back at him. “Oh, T-Thank you.” You stutter out and mentally smack yourself. You divert your attention back to your shot glass, suddenly remembering how intriguing it was just two seconds ago. 

Suddenly, hearing the sound of glass scraping against the bar table, you look up and see a similar shot in Shikamaru’s hand. “Cheers?” He holds up his shot glass, waiting for you to do the same. A small chuckle leaves you as you hold yours up and clink your glass with his. “Cheers.” 

You knock back the shot, grimacing over the familiar burn down your throat and the fuzzy feeling deep in your stomach. You sigh and slump back against your seat as you look at Shikamaru. “You look nice too, I think I forgot to compliment you back.” 

He chuckles, “Thanks, I didn’t really know what to wear. I wanted to come in sweats and a hoodie, but Ino just about had a conniption when I mentioned that.”

“Oh, don’t lie, you didn’t even want to come to this.”

“And you did?”

“Well, you got me there, didn’t you?” 

Laughter fills the air around you two as you continue to talk about past missions, the latest drama you’ve heard around the village, and even as mundane as the midnight snacks you two have had, you were actually…enjoying yourself; the thought of Sasuke had been dissipated like the rain that had come and gone from the prior days. Listening to Shikamaru talk was something you found yourself rather enjoying. Still, maybe that’s just the alcohol in your veins talking. Yeah, that was definitely it. “So, what’s new with you?” Shikamaru asks, his eyes finding yours, and the sudden tightness is once again back, whether that being because the only thing that seems to be ‘new’ in your life was Sasuke and every little defiling and obscene moment between you two replayed again in your head or because you actually might be liking the attention Shikamaru is giving you the world will never know. 

“Ah, you know. Lots of training, lots of missions, lots of-”

“Staying in your apartment all day and night?”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, lips slowly following suit. “Shikamaru Nara, are you stalking me?” An indiscernible giggle leaves your lips, which shocks not only you but also him. You can see the pink rising to his cheeks at your minor faux accusation; his eyes widen, and his hands immediately come up to defend himself. “No, I just hear Ino constantly nagging at me to hang out with her, that’s how I know. I don’t stand out of your window or anything like that. Do you know how much time and energy that takes? Do you know-”

“Shikamaru?” 

“What?”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

“You know, for someone with an IQ higher than a tree, you’re kinda dumb.”

“You know what…Shut up.”

~~

The air around you as you step outside drops a few degrees, causing you to shiver despite the multiple shots you had earlier. Glancing around, you notice how barren the pathways are and how barren the town seems. You glance back over your shoulder to see that Shikamaru is already on his way with his teammates, all drunk themselves, as you see them stumbling against each other. 

Your apartment isn’t far from where you are, so you, in turn, make your way down the path. Bad idea. The more you walk, the more you regret that last shot you took and every single life choice you seem to have made tonight because the line you had been walking in had slowly turned into a wave, making you plant your hand on the building beside you. “Just a little more, and I’m almost home.” You blow out a sigh before taking another step forward. Looking up, your body freezes as you see a rock fly past you and fall to the floor to your right. Your senses come to realize that someone is near as you stare at the rock. The alcohol has slowed your reflexes because you’re yanked backward, a scream bubbling up in your throat. Still, before you can release it, a hand is clasped over your mouth, and you get dragged in between the two buildings down the small alleyway.

You begin kicking back and screaming into the hand, fighting as you’re dragged back further into the small space between the two buildings, your front pressed against the wall and the chills finding their way back up your spine once you hear his voice. “How stupid could you be?” His voice is loud in your ear, hand still firm against your mouth, not allowing you to utter a word. “Walking home drunk is one thing, but what the fuck are you wearing?” He seethes. Your dress is already riding up higher on your thighs, just below your ass, due to being pressed between the wall and the man himself. It took all of one big gust of wind to blow it up or one perverted old man to ‘drop’ something of his to catch a look up your dress. The anger that welled up in his chest was undeniable as he pushed off of you and spun you around to slam you harder into the wall itself. Your eyes caught him scanning over you; his already dark eyes seemed even darker tonight. The dress you wore hugged every inch of you perfectly, and it drove him madder seeing it hiked up higher than intended, all thanks to him. One more inch, and he could see the little lace thong he knew you were wearing. He finds your eyes and tsks at the dumbfounded look you gave him; just how stupid were you? 

“Sasuke-”

“Shut up and get on your knees.” He cuts you off, hands gripping your arms and tugging you down until you plop down on your knees. The dirt underneath you digs uncomfortably into your skin. You look up, pupils dilated as you stare up at the ravenette. “Unless you want us to be caught, I suggest you not utter a single noise.” Without warning, Sasuke pushes two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, pumping the digits like they were his cock until they were soaked with your own spit. “I suggest you act right, given your circumstances.” He speaks, and your eyes narrow up at him; the urge to clamp your teeth on his fingers threatens to come to fruition, but you can’t ignore the subtle throb in between your legs. “Suck.” He says while pushing his fingers deeper and tugging his pants down with his other hand, pulling down the material along with his underwear, allowing his cock to spring out. You could feel yourself salivate just looking at him, wanting to trade his fingers for his cock against your better judgment. He presses his fingers down harder against your tongue, causing you to gag and choke on saliva; you can hear the snicker that comes from him as he watches you trying to quieten your coughing spout. 

His hand threads into your hair, messing up your almost perfect ponytail, the grip burning your scalp as he pulls you forward, knees dragging against the ground while the tip of his cock presses against your wet lips, his precum smearing across them in an almost erotic way that Sasuke doesn’t think he could last by just looking at you. 

You drop your jaw open while he pushes his cock past your lips, enveloping himself in the warmth that is your mouth. The grip on your hair grants you nothing but pain as his hips begin to move to their own rhythm, his cock hitting farther back than the last thrust. You try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your face to his liking; maybe if your mind weren’t so focused on Sasuke being here, cock down your throat and his eyes watching you so meticulously, you’d have the nerve to push back, make him slow down, maybe even explain why he knew you were out with your friends in the first place and not at home. 

Tugging you even tighter, Sasuke pushes your head until your nose is brushing against his stomach; your throat tightens as he effectively pushes each inch into your throat. “You feel me? Do you think that Shikamaru could ever stretch your throat out like I do? He might as well try something with you seeing how fucking drunk you were tonight.” His hips rock forward until his dick hits further back into your throat. You choke around him, drool effectually spilling past your lips and down your chin. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you sputter another cough, which turns into a gag around his length. A disapproving noise is heard from him as he pulls away, allowing you to take in deep breaths. As you open your eyes, you see him crouched down in front of you, a look one can only describe as displeasure. “How stupid could you be?” he says, slightly shaking his head before he speaks again. You’re supposed to be better than them.” 

“Better than-”

Crack!

“Naruto! You idiot!” You gasp as you hear the rest of your friends walking down and getting closer to the alleyway you were in. They must’ve just now left the bar you all were at; this isn’t good; you need to leave; they can’t see you like this. You pull farther away from Sasuke as you see them pass the opening between the two buildings, all of them stumbling and unknowingly passing you as they walk. 

Another tsk leaves his mouth as he shoves you forward; you catch yourself on your hands while grimacing at the sting that travels through the skin of your knees. You feel his hands positioning himself behind you, all while pushing your dress up to your hips and pulling your thong to the side. Suddenly feeling every bit of alcohol drain from your system, you become hyper-aware of what is really happening; you jolt forward, and before you can spin around to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, you’re yanked back by your hair, back arching to the point where you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Make sure to be quiet, or else everyone is going to see how much you love taking my cock.” A deep chuckle vibrates through him. “What would they think when seeing you on all fours in an alley? Perfect little (y/n) crying from how good my cock makes her feel; how would you ever live that down? You think Shikamaru would ever give you the slightest bit of attention after that?” 

Letting go of your hair, a knee between your thighs pushed them further apart while you balanced yourself on your hands. The itching feeling that someone could see or be watching from a distance burns brighter than the pain in your knees. The swollen tip of his cock prods your already glistening entrance; you bite down on your lip to stop any form of a whine from slipping out. You swallow down the nerves as his hand leaves your hair to slip around your throat; the silent plea that he wouldn’t make this difficult left the moment his hips slammed into yours, his hand tightening on your throat, restraining the scream that threatened to bubble out. He gave you no time to adjust, his hand leaving your throat and falling to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh so tight as he slammed into you that you knew bruises would be there by morning. 

You can’t help but glance up, fearing that any of your friends could leave the bar at any time and pass by, seeing you in the most compromising position you feel like you’ve been in. The subtle feeling that there’s a pair of eyes on the two of you grows larger while you scan around. No one has passed by the entrance, and this feeling could only be explained by you being scared of getting caught. 

Sasuke’s breathy grunts found your ears, and a pang of alarm shot right through you as he was the one making noise. The subtle sound of skin slapping skin makes you even more fearful. The coil in your stomach is already winding tight; the quieter you have to become, the more your pussy grips him. You clench around him, pussy squeezing for dear life. Your nails dig into the ground beneath you, knuckles turning white. 

“Oh, God…” You pant, dropping your head down between your shoulders. The sounds of everyone’s voices can be heard in the distance, and you try desperately to focus on anything other than the impending orgasm that’s slowly building up. 

Sasuke shifts, bringing his hand in between your legs and fingers quickly to find your clit, rubbing quick little circles. You bite down hard on your lip, the silvery taste of metallic dancing on your tongue from allowing the moan that threatened to escape. No, You won’t give him the satisfaction of making you cum, especially this fast. You grab his hand to stop his fingers and feel his hand that was once placed on your waist slide across your skin and reach back up to your throat, drawing your back flush to his chest, knees digging deeper into the gravel on the ground and seemingly reaching deeper within you, a desperate whine left your lips as your eyes faintly rolled back. “Stop me from making you cum, and I swear to god, you’re going to regret it.” He growls while tightening his grip on your throat and bringing his other hand back to your clit. His hips snapped into you even deeper while he assaulted your clit. You struggle to gasp as the coil in you snaps; your body shakes as you lean back into him more, pushing him even deeper that you swear you see stars. You spasmed as you dug your nails into the hand that held your throat while he continued to pound into you. 

He was chasing his own release, and the way he felt like you two would be caught at any moment spurred him on even more. He knew tonight was a lot, even on his standards of fucking you, but the way your pussy was fluttering around him, the deeper he got, and the rougher he became, he couldn’t stop. Your walls clenched around him, climax dragging out as your pleasure was heightened as he fucked into you; your name tumbled off of his lips before he bit into your shoulder, muffling the sinful moan he released as he came. You both fell forward, barely catching yourselves before hitting the ground, with heavy breaths syncing with one another while you catch your wit on what you two just did. 

The feeling of someone watching you never did go away. 

The angry pair of eyes attached to the redhead at the back end of the alleyway never left you two, either. 

network: @enchantedforest-network

[cobaltperun]

Tara x Fem!Reader,

They have been together for over a month now, laying in Tara's bed, watching a movie then Tara starts teasing R with cheesy pick up lines.

Like:

• Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!

• That shirt looks great on you… as a matter of fact, so would I.

• There must be a light switch on my forehead because every time I see you, you turn me on!

• There must be a light switch on my forehead because every time I see you, you turn me on!

• If your upper lip is Christmas and your lower lip is Thanksgiving, can I come visit any time in between?

Then R teases back

• I’m an adventurer and I want to explore you.

And.... don't know about the ending! I just thought this would be a fluffy/funny one shot!

Thank you so much for taking requests, it's totally okay if you don't want to do this!

Pick up

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: You and Tara can't help but be silly.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.1k

It was official, you should never pick a random movie to watch. It was cheesy, over the top acting, so bad it was actually kinda funny, oh, well, at least you were having fun laughing at how ridiculous everything was. And then it happened. The main character, whose name you'd very quickly forget went and said it. The cheesiest pick up line of them all. "I swear someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes."

The poor girl he was trying to seduce was wearing sunglasses...

Tara leaned on your shoulder, shaking with laughter as she slapped your knee. "On no! Why would he say something like that?!" she laughed so loud you were afraid Sam would barge in, and let's just say Sam wasn't all that ready to accept you and Tara were together, even though it's already been a month since you and Tara confessed your feelings for one another and started dating. It’s not that she hated you, she was just very, very careful and you still didn’t get the chance to prove you were trustworthy.

Well, considering what the two sisters went through you couldn't say you blamed Sam, if you were in her place you'd be suspicious of anyone new as well.

You worked to get Tara’s trust, and that took a lot of effort, and you’d work for Sam’s trust as well, because you were head over heels for the girl next to you.

"That was awful," you laughed with Tara and hugged her, pulling her down on the bed, the awful movie forgotten. It peaked, that was it, nothing could top the ridiculousness of that line.

"Y/N," Tara began once she caught her breath.

"Yeah?" you turned to look at her and saw the mischievous grin on her face.

"Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!" she said it all proud and eager to see your reaction and you just lost it.

"Damn it, Tara!" you snickered, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the sounds.

"I have more," she leaned in while you were still snickering. "Are you an inhaler? Because I need you to breathe," she whispered, making sure she whispered it right in your ear.

Your breath hitched for a moment as she lightly bit your earlobe. "Yeah? Are you an alarm clock? 'Cause I want you to wake me up every morning," you replied, causing her to giggle in your ear, and though you loved hearing her giggles you turned around and brushed her lips with the tip of your thumb. "Your lips look a bit dry, let me be your lip balm."

Tara grinned but leaned down to kiss you gently, she kissed you a few times, going from soft, innocent pecks, to a slow, sensual kiss.

"Mhm, if your upper lip is Christmas and your lower lip is Thanksgiving, can I come visit any time in between?" she tugged at your lower lip gently with her teeth and then kissed you again, this time slipping her tongue inside your mouth.

"No wonder the sky looks so dark, all the stars are right here," you said when you separated and moved to kiss her freckles. When you pulled away you saw her blushing, her eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

"That shirt looks great on you… as a matter of fact, so would I." she said, her hand sliding up your stomach underneath your shirt.

"Well, that escalated quickly," you grinned and pulled her so she was on top of you. "I must be ticklish, 'cause you tickled my fancy."

She snorted at that. "Got any more?" she poked your chest and smiled when you nodded.

"Apologize to polar bears. You're so hot their ice is melting," you said with a grin so cheesy you should put it on a pizza.

Tara covered her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe what you just said, but you could see the wide smile on her face. "There must be a light switch on my forehead because every time I see you, you turn me on!"

And you decided to match her. "I’m an adventurer and I want to explore you," you whispered softly in her ear and grinned as she blushed once more.

"Your battery is running low," she started laughing before she even finished saying whatever came to her mind. And with how infectious her laugh was to you you couldn't help but laugh with her. Tara laughing like this, so hard and damn near out of control, it was precious to you, and she looked even more beautiful when she laughed. "I think you should plug it in me," she exclaimed through laughter.

You choked, eyes wide and blood rushing to your face as she said that. She kept laughing but you froze completely, processing what she just said and then you just burst out laughing once more. "That was awful!" you laughed, flipping the two of you around and burying your face in her neck as you tried to stop your laughter only to fail miserably and laugh even harder.

And Tara wasn't doing any better as she gasped for air from how hard she was laughing. "Okay, yeah, I think I can't top that," she confessed as her laughter subsided.

"I can top you though," you said without missing a beat, sending both of you into another fit of laughter.

Neither of you knew that maybe, just maybe, Sam did wake up, and she was annoyed at first, but hearing Tara laughing the way she was right now... well, it made her accept you a bit more. You were making Tara much happier than she was in a long time, and for now that enough for Sam to at least stop glaring at you. She wouldn’t trust you just yet, but it truly looked like you loved Tara with all your heart.

Tara certainly loved you back. Ever since you and her got together Tara laughed more, and she laughed harder than she ever did before getting together with you. You were good for Tara, and Sam could only hope that it was genuine, because she could see it, she knew Tara let you in completely.

“I love you,” she heard your muffled confession and she could imagine Tara smiling, so, with Tara telling you she loved you too, Sam went back to her bedroom.

A/N: Damn, this was fun to write, hope you enjoyed this half as much as I enjoyed writing this 😁😁

[ruins-of-babylon]

𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲

♥︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Mattheo Riddle x reader 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎：in search of the perfect way to mess with Theodore Nott, his enemy, Mattheo Riddle decides he needs to win over his girlfriend, who just so happens to be you 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：toxic!theo, kinda abusive relationship between reader and Theo, mentions of fighting and blood, smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, cheating both ways, lmk if I missed anything MDNI!!! 🔞🔞

It was no secret that you and Theo were dating. The promise ring he gave you was beautiful, and caught your relationship lots of attention. Or maybe it was the hickeys that seemed to be permanently marked on the skin of your neck, the giver obvious to anyone who saw you two walking together. Theo always had his arm around your neck or waist, occasionally holding hands, walking you to each class and kissing you deeply before letting you go, for anyone to see.

Your peers would talk about you two, naming you the best couple of their year, saying how they envied your so called love. Little did they know how Theo would control your every action, word, and emotion. He carefully prepared how he would carry your books, and kiss you in the halls. How you two would walk together, attend parties held in the common room together, study together, everything you needed to say to keep the image he created. After all, he had the girl everyone wanted, so he needed to show off his prized possession. Even the hickeys he gave you were planned, for fucks sake!

When you dragged your body into your bed every night, feeling the smooth material of your sheets, you would think about how nothing felt real to you. It felt like a trap. Each night you conjured up a version of Theo that you had fallen in love with to keep you sane. Instead of controlling, he was so deeply in love with you that he needed to be with you all the time. In your little fantasy he actually loved you and everything was okay. As that image played in your mind, you would fall asleep.

Mattheo Riddle saw through his facade, however. He saw the fake, plastic-seeming image he had made for himself. He and Theo had hated each other for a few years, after a series of fights and arguments. Theo had this habit of insulting his name and who his father was, stealing his weed several times, and tricking Mattheo’s ex-girlfriend into having sex with him. So, of course his mind was filled with ideas for revenge when he found out Theo was cheating on his girlfriend. One night, at a party in the Slytherin common room, a very drunk Lorenzo spilled Theo’s biggest secret: he would drive a few hours to meet up with different girls, fuck them, then come back to kiss his girlfriend’s cheek, whispering how he loved her. Mattheo willed himself to keep a straight face. Surrounded by vibrant green light, his house’s colour, he gently pushing past Lorenzo to find Theo. His step was slightly off, his vision blurring a bit as he looked around. Although his eyes weren’t exactly providing a perfectly clear view, he spotted Theo’s figure, a distinctive shape in his mind. His hair, sharp cheekbones that were accentuated by the contrasting lighting, and height seemed to be easily distinguishable from everyone else, at least to Mattheo.

Once he laid his eyes on his enemy, he quickly manoeuvred his way through the crowd, feeling another surge of determination run through him when he saw you on his arm. He stopped in his tracks, a sudden logic changing his plan. He quickly turned and retreated to his dorm to formulate a map of what he would do. He needed to hit Theo hard, right where it hurt.

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Potions was not your favorite class by a long shot. Nothing ever made any sense to you, the instructions on the book refusing to transfer to your mind. The potions you made were always far from what they were supposed to be, if they hadn’t already exploded or evaporated. Mattheo happened to be in the same class as you, and after his new found information, he noticed you in many of his classes. He would watch you as you frustratedly huffed and groaned, adding ingredients into your cauldron. He laughed to himself, and as you turned to look at him with a glare on your face, he knew it was time to put his plan into motion.

He set his potion making aside and took long strides to get to your table directly in front of his own. He placed his forearm on the table to lean on while facing you.

“Not doing too good, are you sweetheart?” He asked, a smirk gracing his features. He gained a special confidence whenever he talked to girls, sure in his attractiveness. You knew about the conflict between your boyfriend and Mattheo, but he was always friendly to you, despite your position in his enemy’s life, so you had nothing against him. “No. I swear to god, my book is in another language.” You sighed, trying to seem nice. You smiled when he did, noting how pretty it was. “You know, I can help you if you want. This is my best class.” He offered, inching closer to you.

“Really? That would be lovely.” You replied. You were surprised to hear that. Everyone knew Mattheo was not a good student. He nodded, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, the bell rung and Theo came marching into the room, looking for you. He always got out of his classes early to go to yours, waiting to escort you to your next destination. Mattheo smirked as he made eye contact with him, ready to face whatever Theo could do. He was almost running towards you, your expression shocked as your heart pounded in your chest. You had only witnessed a few of their fights, surely only a small fraction of them, but each one you saw was brutal, only ending when both of them were bleeding profusely. Theo didn’t say anything, and neither did Mattheo, just staring at each other. Theo must have understood the look Mattheo was trying to convey with his eyes, a look of knowing, a threat. You watched in fear as they kept eye contact, waiting for the inevitable first punch.

Suddenly Theo brought his eyes to you as you packed up your things, taking them from you. He slightly raised his hand and you flinched to cover your face, and he grabbed your wrist tightly and pulled you with him. Mattheo stood there as you walked away, replaying the image in his head of the way you flinched at Theo’s movement. Another layer worked itself into his plan as he watched you two leave. He felt like he needed to save you. He moved back to his table and packed his things before heading to his next class, which you happened to share.

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In class, he didn’t see you. You didn’t even come in late. Mattheo was a little suspicious, his mind wandering to the possibilities of what was going on with you. His first thought was that you and Theo were fucking, but that shifted to Theo yelling at you, lecturing you about not talking to his enemy. He briefly thought about Theo possibly hurting you, remembering how you flinched like he was going to hit you. He decided he was going to check on you when he could, explaining the idea to himself, saying it would help him get in your pants.

In the mean time, he tried to entertain himself by throwing paper planes at unsuspecting peers.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

A few days later, Mattheo still waited to take action. When you had classes together, you avoided him, when he tried to talk to you, you kept it small. You didn’t show it on your face, but it sent a pang to your heart whenever he tried to talk to you. You felt rude, especially after he was nice to you.

Theo had given you strict instructions to not speak to Mattheo, and you obeyed to some extent. You decided that you wouldn’t ignore him if he talked to you, but that was as far as it would go.

Whenever he talked to you, he was very sweet. Always offering you something and smiling. You wondered what the sudden change was in his new interest in your company. You were wary of what he might be planning, but after a while you stopped the investigation and started enjoyed spending time with him. He kept good on his word and helped you in potions, which you appreciated, and always passed notes to you in class, as well as always offering to partner with you for every project or assignment. You slowly grew fond of him, feeding into his plan unknowingly.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

As a few weeks went by as Mattheo’s friend, so came the weekends. This was when Theo would leave for almost all of Saturday and Sunday, claiming he was out drinking and hanging out with friends. In reality, he was meeting with the girls he regularly hooked up with. You never suspected that of him, because you trusted him, and the way he would control you led you to believe he was solely invested in you. While Theo spend most of his time with you, he also had a life outside of your relationship. He would hang out with his friends, causing trouble and creating problems. He got into a lot of fights and got blackout drunk regularly, which you hated, but knew you couldn’t change. He lived wildly, reckless. But it was all just a cover up.

You were staying in Theo’s room this weekend, as he requested, reading on his bed when you heard knocking on the door. You got up to walk to the door, practicing how you would greet this person and explain that Theo was gone during the short walk. You were surprised to open the door and see Mattheo, but still gave him the practiced speech.

“Theo isn’t here, but I can tell him you stopped by.” You offered, still holding the door open to show him you were the only one there.

“Oh, I know.” He smirked, gently walking forward to get into the room. You let him in and closed the door behind you, curious about why he was here.

“What’s up?” You asked, standing and facing him.

He took a few seconds before answering, slowly pulling his body to yours. You took a step back for every one he took forward, slowly backing yourself into the door.

“I wanted to see you.” He drawled, still stepping towards you. He braced his hands on both sides of you, trapping you between his arms. “Can I touch you, baby?” He asked, noting your heavy breathing and the blush on your cheeks.

“You know I have a boyfriend.” Was all you could say. You had to admit, he was very handsome. But so was Theo. You debated your options. You had wanted to break up with Theo for a while, but was this the right way to do that?

“Yes.” You said, confident in your decision.

He gently grabbed your face, caressing your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat at his other hand reached for your waist, massaging the skin under your shirt.

”What are you doing?” You asked. You were afraid to touch him, your body stiff in his grasp. Even as he caressed your soft skin, you felt shy.

“Mmm.” Was all he said before starting to kiss your neck. You moaned as soon as you felt his lips on your throat, your touch starved body finally melting into his touch. You grasped your skirt in your hands as he continued to kiss you.

He laughed as he heard you, starting to suck the soft skin under his lips. Everything he did was so slow, making you crave him more and more. You brought your hands up to hold the back of his neck, rubbing the area under your thumbs.

“I bet he doesn’t fuck you.” He said teasingly, breathing the words into your skin.

“He does.” You shakily protest, trying not to moan again as he softly bit down. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Theo had sex, however. Actually, you could. You recall how he made you suck his dick before fucking you, not making you cum once.

“Really? Because your body is telling me otherwise.” He cockily replied, bringing his face from your neck to finally face you. You groaned when he moved his lips from you, only spurring him on.

“Please, Mattheo.” You whispered, looking into his eyes. You felt slightly embarrassed at his discovery.

“Please what? Actually make you cum? Give your pretty pussy some release? Make you feel good?” He asked, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. You whined against him, tired of the teasing and unsure of what to say. You wanted him so bad now, but you already had Theo. What would he think about you fucking his enemy? You debated the different options in your head, chewing on your lip.

“Use your words, princess.” He said, biting your lip gently. You moaned, finally giving in.

“Please make me cum. Theo never has.” You laugh, thinking of how unskilled he was. He laughed too, and brought his hand under your skirt.

“When I do, you’ll be mine.” He says before sliding his hand into your underwear and gently rubbing his finger through your folds. You moaned and tightly grabbed his shoulders as he found your clit and very softly rubbed it, the pad of his finger barely touching you.

“Can you say that for me? Say you’ll be mine, then I’ll make you come.” He says, holding you still as you tried to grind down on his hand. You whine again, looking into his eyes.

“I’ll be yours. Please.” You said, giving him what he wanted. He groaned at your words, finally putting pressure on your clit, slowly circling it. You let out a little sound of pleasure at the action, your head falling back onto the door with a thud. As his thumb played with the bundle of nerves, his index finger slowly trailed down to tease your hole. You clenched when you felt him there, and he let out a soft chuckle when he felt your movement.

“Needy, are we?” He playfully asked, slowly inserting his finger into you. You moaned and clenched around his finger as he held it still inside you.

“Please, Mattheo.” You moaned out again, filled with need and lust. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to release every rub of your clit and thrust of his finger. You clenched around it again, trying to distract yourself from the strong sensation.

“I’ll do whatever you ask. Just say the word, gorgeous.” He groaned against you, imagining what your cunt would feel like around his dick. He continued his movements, slowly adding his middle finger into your entrance, preparing you for his cock. You could barely take one of his fingers, so getting a second one in was a struggle. You whined in discomfort at the additional stretch, leaning your head into his neck and biting the collar of his shirt.

“I know it hurts, but I need to warm you up for my dick, love.” He explained. The thought made you shiver. You hadn’t been fucked good in months, and Mattheo seemed promising so far. You slowly felt your climax approaching as the pain subsided to pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon.” You told him, moving your face to kiss his neck. The moan he let out at your kiss spurred you on as you started to leave a hickey on the supple skin. “Yes, mark me.” He stated, relishing in your company. He felt lucky that he got to fuck you, a stunning, funny, sweet witch. He felt his member twitch in his pants at the thought.

“I’m cumming.” You breathed out as you released in his fingers. He stopped his movements after he thought you were completely finished, collecting your cum on his fingers before slowly pulling them out. He looked at the mess covering his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste your juices. You eagerly watched as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue, and he smirked when he saw you watching. He pulled away from you briefly to undress, and you followed suit, both of you naked and staring at each other.

“You’re so beautiful my dear.” He said, holding your hand. You smiled at him, pulling him closer to kiss his lips.

Without a word, he lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist and manoeuvred his dick to your sweet cunt. You both watched as your bodies connected, his tip slowly disappearing past your folds. It hurt for a bit, your body stretching to fit him, and he waited patiently for your cue to move. When you opened your eyes and looked at him pleadingly, he knew you were ready.

He started thrusting at a steady pace, watching your expressions and body to try to understand you. When he saw no sign of distress, he started to move faster. Your body was banging against the surface of the door as he fucked you, feeling pure bliss. When he hit a particular spot deep inside you, you let out a loud moan, tightly gripping the back of his head between your fingers.

“Did that feel good? Is that your favorite spot?” He asked, intentionally trying to angle himself to hit it again and again.

You could only nod, your mouth open while releasing pleasured sounds. Every time he hit it, you would reward him with sharp squeals and a few clenches around his cock.

He started rubbing your clit, adding to the building pleasure inside you.

“I’m so close, baby. Are you?” He breathed out between pants, and you could feel it. The muscles of his abs clenched under you and his dick twitching inside you.

“Mhm.” Was all you could muster, his movements blocking your thoughts from becoming words. As he watched you, sweat falling down your face, mouth open, letting out continuous moans and sighs, he could only think about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, please.” You shouted as you did just that, releasing around his cock. He grunted and came with you, filling you up and placing his forehead on yours. You breathed in sync for a while before you kissed him deeply. He groaned into your mouth, roaming his hands around your body. Almost reluctantly, he pulled you off of him and set you down.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. Your legs felt a little wobbly as you followed him. Once in the bathroom, he reached to grab a towel and wet it. When he turned back to you, he watched as his cum dripped out of you and down your leg. You followed his gaze and laughed softly as he groaned.

“You don’t know how hot that is, darling.” He said, rubbing his hand over his face. He focused himself and bent down so he was face to face with your legs, and wiped away the evidence of his pleasure. You smiled down at him, gently grabbing his hair. You could get used to this.

_________________ This is my first post on this app, so I know it’s probably not the best. Please let me know any writing tips or errors I made or anything. I hope you enjoyed!

[citruswriter]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Comfort fic of THe Hazbin Crew (Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Lucifer, etc.) x Reader, where they're not having the best, probably the worst day actually, and they get some comfort and hugs from reader, the feel goods~?

Hazbin Hotel x Reader Having a Bad Day

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, angst?, kinda open ended.

A/N: I'm assuming you didn't have the best day? :(( If so then I'm so sorry love and I hope you enjoy this. Lemme know if you want a pt 2 with the angels and Vees!

It was a horrible day. More horrible than any of the other horrible days you've ever had. And that's saying something. So after a long day, you had returned to your humble abode to cry it out. On the way, you caught the eye of a certain someone...

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Lucifer x Reader 🧡

A knock was heard at your door and you groaned. "Go away Charlie!" You shouted out as you heard the door crack open. "Um... actually it's me, but I can still go if you want me too". Mumbled a voice. You immediately sat up and turned around. "Sir! I'm so sorry". You sniffed. Lucifer studied your face, gaze softened as he stepped closer. "Dear what happened?" He asked, hands hesitantly reaching up to touch your face. Your eyes widened at the question, lip trembling once more as you sobbed out. "It was a horrible day! Like, I know it's hell but fuck! It was just so bad." You wailed. Lucifer jumped up on the bed beside you, reaching out to you and drawing you in his arms to give you a tight hug.

You hugged him tightly, burying your face in his shoulder and crying out everything. He just sat there, thumb rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. Eventually your sobs quieted down, and you pulled back slightly, sniffling and hiccuping. "Sorry, Sir..." You said and Lucifer just smiled at you. "No need to apologize. And please, call me Lucifer. Come. Let's get you cleaned up". He gently took your hand and drug you to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth as you sat down. He took the cloth to your face, wiping your bleary eyes and wet cheeks. "Thank you... I-I, um, I didn't expect the King of Hell to be washing my tears away". You said, offering a pathetic laugh. He just clicked his tongue and waved a hand. "Think nothing of it, my dear! A friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine!" He said with a grin.

You looked down bashfully, smiling shyly but he grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to continue cleaning you. You felt your face flush at the action. He laughed softly, seeming to pick up on your flusteredness. "You know... If you're feeling up for it," he began, eyes looking around the room, "I've been told I make excellent pancakes". You giggle softly in response, causing the man to give his own shy smile. "I think I'd really like that... Lucifer."

Eyes met, gazes held, tension rose. You could stay like this...

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Alastor x Reader 🧡

You threw yourself onto your bed, sobbing into your pillow. "You know, a frown doesn't suit your pretty face". Said a voice. You screamed and almost fell off your bed as you whipped around to stare at Alastor. The red demon just chuckled at you, smile grinning a little wider. "Haha. Not fucking funny Al". You glared, propping yourself up on an elbow. "But it got you to stop crying". He pointed out and you scoffed, even though you knew he was right.

"What even happened, my dear?" He asked, hands resting on his cane, his gaze softening ever so slightly. A detail one wouldn't notice unless they were looking for it. You sighed and rolled onto your back. "Just a stressful day is all." You said softly, rubbing your wet eyes. The man hummed softly, seeming to think before turning to you more. "You know, it's almost time for my radio show. Would you like to join me?" He asked and you looked over at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh... Sure, that would be nice actually". You replied gently and he outstretched a hand to you to help you raise from the bed.

You trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he led you to his office. You entered as quietly as you could, standing as you watched him start to set up. "Where should I sit?" You asked softly and Alastor blinked, seeming to remember that his shack really was only built for him. But with a snap of his fingers, his shadows conjured up a plush red couch and you happily sat down on the comfortable little couch. You continued to watch him as he flipped switches and turned knobs. "Stay quiet for me while I broadcast, ok fawn?" He said and you just nodded.

A few hours later Alastor finished. He stood up and stretched. Looking over at you, he saw your sleeping figure. He didn't wish to rouse you so he simply took his coat and draped it over you. You hummed in your sleep, curling up into the fabric. Alastor couldn't help but feel warmed by the unconscious action.

What a peculiar little creature you were.

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Charlie x Reader 🧡

A knock came at your door. "(Y/N)? Hey you good in there?" Charlie's worried voice came. You didn't answer, only sobbed into your pillow. Gentle hands came to rub your back and you sniffed, lifting your head to look at the hellborn. You didn't even hear her open your door. "Hey. Talk to me, what happened?" He cooed, a hand reaching up to cradle your face, thumb swiping to wipe away some tears. You whimpered and leaned into your touch. "It was just a bad day, Charlie. That's all".

She smiled gently, seeming to understand. "Well scoot over! Your bed looks comfy!" She chirped and you couldn't help but giggle, rolling over to make room for her. She flopped onto your bed and sighed. "Wow. Your blankets are super comfy." She said, flashing her beautiful smile your way. You softly smiled and shrugged. "They were on sale when I got em". You said simply.

She rolled to look at you. "Hi". She said softly and you felt your face heat up. "Hey". You murmured back. Her hands came up to cradle your fave once more. "You better now?" She asked softly, her heart seeming to flutter as she watched you bite your lip and meet her eyes. "It's hard to stay sad around Miss Rainbows and Sunshine". You said, tone teasing. She giggled, her own cheeks heating up. "You flatter me". She giggled, making you smile.

Charlie looked at you curiously. What was she feeling right now? It couldn't be what she thought it was. Was it...?

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Vaggie x Reader 🧡

"Alright. Who am I killing?" A voice came, cutting through your whirling thoughts. "Everybody!" You wailed as you rolled over, hugging your pillow. Vaggie gave an empathetic smile before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Just one of those days?" She asked and you nodded. She sighed and scooted up a bit more. "I'm not as great as this as Charlie is, but do you need a hug?" She asked. You sniffed and looked up at her, nodding softly.

You crawled over to her and she gave you a tight hug, fingers moving up to your hair to scratch at your scalp for a few moments. "Is that better?" She murmured. "Yeah. Thanks". You replied, wiping your face. "Uh, here". She grabbed a tissue from your bedside and began wiping your face and eyes awkwardly. "Sorry. This usually isn't my thing". She admitted with a chuckle. You giggled and grabbed her spare hand, holding it in hers. "That's ok, Vaggie. I appreciate you trying". You said.

Vaggie felt her cheeks flush and she smiled bashfully, gently pulling her hand to her heart. "Ah, look at you. Comforting me. I'm supposed to be comforting you right now." She said and you laughed softly, resting your head on her shoulder.

You gazed at her softly and she felt her heart flutter. What were you doing to her? What was she feeling?

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Angel Dust x Reader 🧡

"Aye toots. Ya good? You ran by me without giving me a hello kiss". He said, tone light and playful. You looked up to glare at him. "Fuck off, Angel". You scowled and his whole facial expression immediately changed. "Oh shit. You ok, sugar?" He asked, rushing to your side. You sobbed out and shook your head. Angel wrapped you up in his arms, holding you tightly and whispering sweet things to you. Eventually you calmed down, hiccups leaving your mouth as you pulled back to wipe your face.

"Come on. Let's clean you up." Angel led you to your vanity, sitting you down and brushing your hair back. He took a face wipe and wiped you down. Two of his hands went to play with your hair while his other two hands went to grab some lotion to moisturize your cheeks. "There. All better." He cooed, standing up before tilting your head up to kiss your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes before gently resting your chin on his stomach, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him.

Angel felt his face heat up as he gently cradled your face. "Seriously though, who am I shootin?" He said and you laughed. "Nobody Angie. It's just been a bad day". You muttered. Your hands reached up to hold his other two hands.

He was so warm. So gentle. This was nice.

*. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ *

Husk x Reader 🧡

A knock echoed through your room and you sniffed. "Fuck off, Charlie!" You shouted and you heard a scoff. "I definitely ain't no Charlie. But if you want her, I can go grab her". A voice came. You groaned and sat up to glare at the cat demon now in your room. "What do you want Husk?" You hissed out. You really didn't need his ass judging you right now. But to your surprise, he just pulled out two glasses and a bottle of some sort of alcohol. "Heard you crying. I'm not good with emotions but I am good at listening". He said with a shrug.

The next hour was filled with you just venting to him about your shitty day. Sometimes he would fill either yours or his glass and before long you had calmed down, although you were also tipsy now. "I know it's hell but shit." You muttered and Husk gave a chuckle. "Ah you'll be ok. You're stronger than you think you are." He said with a smile.

You looked up at him and laughed softly. "Thanks Husk. You always know what to say. I think you're better with emotions than you think". You chuckled softly. Husk felt his cheeks heat up under his fur and his chest tighten, but not in a bad way.

Well aren't you something?

*. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ *

Amunet x Reader 🧡

A/N: Why yes. Yes I am inserting my own OC with a background character face claim. Fight me.

"(Y/N)? Hey, you ok?" A soft voice came. You heard your door crack open. "Can I come in?" You pondered her request for a moment before sighing and rolling over. "Yeah, I guess so". You replied. Amunet opened the door and upon seeing your crying face, her gaze instantly softened. "What happened?" She asked softly, approaching the bed. You sat up, sitting close to the edge. "It was just a shitty day. Just a bunch of things added up". You explained. She got up on the bed with you. "Oh habibi". She cooed softly, drawing you into her warm embrace.

"Cry as much as you need, ruhee. I'm here. I've got you". You couldn't help but let the flood gates open as you ugly cried into her shoulder. One of her hands patted your back while the other held firm to your hip. Eventually you calmed down, face nuzzling into her shoulder as you hiccuped. "Are you better, habibi?" She asked gently, pulling you back to look at your face. "Oh dear, look at you."

She left before you could reply to her question. A few minutes passed and she came back with a wash cloth and a cup of water. "Hydrate. You cried a lot". She said, handing you the glass before hurrying off to your bathroom to wet the rag. "Thank you, Amunet". You croaked but she waved her hand, sitting back down to wipe your face. "Think nothing of it, albee". She soothed.

She smiled under her mask as you closed your eyes in content. You nuzzled into her wrist as she wiped at your tear stained cheeks, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks. Weren't you just such a cutie?

This took me all day to write bc my coworker and I kept talking shit all day. Lmfao. But enjoy.

[reidmania]

Could you do a Derek Morgan x reader fic where they are soulmates and the reader is a Detective on a case?

unprofessional | derek morgan

summary ; when derek meets the detective on a case, he can’t help but feel a draw towards her — its unprofessional.

warnings; detective!fem!reader! mentions murder and rape, normal cm stuff. flirty flirty.

an ; i kinda hated how this turned out bc it was just not right whatsoever and i feel like i completely flunked the request but i can def rewrite it if u want!!

Your hands bushed over the case files as you set them down on the table, you were engrossed in a conversation with a police officer. You had been called in to help with a case along side the FBI BAU — yet they weren’t here yet.

Or so you thought, although you stood corrected when there was a knock at the door of the conference room you were standing in, turning around at the sound you looked up.

“Hello, Im Agent Aaron Hotchner from the bau” The male introduced, stepping inside the room, you watched as their team found there way in, shaking hands with the officer each, besides one guy who you had learnt the name of — Spencer Reid.

“This is our detective on the case” The officer introduced you before you took over, telling them your name and last name as you went down the line shaking each of their hands, skipping over Spencer — instead opting for a little wave out of respect.

You breath caught in your throat as you looked at the guy standing next to him — to say he was stunning was an understatement. You instantly felt the urge to gush about how he looked like a work of art — but you opted for keeping in professional.

“Derek Morgan” He introduced as he held his hand out, you wasted no time placing your hand into his, it consumed all your focus for a moment as you focused on the every rough callous in his soft hands, you could feel the indent on his trigger finger as it rested against the palm of your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said, once you regained your focus enough — you were glad it was quick enough— before the hand shake got too long and slightly awkward.

He shot a toothy grin in your direction as you stepped back, leaning against the conference table as you looked over the team, but your eyes kept wandering back to Derek Morgan.

“The case?” Hotch asked, stepping forward, instantly his team followed his movement, making themselves comfortable in the room to which they’d be spending a lot of time in.

“Two murders, both female victims. They were raped before their murders and both killed in the same way, a slit throat” You partly cringed as the image flooded your mind before you could stop it.

“Any similarities between the two victims?” Spencer spoke up, the officer looked over at you, making you stand quietly as you took the floor.

You had been working closely with the crime scene over the last few days before the bau were called in. You had taken notice of everything, every detail, everything there was to notice — you’d notice it.

“Physically, no. Expect they both had evident birth marks, ones easy to be seen, on arms or shoulders — it may be nothing but that was the only physical similarity besides them both being seemingly attractive” You walked around the table over to the board to hang up a few photos, close ups of the birth marks.

“And we are sure this is the same unsub?” You smiled when Derek spoke — not in a way that questioned your abilities but more pure curiosity to how you had gotten to that answer:

You nodded “Yep” popping the P in the end of your sentence as you held up a few more photos, sticking them to the whiteboard. “He left the name note next to their bodies, signed it off with a signature.” You said.

Emily chewed at her lip as she looked over the photo. “It looks printed” She noticed, a few of the other members looked over the photo at her notice.

“Exactly — but not fake, it’s a real signature. We did some digging — Well I did.” You muttered before opening a different case, you wet your thumb as you flicked through pages of paper, before pulling out a couple different sheets, placing them on the table for the agents to look over.

“Three online purchases were made with that signature.. on the same illegal website” You muttered as you flicked through some more paper. “Where he brought a knife from — the same sort of knife found used for the girls deaths, pharmaceuticals but like heavy ones — id say the names but im sure i’d just screw it up” You muttered as you placed the receipt on the table.

“It looks like you got this all figured out girly, what do you need us for” Derek asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back in his chair. You smiled widely at his comment, it felt complementary.

“Well as great as I am” You played along, “Im no fbi profiler. I don’t know who we are looking for, I just wanted to make your job as easy as possible” You smiled.

Derek smiled back just as widely, “Got anything else for us pretty?” He asked.

“Morgan” Hotch’s tone was laced with warning.

You knew what it was; it was the stop flirting tone.

“It’s okay” You nodded to Hotch, “I do actually” You said, leaning back against the whiteboard against the wall as you looked back at Derek. “The crime scenes were very similar but not close — distance wise. They both were in public area’s on the side of the road and both victims weren’t found until early mornings, but had been dead for nearly ten hours previously” You explained.

“So he dropped them during the night?” Elle asked, you nodded. “Well I assume so” You shrugged.

“Anything else?” Hotch asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked over the pages you had placed on the table.

“Yes — grains of the same coffee brand were found on the girls shirts and in their hair. Theres only one coffee shop that sells those beans but that is nearly an hour away from where the victims were found.”

“So either we have a coffee enthusiast who drives an hour for a specific brand of coffee, or someone who lives closer to the shop.” Spencer said, frowning slightly as he tried to think about all the possibilities.

“Coffee enthusiasts? You aren’t the unsub are you?” Derek asked, nudging Spencer’s side slightly, making you smile as Spencer took offence.

“Ill leave you guys be” You smiled as you excused yourself from the room, leaving to do another sweep of the crime scenes just to see if there was anything you missed.

It wasn’t until two days later you were back, you were instantly met with the smell of fresh coffee as you walked into the conference room to find it empty, besides Derek Morgan sitting there.

“Hey pretty, how’d ya go” He asked, sipping the cup of coffee in his hands as he leant back in his chair. You chuckled at the nickname before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“Yeah— nothing new, which I expected because I don’t miss things” You sighed dramatically, your tone was evidence of the cockiness being a joke.

Derek beamed back at you. “I believe you. You had me fooled, i was questioning why we came here.” He teased lightly.

“Oh but Im no profiler, just a detective” You said, as if it was such a comparison. He chuckled lightly, “They aren’t all that different, im sure you could’ve figured this one out on your own — I think you just wanted the bau to come out so you could see me.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

You genuinely chuckled, “Oh no!!- you caught me. Derek Morgan — my hero” You played into his teasing meeting your match, placing your hand against your chest speaking with dramatic admiration.

He just grinned, “Where is everyone?” You asked, looking around the room.

“Who knows” He shrugged, before shaking his head “Nah- They went out to interview the victims families.” He said once he actually processed your question.

You nodded your head opening the casefile to read over it again, it was a habit you adapted to early in your career. It was easy to miss little things, and it was your job not to miss them.

“You all good?”?” Derek asked, you looked up for a moment noticing his eyes boring into yours — you wondered if he ever looked away once you did, or if his gaze stayed on you, his forearms were resting against the conference table.

You nodded your head, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Im all good.. Why? Do I not look all good” You asked, slightly worried maybe you came across upset or something — you weren’t. You were actually completely content

“No you look very good”

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, making you shake your head, pulling away from his gaze as a smile tugged on the corner of your lips. “You’re a sweet talker.” You muttered.

He grinned widely as he leant back in his chair. “Yeah? Is it working?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Your stomach tugged slightly — you weren’t the type to get nervous nor intimidated yet you could feel your cheeks heating.

“Are you flirting with me, Agent Morgan?” You eyes flicked away from file, back up to meet his eyes, your eyes lingered on his own for a moment.

He shrugged, “Would that be unprofessional?” He asked, clocking his eyebrow as his head tilted to the side, you watched as his eyes trailed over his face.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think we both knew the answer to that.” You reminded. Although you knew in the back of your mind, it was one case.

He hummed in reply but his eyes never left your face. “Okay.” He nodded, before sitting up a bit straighter, rubbing his hand gently over his lip before leaning forward against the table.

You smile, tilting your head the opposite direction that his was slightly tilted — there was something so enchanting about the way he looked at you, like there was something he couldn’t get out of his mind. — like he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

“Do we care that it’s unprofessional?” He asked, your eyes traveled slightly down his face as the question brought heat to your cheeks. Over the last couple of days there had been a lot of subtle and not so subtle flirting between the two of you, sometimes it wasn’t even intentional. you two just had such good banter.

“Do we?” You asked, not quite sure what to say. You didn’t entirely care, it was for one case that was almost completely solved anyways, but there was a look on your face that showed your evident doubt — it was unprofessional and there was an underlying amount of guilt that you buried, it was unprofessional and you carried yourself on being professional.

He seemed to notice, he didn’t push, or blame, instead he just smiled sweetly at you. “I think we might, just a little bit” He said. You appreciated the way he didn’t single you out.

You didn’t know what to say as you looked over his features, the way he grinned with such expression, the smile on his face matching his eyes.

“So..” He said, clapping his hands together. “To be completely professional.. How about once we finish this date I take you out.” He said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.

You smiled widely at his suggestion, respecting your boundaries while maintaining the banter and interest between you two — All while asking you out.

“I’d like that.”

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[ariseur]

hello!! i was wondering if u could a little something where the reader is an artist. they draw very good. so megumi finds her sketchbook sitting sitting on the readers bed and it’s opened to a page with drawings of megumi. he looks thru it and sees everyone from jujutsu high in there as well. reader catches him and gets a little shy. it can be written in whatever form u want. if u want to write it. no biggie if u don’t. thank you!!! love ur work ❤️❤️

LINES OF LOVE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - this was meant to be a blurb but it ended up being a whole fic lolol. i hope you enjoyed, this request was super cute i just hope i wrote it well 😭🫶

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - mentions of megumi kinda snooping in your book despite feeling guilty, you’re friends with yuuji n nobara ( and megumi ), reader is a student at jujutsu high, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything (•̀ᴗ•́)و

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 2483 words, 13372 characters

eyes of jade followed your hands, one clutching your sketchbook as the other moved with the flow of your hand while it gripped the wooden pencil. megumi watched as your eyes darted all over the paper book as his head tilted to the side the slightest bit. he admired you in all your glory, basking in the presence of the sun; your feet propped up on the bleachers, ears mindlessly picking up the bickering of yuuji and nobara fighting about only lord knows what on the race track.

you occasionally looked up at them, hair bobbing as your head whipped back up. as per usual, he observed you — taking in your gestures or small habits you didn’t even know you did, like putting the pencil and holding it in between your teeth momentarily as you thought. after that, your eyes would light right back up and put the graphite to the paper once again. megumi had always wondered what caught your eye, maybe the pretty scenery surrounding the school or your friends ( who were currently fighting over whether ana de armas was attractive or not ), no matter how stupid they seemed to be — you always saw the best in them. megumi noticed that. megumi noticed everything.

he also noticed the way you tilted your head up at him when you had caught him staring at you.

alas, his thoughts were interrupted as nobara stomped her way over to him, poking at his chest as yuuji covered his line of view before they interrogated him, asking who he thought was the hottest celebrity. he huffed at that, eyes narrowing at the two of them as your face was drowned out by their endless whining and shoving.

“i don’t care,” he gritted his teeth.

“eh? what do you mean you don’t care?“ yuuji‘s brows furrowed even more at his answer, only to be elbowed by nobara. “this is a very important question. what, are you gay or somethin’?”

“hey, what’s wrong with being gay?”

“nothing—! he just won’t answer!” she pushed yuuji at his stupid question again, the two butting heads with each other as megumi pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up. he squeezed himself by yuuji as him and nobara bantered on and on about their previous conversation, only to find no sign of you anywhere. his lips twitched into a small pout as his eyes scanned the field, only barren grass and the track to be seen. megumi let out a small, exasperated groan as kugisaki tugged on the neck of his uniform with a firm, “oi, where’re you going?”

megumi began to take in all of your little habits after that point, his gaze always managing to fall upon you to see what you were doing. you guys talked during class sometimes too, maybe an invite to spar with each other or to settle an agreement between him and itadori — so it wasn’t like you two weren’t familiar with each other. it was more like you yourself made your attempts to be more acquainted with megumi, which he did appreciate considering he wasn’t exactly the most . . amiable.

he noticed your efforts of not-so-subtly scooting over towards him, so close your knees practically touched as he tensed at the sudden contact before you would ask him how his day would go. even if he only gave few, curt responses, you persevered and smiled at him whilst you made progress within these chats.

your behavior went on for a few more days, the way you’d always clutch your book so protectively in your hands as your hand flowed along the pages. he had his suspicions of your muses, seeing as how you’d focus on him or certain curses you’d look at from afar for a little bit too long — megumi wasn’t dumb, the only thing he couldn’t understand was why. why you bothered to allow yourself be caught in the realities of the world, capturing them in your drawings.

and then came the end of saturday, the sun a warm glow as it bounced off of your back. you huffed, bumping hips with kugisaki as you walked along the sidewalk back to the school. yuuji and megumi strayed behind the two of you, walking in silence as your breathy giggles filled the air. debriefing the mission, nobara replayed the fight through her head as she mimicked some of the movements you did, bragging on about how cool it was while she made animated fight noises.

“fushiguro? what’re you looking at?” he snapped out of his inner monologue at the sound of yuuji’s voice, questioning what megumi was so intently looking at. brown eyes following his gaze, he looked at you; then back at megumi, then back at you, and back at him. he gasped a bit before megumi hit the back of his head and signaled for him to shut up.

“are you—“

“shut up.”

your head turned around before your eyes narrowed at the sight; yuuji hunched over clutching his head as megumi remained unfazed as usual. you cocked your head, “you okay?”

itadori looked up at you and looked back at fushiguro before beginning to nod his head in affirmation. nobara scoffed, “did you not just see him earlier? i think he can handle something that small.”

“just because i’m strong doesn’t mean i don’t get hurt!”

“you got thrown into a wall by a curse and got back up right afterwards.”

a hand flew up to your mouth to conceal your smile as you snorted at their replaying of the assignment as well. megumi stared at you again, ears perking up and attuning to your giggles. your eyes flickered between the pair before they set on the raven haired boy who’s head was tilted down at the pavement, hands shoved in the uniform’s pockets. your voice called out to him so sweetly as you acknowledged him, “megumi, are you okay?”

he looked up at you, shoulders stiffening at the sound of you saying his name. he muttered out a small, “yeah,” before looking away into the distance — his face engulfed by the gleams of amber provided so gracefully from the sun, highlighting the swirls of color in his eyes. your lips twitched upwards in a meager smile even when he wasn’t looking at you ( though he could still see you out of his peripheral, it made him feel weird and gooey although he’d die before admitting it ), before turning your head and focusing on your way back.

nobara and yuuji shared a look at you two, the first name catching them off guard as their eyes narrowed in skepticism. they shrugged and merely kept walking, talking about what shenanigans gojo’s gonna pull in the next day or two. megumi didn’t pay them any mind, though — the only thing he looked at after they all looked away was you. the way your hair held golden chunks from the sun, the way you messed with a recent scab on your arm even though he told you not to. it was almost pathetic to him, that he admired you so much. little did he know that you did the same.

once you all had reached the school, you had held your hand up and jogged after megumi as you called out to him again, “megumi, wait up—!”

he turned his head, tugging at his collar to avoid some of the heat from gathering below his neck. it especially didn’t help that you looked at him with those eyes of yours, so sweet and careful. “what is it?” he asked, beginning to walk back up to the dorms assuming that you’d follow.

and of course, you did; feet keeping up with the pace that megumi set although it felt slower than usual today ( only because he tried slowing down more for you just in case you struggled to catch up with him, which he, too, would never admit ). you laughed a bit before putting a hand on your hip as you walked through the hallways of jujutsu high. “was just wondering if you could help me with an equation, i don’t really get it,” and with that sentence, he looked at your sheepish smile and the very thin, sheen layer of sweat that formed on the nape of your neck even with your hair tied up.

megumi’s nose twitched as he let out a soft exhale, turning his gaze back in front of him before he stopped in his tracks. you two shared a look in the middle of the hallway before you extended your arm with a free hand, gesturing towards your dorm’s door. he shrugged with a small, “sure,” before you made your way over to the room, a bright smile on your face as you signaled for him to follow.

to megumi; it felt weird being in a girl’s room, alone, that is. especially when the only other person in that room is you. it didn’t feel all so strange though, you made him feel comfortable enough and made enough small talk even if he didn’t exactly like participating in meaningless chats. your smile remained ever plastered to your face, even when you weren’t facing him — he didn’t get it, but it made him feel something. something other than annoyance at the stupidity shown around him.

“ah, shit,” you had said.

he turned, the wheels of the rolling chair beneath him making a satisfying rumble on the hardwood floor. “what is it?”

“i left something in kugisaki’s room, i’ll be right back i swear—! just grab that black book in my shelf, okay?” he followed to where your finger pointed to where multiple sleek, matte books sat vertically pressed together in the small shelf. his mouth opened to ask you which one you meant until he heard your hasty footsteps retreating out the doorway and down the hall into nobara’s dorm. he sighed, ducking down to dust some of the books off, some clearly more recent than others.

he grabbed the three middle ones, hoping those were the ones you were talking about. laying the first one down, the spine crackled as he opened it up — only to be met with eyefuls full of repetitive english words and a few in japanese to the right, likely a language arts notebook.

hands grabbing at the second one, he opened it up only to be met with sketches and outlines of anatomy. megumi quirked a brow at the fine lines, grazing his hands along the shaded graphite and dark, textured contrasts of the pages. some were just doodles, others were full on practicing certain anatomical shapes — and then on the fifth page did he find a drawing of nobara and yuuji, the day at the track field.

he let out a small hum as he squinted at the small comments you’d leave on the drawings; he scanned the small strokes of kanji and kana that lay on the side, in this instance it was, “too silly.”

another page, some of gojo sensei and his odd faces ( somehow so expressive despite keeping the blindfold on most of the time ). another page, just some scenery of downtown tokyo when you guys had an assignment there.

and then he saw himself, his scowl presented to him on the light paper along with a multitude of other faces. that one time he tried to smile with his teeth where you and yuuji ended up making fun of him and took a photo was drawn, along with the polaroid taped to the corner. his thumb rubbed against the bottom corner of the page, before slipping his other fingers under and turning it; only to be met with more portraits of him.

megumi pressed his lips tight together as a familiar sense of when you had memorized this scene, remembering you and him were driven around by ijichi for a while after returning to the school from a mission — you had injured your leg and needed a ride, to which megumi stayed with you the whole time.

he narrowed his eyes at the small note underneath the spikes of his hair.

‘美男, binan’.

and it was like his heart leaped into his throat, he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as he closed his eyes and felt his stomach flutter around a bit. you thought he was handsome, perhaps one of the many things megumi fushiguro was not in his mind; and perhaps everybody else’s. he let out a small huff before closing the book and opening the third one, before sitting in silence defeatedly only to see that that was the book you were talking about.

he opened it up to find meticulous, color-coded notes and scattered equations littered on pieces of stapled graph paper in your notebook.

his head shot up and whipped around to face you as he heard you call out his name with a questioning lilt. the new position he took allowed you to see what he was so worried about; the three books that lay out on the table, your sketchbook being the one of top showing that that was the one he touched most recently.

your face dropped a bit, cocking your head before letting out a small, nervous laugh. “what’s up?”

he stayed silent for a bit, looking off into the corner for a few seconds for turning his gaze back to you and saying, “didn’t realize you were such a nice artist.”

megumi watched as you froze in place, smile still evident on your face as your eyes remained upturned and closed in a warm demeanor. you took a few steps before plopping yourself face down on your bed. he groaned, “don’t be shy, i just gave you a compliment.”

you let out a long string of a low pitched whine as it came out garbled and muffled in the sheets.

your ears pricked with the sound of the hardwood’s surface being rolled upon by the chair, a larger weight dipping the bed down a bit. you felt an awkward hand place itself on your back, patting it a few times before sitting in silence.

lifting your head up to avoid adding too much heat on your face with the soft comforter, you didn’t dare look at megumi. you two merely sunk in the quietude as your face heated up as time progressed. he didn’t know what quite to say, he was flattered and he was glad that you thought all these things about him, painting him more attractive than he really was ( at least that’s what he thought ). he just didn’t tell you that. he just couldn’t tell you that.

but eventually, he huffed, “so,” megumi paused, hesitantly sighing once more.

“do you really think i’m handsome?”

“oh my gosh, megumi.”

𐙚 taglist ; @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz @seternic @kalulakunundrum @silly-norman @chxlexauriana

𐙚 requests are closed — june twenty seventh, 2024

[shotmrmiller]

I love that the drama between one night stand sd!simon and his bs!reader is that he coerced her into a relationship that she didn't want, begrudgingly accepted, and is now through with him bc he slept with someone else. Makes me think she caught feelings~ bc if it was casual, who cares who he brings into his bed? But nooo he did everything in a relationship you're supposed to do, then fucked up and brought someone else home smh

BUT! what if this is a ruse~? What if she was a friend or a friend's gf and he brought her home and told her to sound like she's getting the ghostie jr bc he wanted to make the reader jealous? All so that he could sweep in and say "see luv, ya do care about me" except this all backfired!! Poor simon

ofc she caught feelings! she got doted on like nothing else! pampered, spoiled, fucked through the mattress and what? she's supposed to accept that his dick is the communities? i'd hang him by his thumbs ISTG

the ruse shit is crazy business cuz it's kinda fitting. it's one of those look at me as i don't immediately reject some girl at the bar, don't tear her arm out her socket because she put her hand on my thigh. sickening! what's worse is that he wouldn't be able to take what he gives. one friendly ㅤsmile from the bartender and he's got you cock warming him in public, angrily hissing if you like the attention you get from guys so much then sit down and bask in it cuz he knows you're practically cross eyed with the depths his cock is reaching just being on his lap. rip to you if he suddenly "shifts to get more comfortable."

once you're all cockdrunk he walks you to the truck with a hand on his hip. too many hungry eyes, too many starved hands. he isn't in any mood.

[brownskinlemon]

Midori Sour pt.2 (d.f.)

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 3,347

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

warnings: (18+) explicit language, smut, smoking of maryjane, unprotected s3x (kinda?),

author's note: Let me know down below if you guys would like a part 3 with the morning after. It would be such an adorable way to end this little mini series <3

-

It seemed he was thinking of you too, because soon after blue light flooded a small part of the room from a text, an unsaved number.

It read: “Can’t sleep. Come watch tv with me?”

You all but ran to the door, hopping up and making your way across the hall with no second thoughts. You lightly knocked, peering down the empty hallway, blanketed in silence as you waited for him to answer.

Your heart caught in your throat as the door swung open, and there he was. Clad in nothing but pajama pants, towering over your heated frame, he looked like everything you needed in this moment. 

“One second..” He turns to walk back to the bed briefly, grabbing a freshly rolled joint and returning to meet you back at the door frame. “You down to come smoke this with me first?” He tilted his head slightly as he waited for your answer. You nodded, a small smile making its way onto your face.

You stepped aside, letting him lead you down the dimly lit hallway. The scent of his cologne followed behind him as you both made your way to the backyard. It looked so different out here when it was empty. Neon lights gently blanketed the large pool, pool floats drifting aimlessly, and the moon reflecting delicately in the calmness of the pool. You and Dominic walked to the edge of the water, sitting criss-crossed aside on the warm ground. The silence was a sharp contrast to the overstimulation of earlier, save from the quiet flickering of Dom’s lighter as he lit the joint. You watched closely as his pink lips parted, ghosting the smoke effortlessly. 

“So..”He took an additional hit before handing it to you gently.”How long have you been like..in LA full time?” His eyes traced your features as you took a hit, waiting eagerly for your answer.

“Almost..6 months just about.” You blew out a bustling cloud of smoke, handing the joint back.

“You feel like you’re adjusting well?” 

“Can you ever really feel adjusted to LA?” You sighed. He chuckles dryly, smoke coming with it.

“I’m with you on that. I've been here for a few years now, and shit, it still feels like sometimes I can’t ever keep up.” He shook his head, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he titled his head back to gaze up at the blanket of scarce stars blanketing the dark sky above you. The joint was at its near end, and after taking a final hit, he looked back towards you.

“Finish it off for me hm?” He held the small remnants of the joint in the air near you, watching you closely as you leaned forward to take a generous hit, not breaking eye contact. You pulled back, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, and you both broke out into giggles at the choked sentence you attempted to get out mid cough.

“Holy shit.” You finally began to catch your bearings.

“You good?” He leans forward, one hand reaching to grab the underside of your jaw gently.

“Yeah..” Your breath stalls at the sudden contact. “Do you…should we go inside and get snacks or something?” You mentally facepalm yourself.

Snacks? Seriously Y/N? 

“Oh uh..sure.” He hops up, offering his hand down to you, and hosting you to meet him on your feet.

You are once again trailing behind Dominic as you both make your way back inside. The kitchen is just as stunning as you remember , draped in marble countertops with a large island in the center. The pool lights crashed through the glass wall overlooking the backyard, serving as the backdrop to you and the tall boy’s silhouettes.

As he opened the fridge, you went to the candy drawer, remembering it from last time you came over.

“Y/N I’m not gonna kill you for grabbing a snack you know? Look through the drawers hunny,  I can’t even finish half the shit I buy anyway.” Omar stated.

“Yeah-sorry.” You stumbled out.

“You know, one day soon, you’re gonna come out of that shell of yours.”

“Maybe for the right amount of liquor and a miracle." You sigh.

You chuckled at the memory, settling on a pack of sour patches to sooth your munchies. You padded over lightly to the island, leaning back up against it. Dominic made his way across from you, leaning against the counter opposite you. You were too focused on opening the package to notice his gaze trained on your face.

After finally getting it open, you finally looked up at him. “Want some?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For sure.” He leans forward, opening his palm as you shake a few into his hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both, as you briefly turned your head to look out the window. Being alone with Dominic was strangely comfortable, almost like you two already knew each other. You returned your gaze to him, surprised to find him still taking glances at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“What?” You broke the silence.

“What do you mean what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?” He asks, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Your eyes, that thing you do. I feel like you’re looking too deep into me. Like you’re gonna see something you don’t like if you stop prying.” You state dryly, peering down at your feet that have become the most interesting things in the world.

“I haven’t been able to stop looking at you all night, don’t you realize that? If there was something about you I disliked, which there isn’t, I’d know by now.” You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your cheeks, and more importantly the schoolgirl-like smile fighting its way to your face, tilting your head down to your feet in an attempt to hide it.

Your breath stalls in your throat as you see him stand up from his leaned position on the counter, walking closer and closer to you until there was nothing but a few inches between you too. You could feel the heat blazing from his skin, and you had no choice but to face him as he caged you in against the counter with his arms on either side of you. He was towering over you, bringing his face so close to you that the faint smell of mint and weed was faint.

His doe eyes were blown, and you couldn’t help yourself from utterly and completely drowning in them. A small smirk made its way to his face as he took notice of your shaky breathing, your own eyes mirroring his. 

“Dom..” You muttered weakly.

“What is it?’ He asks, feigning ignorance. “You have me out here about to kiss a girl I just met today, you realize that?” He sighs.

Please do something, anything.

You nodded, begging him silently to do it. Just as you stood on your tippy toes to hover your lips closer, he lunged forward gently to connect your lips. You had been aching for this feeling all day, and the pleasure surging through your veins was even more euphoric than you could’ve imagined. It started out gently, testing the waters as you both sank deeper. You and his hands began to make their ways to explore each other, making your kiss deeper and more intense. 

You gasped as he lifted you onto the counter, and he replaced his mouth in no time. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer as you began to slyly grind up into him. It took everything in him to pull back from you, and you almost chased his lips as he began to speak.

“How far do you wanna go?” He pulled back from you, raising his eyebrows, rubbing circles into your hips.

“I want you to take me all the way Dominic.” You breathe out.

Holy shit this cannot be happening.

Without missing a beat, he lifts your heated frame into his arms, resuming your kiss as he walks you back to his room, closing the door behind him. He places you down gently on the bed, crawling over you between your thighs, using his arms to hold him up above you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He says breathlessly, pupils blown out from the adrenaline pulsing through him.

“Hm you think so?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah I do.” He smiled at your coyness, diving back in to connect your lips. His warm hands made their way under his hoodie on your body, making you gasp as they came in contact with your stomach. You began to rid yourself of it, and he leaned back to help you finish, tossing somewhere in the room haphazardly. 

He kissed down your jaw, kissing and sucking lightly across your neck, tilting your chin back gently for access. A whimper broke from your lips, cutting through the silence in the room. He continued his torture down the expanse of your chest, leaning back to play with the edge of your tube top. 

He tilted his head to the side at you adorably, “Is it okay if I take this off?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded.

You pulled it over your head, the both of you now only clad in bottoms. You instinctively rush to cover your chest, and his intense gaze softens for a moment. He gently grabs both of your hands in his hand, removing them from your chest to push your hands above your head. He dips his head down, peppering kisses all over your chest. 

“So so pretty.” He says between kisses. His mouth trails over to your nipples, eyes locking with yours as he wraps a mouth around your nipple. A whine rips through your throat, echoing a little too loud. He pulls back, whispering near your ear while nipping at it.

“I need you to be quiet for me babydoll. You think you can do that for me?” His voice sends a lightning strike of pleasure down through you and to your core. His eye contact found its way back to you, the depth of his stare drowning you. With the way he looked at you, he could convince you to do anything.

You nodded, eyes glazing over.

“Good girl.” He nods back at you, humming in approval. “Lift up your hips for me.” He slid your underwear and pajamas off of you gently.

A chill ran through you as you realized you were completely and utterly bare to him, and he had the same realization. His eyes raked over your frame, mouth slightly agape as he took you in fully.

“Jesus christ you are perfect.” He rasped out, heat flushing your features at the compliment.

“Dom..” You cover your eyes with your hand, turning away from him as a smile breaks out on your face. 

He silently slid down the bed, finding a place between your thighs as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder. Your breath began to become unstable, your brain unable to catch up to your body. You felt his soft lips gently kiss the inside of your thighs, and he leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Hey…look at me baby. Please?” You couldn’t resist the sickeningly sweet rasp of his voice, and peeled your arm away from your face to look down at him. His puppy eyes were impossible, brown and deep, silently begging you to fully give yourself to him.

You watched as he hovered over where you needed him most, finally connecting his mouth to your core. You threw your head back at the contact, the weed and buildup from today combining to make you more sensitive than you’ve ever been in your life. Your breath stalls, and you grip onto him for dear life, suppressing the moan that threatens to spill as he works you over with his tongue. 

He begins to slide a finger into your entrance slowly, gripping onto your hip to keep you still as your hips jolt at each brush of your g-spot. Your hips grind up into him, small whimpers and heavy breaths racking your chest. He hums in appreciation, selfishly relishing in how hard you were fighting to stay quiet. The plateau you had been on was now turning into an incline, and you felt yourself becoming closer and closer to tumbling over the edge. Your legs shook uncontrollably, stiffening as your hands searched wildly for something, anything to bite down on.

You settled on a throw pillow, bringing it to your mouth as you sunk your teeth into it. Your eyes rolled as a sob racked your chest into the pillow as your orgasm suddenly washed over you. Dominic watched uninterrupted as your back arched, and you gave into him shamelessly, convulsing underneath him with your hand laced in his near your hip.

He let you ride it out before pulling back as you whined at the sensitivity, wiping his mouth of you and bringing himself back above you.

“Hey..” He cupped your face gently, trying to coax your eyes back to him. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, still finding your breath. “Holy shit.”

He chuckles at your dramatics, leaning down to kiss your forehead. When you finally open your eyes, the fire behind them is burning bright, pupils blown from your recent rush. 

You peer down between you both, noticing the tent in his pants that’s poking lightly against your thigh. He follows the path down to where you’re looking,  taking in the way your mouth was slightly agape. 

“Hey.” He calls your attention back to him, rubbing his thumb gently at your cheekbone. “Are you okay if I-”

“Yeah!” You clear your throat. “Sorry. Yeah. That’s fine.”

He flashes you a look of gentleness, moving back from you to rid himself of his pajama pants. He groans at the relief, his manhood stiff and taunts against his stomach, precum glinting in the lights of the room. You can’t help when your eyes widen at the sight. He climbs back over you, pulling the comforter over you both up to his hips.

“Dom..I don’t…I don’t think that’s gonna fit.” You weren’t a virgin, but the sheer size of him compared to what you were prepared for was making your mind race. His eyebrows raise, as he smiles down at you. 

“I’m flattered that you think I’m well endowed. But I promise you, it will. Trust me.” Sincerity danced around the rings of his irises, leaving you no choice but to believe him. You nod slowly, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Are you on birth control baby?” He continues. You nod again. He kisses your nose. “Good.”

He finally settles between your legs, beginning to rub his tip between your dripping folds, making both you and him gasp. “Holy shit baby you are soaked.” He groans, squeezing his eyes together to find his bearings. He pauses for a moment, massaging your hip bone as he begins to speak again.

“You are beautiful, you know that?” He looks down your frame, taking in you again once again, relishing in the compromising position you both found yourself in. “I need you to let me know if it's ever too uncomfortable, I will stop anytime. I mean it. Can you do that for me?” 

“Mhm.” You nod, unconsciously grinding your hips up into his in impatience.

“Ok. Ok. I get it.” His breath stalls at the contact, turning his attention back to between your legs. He finally begins to push the head in, both of you gasping again. “Hey. Breathe.” He nodded down at you, taking in your still chest. You attempted to oblige, short, harsh breaths leaving your nose in an attempt to relax yourself. Your eyes rolled as he worked into you inch by inch, the slick walls of you welcoming him in effortlessly. Your hips jump as he finally presses fully into you, brushing your g-spot and making him near whine as you fully sheathed him.

“There we go. Atta girl.” He praised raspily, delighting in how your legs began to wrap around him and your eyes found him in a sultry and desperate spell. When you fully adjusted as he moved slowly, a tame moan broke through the barrier of your lungs, and he ducked near your ear once again. “Shh baby, you gotta be quiet for me remember?”

“Dom I’m trying- it’s so hard.” You whimper pathetically, sounding almost on the verge of tears as you wrapped your arms around his toned back. 

“I know baby I know.” He tuts in mock sympathy, picking up his pace slightly and pressing deeper into you with every thrust. “You can do it though, I know you can.” You threw your head back, clenching down onto him, your hips jolting as he prodded at the one spot you needed him over and over. 

Your hands dug into him harshly, sure to leave some marks in the morning. Your best efforts to conceal your noise were no match for the torturous pleasure washing over you, coursing through your veins. The boy between your legs seemed almost hellbent on making you wanna scream. A guttural moan flies from your lips, and his hand flies up to catch in its path, cupping your mouth.

His eyes lock onto yours, watching as they roll, just as his hips rolled fervently between your own. Your legs began to shake around him, cueing him into your impending release. Another breathless moan is muffled against his palm as he reaches his free hand between you both, using the wetness there to circle your sensitive bud.

“You gonna be a good girl and give me another?” He watches as your wet eyes fight to look back at him, groaning as you begin to clench down on him relentlessly. Before you both knew it you were flying over the edge for the second time, holding onto the man for dear life as silent sobs wracked through your whole body. “There you go. Give it to me.” He rasps, biting down on your shoulder lightly when his own release begins to creep up.

As your orgasm begins to wane in intensity, his own finally approaches, both of you a desperate mess as you hold onto each other like your lives depend on it. You feel him fill you up with one final pump. You would have to grapple in the morning with the fact that you had sex with a man on the first day of knowing him, and welcomed his eager release into you so willingly. However, said man was Dominic Fike, so any residual regret would be very limited, if at all.

He gently pulls out, the emptiness a sharp contrast to the depths of you he has just reached. His mop of curls was flush against your chest as he laid his head down on you. You both laid wrapped in the comforter and the warmth of one another, letting your breaths catch up with you. Your nails scratched his scalp lightly, curls slightly damp, and a hand ran down his overly warm back. Your eyes were barely open, but you peered down at him , noticing his fluttering closed.

“Y/N” He grumbles lightly, almost startling you.

“Hm?”

“Can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

A tired smile breaks out on your face. “Do you want to?”

“I do.” He shuffles closer to you, burying his face in your neck. “Don't want you to think this is all I wanted you know? You are amazing, from what I can tell. Wanna keep talking to you.” You feel him smile into your neck, pecking a light kiss after.

“I’d like that.”

“Also want you to keep making me midori sours if that's okay.” He says, wrapping himself impossibly closer as if being in your skin wouldn’t even suffice.

“Mm. I can do that.” You sigh comfortably.

You both fell asleep, limps wrapped up haphazardly around one another. The serenity of the night blanketed you both, both of you blissfully unaware of the chaos that Dominic’s story had caused.

While you drifted deeper, a blue notification lit up the entire room:

“Instagram: 1000+ notifications”

-

TO BE CONTINUED: I have made the executive decision to make a finale: part 3! It will be very fluffy and a bit comical, I look forward to wrapping this up in a really sweet way. Thank you all, enjoy!

[citysweet]

— relationship head cannons (?) + plot

ෆ idol!chan x idol!fem reader

ෆ tw: none

ෆ wc: 1k+

| meeting

you met by mcing together, specifically around your debut so you're kinda nervy but excited nonetheless. especially since you're working with someone so attractive?? 

he's so sweet when he notices how you fiddle with your hands, twisting the rings on your fingers. “you’ll do good, yeah? don't be nervous.” 

one of y'all's first shows and everyone already loves it. chanyn trending everywhere, cute pictures of yall in your color coded outfits 

and with both your groups having comebacks, you're both getting teased endlessly. but it's only the beginning so you brush it off.

| crushing

then once you two become comfortable around one another, the skinship comes easy to you two. from leaning on one another to adjusting each other's jewelry/clothes (which is all seen on the bts of music show). but that's all it was, friendly, co-workish touching. at least that's what you started telling yourself when butterflies filled your stomach every time he walked into the dressing room. 

the camera the staff had given you captured all the games you played together while waiting for your schedule to start. the rock paper scissors, the hot hands and how you’d both lean into one another laughing. the way neither of you would let go right away. you two sharing whatever snacks and drinks you brought along for the long hours. ‘it’s just a crush that’ll go away.’ 

which leads to your crush only growing. minutes before you’re set to go on stage to declare this week's winner, you feel his hands rest on your shoulders. he stands behind you, leaning in towards your ear so you could hear him over the music playing. his breath on your skin sends a shiver up your spine and you straighten out your back. “who has your vote?” 

suddenly everything he does makes you feel a certain way. you force yourself to ignore it, caught up in thinking there's no chance he’d like you back. that god forsaken smile of his really did it, you’d catch yourself looking to make him laugh just to see his pretty dimples form. you always looked away once he’d look back, missing the way his eyes fill with admiration at the mere sight of you. 

“what?”, you ask the first time you notice his eyes on you. he flushes pink, looking away and shaking his head. he clears his throat, tweaking with his mic. “nothing.” the first person to pick up on your little crush is your manager (who you’re quite close with). you shrug it off, still stubbornly denying it. and not to your knowledge, chan was also dodging every attempt to talk about you from his members. 

| realization

it really starts to set in for you both when you reach your last show together. its comeback season again for your group and you sit with your members in the dressing room after winning. a knock on the door silences the conversation and someone gets up to open it. on the other side stands chan with a bouquet of flowers along with your name written on a card hidden between the stems. all the eyes turn to you and you quickly move to stand outside the room with him. he nervously hands the flowers to you. your fingers brush against his and your eyes lock. 

you then remember what you had gotten him and quickly turn around, opening the door and picking up the bag with a small cake inside. chan hesitates when you stick out your hand, insisting you shouldn’t have gotten him anything. your hand reaches for his wrist, placing the bag into his grip. your touch sends a sheen of heat across his body. you two bid your goodbyes when his group comes prancing down the hallway. you wave to them, thanking chan for the flowers again before slipping back into the room. 

| communicating

since then, the fact that chan didn’t go any farther had been eating him up. it had been nearly a month since he’d seen you, unsure if you even read the heartfelt note he left. not necessarily a confession of any kind, but him sharing how happy he was to have worked with you specifically. which you had read it, more than once actually. however, in all the time he spent with you, numbers were never exchanged. and with such little free time, the only chance you had to mention it was on live. 

“ah! i just remembered,” you say before jumping up and grabbing the vase containing the somewhat healthy flowers off your desk. you pull them into frame, taking out the card. “channie gifted me some flowers on our last day and he left me a card..” 

“they’re kind of dying now,” you laugh softly, “but i never got to thank him for the card. its funny cause we worked together for so long, but we never exchanged numbers.” you flip open the card for the nth time in the last month, smiling when your eyes scan over the words. 

“so channie if you see this, thank you. it was very sweet.” you say looking into the camera before folding up the card and tucking it back into the vase. “ ‘he’s so nice.’ ”, you read aloud from the moving messages on the screen in front of you. nodding, you reply “mhm! he is.” the smile on your face slides past no one, leaving plenty of room for speculation. 

the fans made sure to get the clip to chan, to which he responded on live as well. 

“i saw uh-..y/n’s live..yeah we had so much fun together we completely forgot about sharing our numbers.” he says as his hand rubs up against his arm in the black sleeveless he had on. (that thing he does iykyk)

“i’m glad you liked it! i wasn't sure if you had gotten it…and the cake was really good.” ‘cake?’, “yeah, y/n got me cake. the kids ate most of it though,” he laughs, “it was very thoughtful of her, be nice to her guys, okay?” 

| bag secured

later on, when you two do finally see each other again its around award season. which meant a handful of rehearsals and thankfully your times lined up. so while staff got all the technical stuff ready, you two made conversation. chan’s nails pick at his fingers nervously as doubt racked his brain. the boys had convinced him to ask you out (after forcing the fact that he liked you out of him). after a little while, the tension is eased and you’re laughing and joking just like before. 

someone comes over and hands you your mic pack, he immediately offers to help you, not waiting till you say yes. he loops the wire around your waist, plugging it into the small box and clipping it onto the hem of your pants. as he secures it, a sudden boost of confidence dawns on him and he goes for it. “do you wanna go out with me?” when you freeze up before turning around, his hands drop to his side and he goes pale. 

“yeah...yeah i would.” you say, failing to bite back a smile. he lets out a dry chuckle, nodding. he clears his throat, “we should probably get each others numbers, yeah?” you laugh, nodding along before pulling your phone from your pocket and handing it to him. you take his, putting in yours. you swear your knees almost buck when he looks at you with that shy smile, dimples ever so prominent. 

---

later that evening, after the long day you’ve had, you open your contact list. your phone pings and your heart nearly jumps out your throat.

channie 💙 : hey, when are you free?

ෆ my annual fic longer than 1k omg omg

© citysweet

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage Show Pt.5

★🎸 {} .. rockstar!hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.6k

synopsis. a game of body shots goes terribly wrong when things gets heated and hobie walks in on you. you two are forced to come to terms with your feelings

or

hobie gets jealous and fucks you

🍒・．❕warnings. bathroom sex, rough sex, jealous sex, body shots, sorta kinda cheating but not really since they aren't togeteher, claiming kink, writing on v, bathroom sex, oral (m recieving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, a whole lotta angst at the end, yall ain't ready for this

Backstage Show pt.4

Hobie Brown was always so sure of himself. He was sure in his pursuit of music as a career, sure in his bandmates and their ability to perform, sure in his own capabilities when it comes to nearly everything in life. He loved his life just as it was, the glamor, the weed, the alcohol, the fans. He was so sure that he adored it all.

But Hobie could not be sure of you.

He was initially interested in you because you were pretty and that hole between your legs could constitute a portal to heaven. You were nothing but a way to let off some steam before or after a show. A pretty little thing he could have on his arm just for him to make up for the fact that he was a horrible, lonely, asshole who used girls for his own pleasure because he was a self-sabotaging loser. And once the people he date finally figured that out and eventually left, he’d find someone new to bide his time with until the cycle continued.

And now he could not think of a world where you're not right there by his side. He can't imagine a world where you aren't his girl. Your loyalty was unmatched, your dedication, your silent worship every time you looked at the profile and his slender, beautiful face you simply wanted to run your fingers alone and kiss.

Did you know he wanted to do just the same? DId you know that he thought the world of you? The only difference between you and him was that he had the courage to do it, to rub his fingers upon your lips and trace your jaw where the tips of them touch? It's because you were always a little more his than he was yours. You'd never dare call him yours, never try to make him feel constricted in fear that he may ghost you. 

But because you were not necessarily his and he was certainly not yours. You thought it perfectly fine when Mace was in your ear as he usually was talking about doing body shots with the rest of them. His hands were holding your waist as he pulled you into his body and whispered in your ear that it’ll just be a “bit of fun, nothin’ serious”. You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel his lips curl against the shell of your ear.

You were hesitant at first, glancing over at Hobie who was talking to a roady about stage management, but gained the courage to go off with him and the others to lick tequila shots off of each other's bodies. Why would he not be okay with it? He let the others have their way with you, body shots would be where he crossed the line?

You sat down in the group and watched for a moment. They had gotten a couple of other groupies to play the game with them, shirts all removed as they lay back and let alcohol get poured on them. You were hypnotized by tongues, by the giggling, but the heated makeouts once they reached the top of each other's bodies, mouths seeking each other without discrimination.

They went around the circle, licking each other’s sculpted bodies until it was your turn. You were eager to try. You removed your shirt and layed on your back while Eli poured a shot on the curve of your diaphragm, trickling north and south very quickly before his mouth caught it. 

It was warm and hot, his mouth that is. Even hotter watching his tongue lap up your diaphragm and down your naval, eyes never leaving yours as you let out a shaky breath. He made his way down to the waist of your skirt and kissed the mound of your pussy before going back up to kiss you, the others cheering you on into depravity. You kissed him back, thinking only of Hobie's lips on yours, his hands on your body. 

Eli grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your bodies melding into each other much like clay. He smelled vaguely like Hobie, like smoke and musk but a different cologne. All you wanted as Hobie, Eli meant nothing to you but he knew how to make you feel good.

Then his voice manifested behind you.

"Wha' in the bloody fuckin' hell is this, then?" He reached between the two of you and pushed Eli away, your lips tearing apart from each other as you gasped and looked up at him. "Hobie– It's no-"

"Oh, don' gimme tha' bullshit. Come'ere." He did not reach for you, did not help you up, forcing you to sit in your embarrassment as you grabbed your shit and stood to your feet. Hobie grabbed your wrist and pulled you along with him out of the room and towards a nearby bathroom in the busiest part backstage. You held your shirt to your chest to cover whatever little modesty you had left as he put you in the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind the two of you.

His lips were on yours so fast you hardly had any time to comprehend it. It was rough, possessive, demanding all you had and more to offer. He swallowed your moans as you pushed your body against his and dropped your shirt to the ground. “Hobie–” You whined, begging for him to let you explain. His large hands were pulling your clothes off of you until you were just in your bra and your panties were partially pulled down your supple thighs.

“You must like sluttin’ yaself out, don’cha?” He picked you up with a surprising amount of strength and set you down on the sink. “Greedy lil’ whore. One just isn’t enough for you.” Hobie reached around in his pockets to find the marker he always carried around for autographs. Once he finally found it, he uncapped it with his teeth. “Guess I’ll haf’ta remind ya who you belong to.”

In great big, capitol letters, he wrote above the mound of your pussy like a tattoo, like an autograph ‘HOBIES PUSSY’. Hobie capped the marker and tossed it away somewhere before pulling you in and kissing you again with ravenous fervor. He was angry, he was jealous, you realized. 

The thought of him being jealous made your heart swell. Jealousy meant that in some way, he cared, even a little. You kissed him back, let him have his way with you as he licked and bit down the length of your body, your skin still tasting of tequila and bad decisions. You parted your legs a little further as he made his way towards where you needed him the very most.

His breath the warm, fanning along your outer lips, teasing what could be but never quite getting there. Hobie paused a moment and looked up at you. "Nah– you don' deserve i'. That's a privilege." He let you go, standing up and backing away. His body, once warm and covering your partially naked one, suddenly retreated from you and now all you know is the cold and humiliation. You ached. You wanted him badly, needed him.

"Hobie, please." You begged, hopping down from the sink, your hands coming to adjust your panties. His claim on your body still visible through the thin fabric of your underwear. "I know you're mad but it was just some stupid game. I wasn't actually gonna fuck him."

Hobie didn't say anything, didn't look at you from across the small bathroom you two were locked in. He was so good at making people feel unimportant, unheard. He was good at making people feel like they didn't exist in his presence. 

What if he told you he had never even looked at a single person since he first fucked you? Never placed his hands on another person other than to sign tits as some fans love when he did. People have flirted, men and women and everyone in between, but he brushed them all off. What's casual, one time sex when he has you there to offer him something so much more? Would that change what you said? Change the way you brushed it off as if it were nothing?

You got down on your knees in front of him, kissing the crotch of his pants where his cock lay half-hard and growing. "Please forgive me." Your words muffled as you spoke into his dick that was beginning to stir more and more. He was still pretending to ignore you but his body could not. It wanted you as badly as your body wanted him. "'m gonna make it up to you."

Your hands worked his assortment of belts and his jeans until his half-hard length sat before you, twitching with the rushing of blood. You spat into the soft palm of your hand and used that to work your hand up and down the length of his member, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive slit at the tip of his head.

He was hard in your hands in no time, a few short huffs leaving his nose as he attempted to deny himself the pleasure. You knew he would break soon, but it would take more than some feeble handjob to do it. You kissed the wet tip and parted your lips to let him sink into the hot wet cavern of your mouth, your tongue running along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

Hobie shuddered, finally looking down at you and the way your mouth wrapped around him. You took him as deep as you could go, a little more than halfway before your throat constricted and you gagged around him. You looked at him through teary-eyes you drew back, leaving his cock all wet with your saliva before pushing forward again. You bobbed your head at a steady pace, your hands braced against his thighs.

Oh– you sucked dick like a champ, slurping him up like he was an popsicle, looking him up with those big, innocent eyes of yours. You hollowed your cheeks for more suction, letting him go with a pop of your lips before taking him right back into your hot mouth.

Hobie hissed with pleasure, moaning softly as he reached down and gathered up your hair in his hands in some makeshift ponytail. “Jus’ like tha’. Nice, stupid slut, tha’s all ya are.” How his body shuddered for you, for those wet, plump lips of yours, for your tongue that ran over his slit over and over and drove him absolutely insane. He couldn’t stand you and the way you could make him crazy for you, for your mouth, your body, you in all your ways.

He forced you to go faster, pushed you a little further until his cock slid down the tight pocket of your throat. He selfishly took his pleasure in you, slapped your cheek lightly when you resisted him out of instinct. Your throat tightened around his cock and if he were to look underneath, he’d find the outline of his dick in your throat.

Hobie fucked your throat the way he wanted to, fast and deep until your nose met his pelvis and your saliva dribbled down his balls. You were nothing but a means for his pleasure, a way to get off, a sex toy. You offered yourself up to get back into his good graces, not wanting him to hold a grudge against you over some stupid game.

He fucked your throat raw, nice and deep, slowing down to give you a break, speeding up when you got too comfortable with the slow and steady pace. Hobie pushed you to your limits, fucked your mouth until you were lightheaded as hand to tap his leg to get him to give you a break. When he let you go, you broke away with a gasp, coughing as your lungs pleaded for air. Hobie grasped you, picked you up with overwhelming ease and set you back on the sink, tearing your panties away with a rip of fabric like it meant nothing to him. His signature on the top of your pussy spurred him on as he stroked his cock between the sopping lips of your pussy and sunk into you in one swift motion of desperation. 

You let out a gasp, shuddering at the feeling of his cock filling you so suddenly. His tip kissed your cervix before retreating and thrusting back into you. He gave you no time to adjust, no time to savor the feeling of him slowly inching his way into you. He was fucking you hard and fast and you were loving every moment of it. He couldn’t wait. He needed to be inside you, claiming you, owning you.

"Hobie! Mmh~" You moaned loudly enough for anyone outside of the bathroom to hear. It's just what he wanted, for everyone to know that you were taken, that you were his. He had your legs hanging on either side of his shoulders, toes curling behind his head as he brutalized your cunt.

The way he fucked you could only be described as abuse. It was ruthless, desperate, selfish. Hobie was not at all focused on your pleasure, if you happened to cum during all of this, that would not have been his goal, just a side effect. He was out for his own orgasm, he deserved it, you belong to him.

But did you really? He never applied labels. You were only his in his mind and you had only broken a made up rule he had kept in his brain. 

“Fuck! Ohh~ God, please…I–” Your voice was louder, hands grasping at anything and everything you could from the sink to Hobie’s neck. Your jaw hung open, lips forming a small ‘o’ shape. Your back was against the cool mirror and you wondered in the back of your mind what you looked like right now. Did you look like a whore? You imagined you did, with wild hair and smudged makeup. He probably thought you a slut, just making your rounds with his bandmates until you collected them all like Pokemon.

Hobie readjusted his grip on your thighs, his hold almost bruising as he nudged your jaw with his nose. "Look at i'. Look at the way I fuck you." Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands gripping the sides of the sink to brace yourself. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked down at the sight before you. His cock bullied its way into you, the lips of your pussy parted for him so nicely. Just above the mess he made of your cunt, a creamy, white ring sitting neatly at the base of his cock, was his signature, 'HOBIES PUSSY’. The words made you moan, made your head face back and your back arch as he fucked you up.

Only he could do you like this, have you screaming his name in the violent rush of an orgasm so everyone could hear the way he fucked you. The sound of him pushing into you was wet and creamy with the residue of an orgasm pulsing through you. Your body shuddered, your hands grasping at him, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer, teetering on the edge of tears. Your climax crashed upon you, left you desolate and destroyed and sobbing. 

He didn’t stop fucking you, didn’t slow down. “Look a’ me.” One of his hands grasped you chin and forced you to look him in the eye. You could hardly see him through the glaze over your eyes, the tears swelling then falling down your face, taking mascara and eyeliner with it. 

“You see wha’cha done to yaself?” You let out a cry as he gripped you tighter, fucked you harder, his pelvis rubbing against your aching clit with each thrust into your used up cunt. You could hardly take it, barely stand it. Your body scrambled to get away from the brutalization. Hobie held you down. “Why ya runnin’, luv? You said ya make i’ up t’me. Stay righ’ here and take this dick since ya so hungry to be fucked.” You could do nothing but take it, take the jealousy and angry way he fucked you. 

Hobie kissed you when he was close to orgasm. His teeth chewed softly on your bottom lips as he asked you to scream a little louder. You wrapped your body around his, kept you so close he could barely pull out enough to cum. He made a mess of you, coating the outside and inside of your pussy in creamy white.

“You’re such a fuckin’ was’eful, whore.” Hobie dragged his fingers through his cum and pushed it into your leaking hole, watching the white ring of cum forming at the base of his knuckles. When he pulled out his fingers, you slid down from the sink on shaky legs and reached for some toilet paper to clean yourself up while Hobie washed his hands.

There was a long stretch of silence as you got dressed. You couldn’t help but look at the curl in Hobie’s lip through the mirror. He was really upset about it and you figured you should say something to help the situation. You didn’t want any animosity between the two bandmates.

“It truly didn’t mean anything.”

Hobie turned off the water and flicked the water off his hands and he turned to look at you. “Is tha’ s’pposed to make me feel better? I walked in an’ you were shirtless, makin’ out with ma mate. What the fuck was I s’pposed to think. Aw nah, she’s jus’playin’? Come off i’.”

You didn’t understand why he was so upset. He always made it very clear that you two were nothing official. He was not tied to you and you were not tied to him and it didn’t matter either way. “I don’t understand, Hobie. Are we together or are we not because I’m tired of always following you around like a puppy dog wondering when you’d actually look at me as more than just a sex doll you can call up when you need to get your dick wet.” It came out so suddenly, your quiet anger, your silent resentment.

Silence once again. The two of you stared at each other for a long time. 

“I haven’t touched a single person since I first met you.” Hobie admitted, almost throwing it in your face. You scoffed at him. “That’s not fair, Hobie. You know that’s not fair. You always made it clear that we weren’t together. And I’ll have you know that before tonight, I haven’t been with anyone that you haven’t given me express permission to be with.”

“I’m not holding that against you, luv. You don’t even have to bring it up.”

“Then what do you want from me? Are we together or is it just casual? You’re giving me all these mixed signals. One second you’re ghosting me and the next, you’re talking about how obsessed you are with me. Hobie—” Your voice broke, choking on your own words as more tears dappled your messy cheeks. “Hobie, I love you.” You said it, you laid your heart out in front of you and gave him all the opportunity to crush it under his boot.

His lips twitched and he shook his head, placing his hand upon his temples. What did he expect? She hung on his every action, his every word because she hated him? She was in love with him before she ever even knew him. She was in love with him the moment he first interacted with him. She worshiped him like a god.

“It won’ last, babe.” He sighed. “I’m a fuckin’ dickhead an’ an asshole. I don’ do love. One day you’re gonna wake up and realize tha’ I’m not worth ya love or ya time.” He pushed you away because he couldn’t bear to wake up to that day where you don’t look at him with that spark in your eye or you don’t hang on his every word. He can’t face the day where he figures out that he’s in love and you’re not.

“That’s for me to decide.”

“Well, I’m makin’ the decision for ya. Piss off, would ya? I don’t fuckin’ love you ‘n I neva will.” Hobie flung you off with a dismissive wave of his hand like the beads of water that still clung to his skin. It was the period on the matter, the end all be all of this conversation. He left no room for further argument. He wanted you gone and that was that. Who were you to fight it?

So once you were all dressed, you opened the door and looked back at him, tears threatening you to show weakness. You would never give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. A young you would have begged on your knees. A naive you would have asked him not to turn you away. But you were better now, knew Hobie for what he really was and he was right, he was just some selfish asshole who could never love you.

“Go fuck yourself, Hobie.” 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

hi <3 could you maybe write for xaden riorson? like reader has a boyfriend in the quadrant since before starting as cadets and things just get weird between them bc he becomes a narcissistic ass and everything kinda gets out of hand after threshing when reader bonds with the strongest dragon of the year, and her boyfriend fucking tries to kill her? like drama. and then xaden gets in the way as he has has an eye on reader for a while :) thanks and have a nice day!

Happy reading! Sorry for the wait!✨😭🤍

Little bat

Xaden was a wall of cold demeanor. An unreadable figure. A true shadow when he wanted to be. And a scary hawk when he wanted you uncomfortable. It was always a mix of those two. Ever since you became a cadet his gaze just seemed to linger. More than once had you caught his glances across the rooms, dimly lit corridors.

You told yourself that was because Bjorn was so loud. So outstanding and over the top that just like everyone else the wing leader couldn't seem to take his eyes off him. And since you were always tucked under Bjorn's arm, Xaden's gaze followed you too. It was a thrilling sensation to know that after a year of being apart you were going, well hopefully going, to see your boyfriend once more. The two of you had been childhood sweethearts. Your mothers were convinced that you two were brought into this world to be together till death pulled you part.

And all souls save you did he swept you off your feet when he found you in the hall. Kissing you in front of a pile of strangers. Just at the time your body had been so full of adrenaline that you simply couldn't get your mind to care as you too kissed him just as eagerly. Bjorn had walked with you ever since, smiling smugly. You understood why people were saying that he was like a stray dog here. Barking a lot but doing little. He slacked at his training but bashed you for the smallest mistake. Making you feel small and weak. He sneaked around with a couple of the older cadets drinking by the trees. Just when you brought it up he always lashed out at you. And suddenly the pink glasses had started to slip.

A part of you knew why Bjorn had grown more icy towards you. Xaden had chosen you for his wing. He had wanted you there and had made it clear that Bjorn as a choice for a partner was a death wish here. And nothing rubbed Bjorn in a wrong more than being humiliated like that.

"It's way past your bedtime, little bat", the voice spun all around you like a true night breeze, finding you in a dimly lit training room. "And old grumps like you should be on the step into their second dream", you said confidently, hoping that Xaden could see the smirk on your smile just well. You found comfort in his cunning ways. The fact that he even acknowledged you... made you feel ahead of every other cadet but then...

"You're holding it too tightly", his warm voice kissed the side of your neck and you couldn't help but shiver. "Your grip impacts the way the dagger is launched", Xaden's fingers crept over your wrist as he rearranged your palm over the metal hilt, "Loosen it up and do what you're already doing. You'll hit the bullseye every single time", the pause between every word made your mind spin. You could feel his tight muscles behind you. The way his warmth hugged you. The way you had leaned into him without noticing and that he too hadn't backed away. You let your head hit Xaden's shoulder. A deep exhale. A skipped heartbeat. And the dagger hits the center of the target perfectly.

"Now go warm that chatterbox's bed before he started weeping", you let out dull laughter at Xaden's words. He sheepishly rose his eyebrow, "Trouble in paradise?", he asked in a teasing way. "Oh, you're a relationship guru now too?", you daringly met his gaze. Xaden only curled the side of his lips further up, before he pushed off the wall walking away.

When trashing came you knew that everything was going to get real. You had hoped to find a sliver of concern in your boyfriend's heart. A desire to help you in any way possible. And you had beamed when he offered to help you in the evening, to walk you through the most important parts but even9came and went and he never showed up. You had tried to wait up. Tried to give yourself reasons as to why Bjorn was late but you had given up once the clock hit two in the morning. Quickly gathering your things and getting down to the first year's floor.

Threshing was one brutal mess. Scorched bodies. A body that fell straight from the sky only a couple of feet from where you stood. The chaos of it all had you back into the deepest part of the woods. Sinking between the broken branches. Head in your hands as you tried to pull yourself together. Maybe you weren't meant to do all of this? Maybe this had been a mistake? Then lighter than the brisling leaves you felt it. A gentle, cool touch. Brushing at your cheeks. The back of your neck. Cooling your body, easing the panic. "Don't back away. Let the fear sharper your senses", you choked on a breath as that velvety voice filled your ears. Quickly looked around to catch a glimpse of Xaden but saw nothing. Yet it ignited something in you. You were going to get your dragon and nothing was going to keep you from achieving that.

You were in a hazy high when you landed in the clearing next to the other cadets that had too bonded a dragon. Just the surprised aws and whispers filled your ears before you had even landed. But all you truly cared about was Xaden now. Eagerly searching for him in the crowds of people. You needed his clear judgment. Because it all was surreal to you. What had happened shouldn't have happened. It was too rare. Too... And then you saw him just as surprised looking back at you.

You bonded a blue daggertail. The same breed of dragon that Xaden had. You didn't even remember getting off her. Only feeling Xaden's arms on you moments after. Delirious by it all. "Guess the younger sister decided she wanted to come out of the hiding", Xaden said so casually that it almost frustrated you. Did he know? Knew there were two blue daggertails all this time. And said... but bile rose in your throat and you quickly turned away from your wing leader, as you vomited.

Your head was pounding when you woke up. The fact that you weren't in your room only added to it. Even more so because it was Bjorn's. The noise outside the door made your headache worse. "She is my whole world and yes I know her my whole life", you heard Bjorn slurring out there, "I'll give her your love. But know that it was me who gave her all the knowledge, I trained her to be this good". You shook your head in disbelief. Even now he was making a show out of you. Fishing for his achievements where there were none. And you would have gone there but you were still so tired. You just didn't even have it in you to argue so you dropped it.

You got woken up by Bjorn returning to the room once again. By the darkness outside it must have been hours later. And by the way Bjorn swayed he had without doubt drunk way too much. You were prepared to take care of him once more when he spoke, "You think you are better now, aren't you?" Taken back by his words you said nothing in return. "You came here to ruin my life. Is it because I didn't want to marry you before I left? Or what other grudges do you hold, you bitch", Bjorn snarled stepping forward.

"You're drunk. Get some sleep", you muttered, turning away from him so you could once again slip out of the room that had become so distant. But before you could even take a step, two strong hands wrapped around your throat choking out the air you could take in. "You will not get this. I will not allow it", Bjorn muttered delusional haze drowning him, "You should have died way earlier".

You gasped and gasped. If only you weren't that tired. If only you expected any of this. You could have overpowered him. But now. Now no matter how much you clawed at his arms it only made it worse. He raised your body higher adding the pull of gravity to your choke and the black dots started to fill your vision. Dancing in the corners of your eyes before starting to fill the whole world around you.

And then all of a sudden all the oxygen came flooding in, as your knees hit the ground. You gulped it all. Drinking it in eagerly. A hand touched your shoulder and you jumped slightly only to be met with a warm gaze that Liam possessed. "Take your time. Smaller breaths are better", he said while crouching beside you. But if he was here then... your eyes darted behind you. And here it was. Xaden had his shadows choking Bjorn the way he was choking you just now. The look on his face read death. Pure, brutal death.

"Xaden", you rasped, whining at the pain you felt, "Don't dirty your hands with that scum". You could see him gritting his teeth. Forcing more strength to choke Bjorn and then he dropped him. Let the male sink to the floor before he turned to Liam, "Get him out and make sure this is taken care of". A cold order. But an order regardless.

Xaden turned to your lost face after that. Erasing the distance between you two in no more than a step. His sudden movements made you shiver slightly, causing him to still for a moment, "I've got you, little bat, it's just me". Xaden gently brushed your hair away from your face, eyes falling onto your neck. And from the way his jaw tightened and his eyes went dark, you knew it probably looked awful. "It looks bad, doesn't it?", you asked, feelings your eyes filling up with tears as your hand hovered over your neck. "You look just as beautiful", Xaden's words left you speechless, even more, so the fact that he gently pulled you closer to his chest. And you felt just how hard his heart was beating. "Will you...Will you stay with me?", you asked after a while of just sitting there with him. "I'll carry to the healer just to check and then", Xaden said in a serious tone, "Then it's the fourth year floor for you", you felt your cheeks heating, dropping your head down. But still managed to catch a light smirk on Xaden's face, as he scooped you up into his arms.

[cobaltperun]

To Never See You Again

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: She was unattainable, radiating with blinding beauty that went above and beyond her appearance. And though you knew you shouldn’t, you flew too close to the Sun, hoping one day she would look at you the way you looked at her. (Set right before Scream 5)

Warning: Angst! And I don’t usually write full on angst with no happy ending, but I tried. Big spoiler, since I know some of you prefer to be warned about this, Reader dies. Also, a request, you know who you are, love you!

Masterlist

Word count: 2.2k

Growing up in Woodsboro didn’t exactly come with a lot of perks, in fact, it came with occasional Ghostface lunatics terrorizing a very specific group of people. Somehow, you didn’t care much about that, as cruel as it might have sounded you simply weren’t related to any of the victims and it’s been years since it happened the last time. You hardly even remembered all the panic and fear permeating the town, you were, after all, just a child back then. Also, you weren’t a fan of horror, despite your best friend being the biggest horror fan you knew.

You didn’t dare to try and get into horror, fearing it would make your feelings for the girl even more obvious than they already were. Because Tara Carpenter wasn’t just your best friend. She was the strongest person you knew, going through abandonment after abandonment and still finding it in her to let new people in. She was gentle, accepting of anyone who wasn’t against her or her friends, and she was fiercely loyal and protective. Willing to throw herself at anyone if it meant keeping someone she cared about safe. And you loved her, you’ve been in love with her for years, yet you never said anything, because…

Well, Tara didn’t feel the same way.

And honestly, a part of you felt like you weren’t worthy of her love.

It wasn’t anything Tara did or said, you just felt like she could do better, and that she deserved better. It wasn’t even your self-esteem, you hoped, it was more the fact that Tara deserved perfection.

So, that was where you were. Sitting in her living room with an almost completed school assignment between the two of you. She looked so focused on it you dared to look at her a bit longer than you usually did.

“Y/N?” she suddenly said your name and you jumped, embarrassed that you got caught staring, but Tara just laughed a bit. “You can tell me if I have something on my face,” she rubbed the corners of her lips, trying to find the nonexistent smudge.

“There’s nothing on your face, T,” you laughed, looking away to avoid meeting her puzzled eyes. “You just looked kinda cute,” you tried to brush it off.

Tara rolled her eyes. “You always say that,” and you did, you very much did often say that. In fact, you complimented Tara as much as you could, as much as it was acceptable for two friends. And she gave you compliments in return, but you knew there was nothing romantic in them. And there wasn’t anything particularly romantic about your compliments either, you meant them, she deserved to hear them, and you knew you would compliment her even if you weren’t in love with her.

“It’s true!” you defended yourself, turning to once again look at her and seeing that slightly mischievous look in her eyes. She was teasing you, thinking the compliment wasn’t completely serious, but more of a friends encouraging one another. You couldn’t blame her, regardless of how lovestruck you were you thought you were fairly good at hiding your feelings for her.

“Sure, it is,” she brushed it off and somehow, for whatever reason you felt compelled to just tell her everything.

“I like you, Tara,” you ignored how hot your cheeks felt, how small your voice sounded, how loud your heart was beating, pounding against your chest. You ignored all of that and waited, suddenly finding the floor between your feet to be the most interesting floor to have ever been made.

“Well, yeah, we’re friends, I like you too, Y/N,” she said, puzzled over your decision to just suddenly blurt that out.

You should have taken the way out. She was serious. She didn’t realize what you meant. You should have accepted the chance she was unknowingly giving you. But you didn’t. “As more than a friend,” you told her, because deep down you felt guilty for having these feelings for her, for threatening to ruin your friendship, and for looking at her the way a friend shouldn’t. How long would it take for you to start blurring lines, to hug her as the one you were in love with instead as your best friend.

She needed to know. She had every right to know.

“As more- oh!” she gasped as she realized what you meant.

You dared to look up, to look her in the eyes. She looked surprised, but there was no anger, no disapproval in her eyes, just acceptance and apology.

“I’m sorry, you’re important to me, but just as a friend,” she didn’t move away from you, she kept the same distance as before you confessed.

“No, I didn’t expect you to! You deserve much better than me, anyway!” you tried to tell her, to make her known it was fine, that you never expected anything from her. Sure, you hoped. Who wouldn’t? But you didn’t expect her to return your feelings.

Yet, Tara frowned, scooting a bit closer and looked you right in the eyes. Her eyes, her big, expressive dark eyes were filled with anger. “Don’t ever say that again, you hear me, Y/N? It’s not about deserving more than you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, I just never thought of you that way, you hear me?” she said it so firmly, without a hint of doubt, with so much conviction you didn’t have it in you to argue against her words. “Okay? I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, but it isn’t because of you, I swear. There is nothing wrong with you,” there were no lies, no dishonesty in her words, Tara was completely honest, and you found yourself nodding.

“Please don’t apologize, I’m the one who blurred the lines,” you weren’t trying to make her pity you, you genuinely wanted to help her as well, because she was going to feel sorry, no matter what you said, and you wanted to lessen that feeling as much as you could.

“We’re okay, Y/N, you can’t decide who you fall for,” you could tell she wanted to tell you more, but she held back and that may have broken your heart more than her rejection.

Something did shift, she was holding something back from you, and she never did that before. And you knew you had to leave, to give her space and let her think things through. “Would you look at the time, I should get going,” you lamely said and just barely noticed the sadness in Tara’s eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to tell you something, maybe to stop you, though that was wishful thinking on your part.

In the end, she just nodded, getting up almost at the same time as you did and walking you to her front door. You stood there for a bit, silently taking the night in. It was late, close to midnight. You weren’t supposed to stay at her place for this long, but working on the project took more time than either of you predicted. Finishing it might be a bit awkward, but there wasn’t much work left to do, so you’d push through it.

At least your parents were out of town, so no one was worried about you. Even if they were, they likely would have guessed you’d sleep over at Tara’s place instead of walking back home at this hour. Well, either way, they weren’t home, so they couldn’t worry.

“Bye, Y/N,” Tara told you as you walked down the stairs. You turned around and saw she was smiling softly, her bright eyes still filled with an apology or not returning your feelings.

You smiled back at her, accepting her decision completely. You weren’t owed a chance at a relationship, no one was. Heartbreak hurt, but judging by Tara’s reaction you could still stay friends, though it would probably be best to keep your distance for a bit, just to let the feelings still in your heart fade for a bit. “Bye, Tara,” you said, raising your hand to wave at her as you took a few steps back. And then you turned, walking down the road through the darkness, you glanced back and saw she was no longer there. Of course she wouldn’t be, as much as she tried to be strong for you, you knew the talk was emotional for her as well, she needed her rest.

And then, just as you turned around you caught a glimpse of a cloaked figure and a white mask and before you could even realize what was happening you felt something sharp cutting through your flesh.

You didn’t hear anything but the pounding of your heart in your ears as you reached up, your bloody hand touching the mask. You looked at the eyes, barely visible in the darkness and saw cold, almost angry gaze bearing down upon you as you collapsed to your knees and the figure of death took your life.

~X~

Stabbed.

Gone.

Dead.

You were dead and Tara couldn’t remember the last time she cried her heart out the way she did today, at your…

Fuck… how could this happen?

Maybe you could have been saved, if anyone found you in time, but you were already dead when your body was found in the pool of your blood in the early morning. Cold, alone, with the killer not even bothering to hide your body or move it from the sidewalk. You died all alone, less than quarter of a mile away from Tara’s home, and she didn’t have any idea. She didn’t dare to call you, to make sure you came back home safely, because she didn’t want to make things even more awkward, she just sent you a text, one you never even opened, and she just thought you didn’t want to open her message. She thought it was a justified reaction. She didn’t think twice, even as the dread filled her. She thought it was dread of what’s to come, of how your feelings and her rejection of them would affect your friendship.

She was no stranger to losing people. First her father, then Sam, but they were, as far as she knew, alive. You were dead, there was no hope of fixing the relationship, of making up for the time that would be lost from now on.

She lost you. And she cried so hard she nearly had to use her inhaler, she cried and sobbed until there were no tears left to cry.

It wasn’t like she suddenly realized she had feelings for you, that she loved you back, or anything like that. She didn’t. She never looked at you like that, and she wasn’t in denial. She lost a precious friend and she grieved for a friend. And when she wondered if she should have done something differently, she wasn’t thinking about her feelings, but just letting you go home that late.

Because she had the same feeling she had when Sam was about to leave, that unexplainable dread that something important was about to be ripped out of her life and that she had no control over it as she watched you leaving. And Tara hated herself for that, she hated that she didn’t act on that feeling. She didn’t want to make it awkward between you two by asking you to watch a movie, let alone spend the night because of how late it was. She just turned you down, after all. And then she came to a conclusion the dread was just her reaction to what would happen between the two of you now, and she relaxed, letting it flow through her, instead of holding it in. How foolish was she to believe that? To not insist on making sure you came back home safely?

She could never look at you the way you looked at her, but she would forever regret that her last words to you were. ‘Bye, Y/N,’ such meaningless words, small, so ordinary. And Tara feared those were the very last words you ever heard spoken to you. Thinking of them now, they were even chilling last words to hear, so innocent and not in any way sounding like the final words. She wished she could have told you something else. She wished she could have properly explained to you that her rejection didn’t mean the end of your friendship, that she cherished every moment you spent together and that you were one of her best friends, if not her best friend.

She didn’t though. She thought she’d have time. That she would let you process everything and then try and see if the friendship could be continued or if you’d prefer to keep your distance. She should have known better.

She should have known better.

She should have never left anything unsaid.

The sound of landline phone ringing in the kitchen broke her out of her thoughts and she reluctantly got up from the sofa to answer it.