#stop pretending you like me or that you care

[lostfracturess]

say it again — satoru gojo x f!reader

you've been married to satoru gojo for so long, but you've kept it quiet, so you can imagine his satisfaction at finally hearing you call him "husband" in public.

You've managed to keep your marriage to Satoru Gojo under wraps for nearly two year now. It isn't that you're ashamed—far from it.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers simply comes with complications, especially given his clan's tendency to meddle in everything.

So you both agreed to keep it quiet. No flashy announcements, no public displays, just you and him. Sure, it means wearing your ring on a chain under your clothes and careful planning for your living arrangements, but it's worth it for the peace and quiet.

That is, until you slip up at the most mundane possible moment.

You're both at an official appointment regarding some property documentation. The clerk has been droning on about paperwork when she asks about your relationship to Satoru for the forms.

"Oh, he's my husband," you reply absently, still scanning the documents in front of you.

The scratching of Satoru's pen stops abruptly. You look up to find him staring at you with the most ridiculous expression—somewhere between absolutely delighted and utterly self-satisfied.

"What was that?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

You blink, realizing what you've just said. "I mean—"

"No, no, say it again." His eyes are practically shining now. "What am I to you?"

"Satoru," you warn, very aware of the confused clerk watching your exchange.

"Come on," he says, leaning closer. "One more time. What am I?"

"We're in public," you hiss, but you can feel your cheeks warming under his gaze.

"Please?" He bats his eyelashes at you in that ridiculous way of his. "For your beloved husband?"

"You're impossible," you mutter, but you can't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Impossibly charming? Impossibly handsome? Impossibly perfect as your husband?"

The clerk clears her throat. "Should I... put down 'married' then?"

"Yes!" Satoru answers before you can. "Put down that I am this wonderful person's husband. Their spouse. Their better half. Their—"

"She gets it," you cut him off.

But Satoru isn't done. For the rest of the appointment, he manages to work the word "husband" into nearly every sentence. "As her husband, I think we should sign here." "My lovely spouse and I would like copies of that." "Do you need both myself and my better half to initial this?"

By the time you leave the office, you're ready to strangle him.

"You're enjoying this way too much," you say as you walk to the car.

"Can you blame me?" He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "It's not every day I get to hear you call me your husband in public. Usually it's all 'this is Satoru' or 'we're together' or my personal favorite, 'yes, I do unfortunately know him.'"

You roll your eyes, but can't help leaning into him. "You know why we keep it quiet."

"I know, I know. The clan would be insufferable." He presses a kiss to your temple. "But maybe we should tell them anyway? Can you imagine their faces when they find out we've been married this whole time?"

"They'll have our heads for this."

"Perhaps. But you have to admit, the thought is tempting. No more sneaking around, no more hiding that ring." He catches your hand, thumb brushing over where your ring should be. "I want everyone to know exactly who you are to me. And what I am to you. What was it again?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Come on," he coaxes, "just say it once more."

You pretend to consider it. "And what do I get out of this?"

"My eternal love and devotion?" He gives you a long look. "And I'll do the dishes for a week."

"You're supposed to do those anyway," you point out, but he's already pulling you closer, that insufferable smirk of his growing wider.

"Say it again, love," he says, and the way he looks at you then—eyes soft and full of adoration—makes your breath catch in your throat.

All your defenses melt away under that gaze, the one he reserves just for you, the one that makes you forget why you ever try to deny him anything.

"Husband," you breathe, and feel him tense slightly against you.

"Just like that," he whispers. "Though I prefer when you add my name to it."

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"That's what I do best," he says. "Besides, my darling wife, I think you secretly love it when I am."

The way he says 'wife' sends a shiver down your spine—something you know he notices from the satisfied look in his eyes. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly yours," he corrects, and despite his playful tone, there's something sincere in his gaze. "What do you say? Ready to scandalize some elders?"

Looking at him now, you can't remember why you ever wanted to keep this secret. "With you? Always."

He doesn't wait for more, just leans in and captures your lips with his, and you think maybe going public isn't such a terrible idea after all.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[xetlynn]

Hello!!!, I just wanted to request a Claggor x pregnant reader (in the good timeline), if that’s possible, thank you so much <3!

I had fun with this one

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

The Favorite

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: claggor and reader are expecting a baby in a few months. Their family come over with gifts.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare.” My husband stopped me as I was about to pick up a part of our baby’s bed. I sigh, lifting myself back up while holding the bottom of my stomach. “Claggor I can pick up a piece of wood.” I walk over to him. He sat on the floor trying to figure out the directions to put the crib together. It was mine from when I was a baby that my mom surprisingly kept. 

“Not if I’m here. What if you trip and fall forwards? I would never forgive myself.” He looks up at me with a stern expression. I roll my eyes, nudging him with my knee. “I’m only 31 weeks, I don’t even have the pregnancy waddle yet. So I am very capable of picking things up without tripping.” I fold my arms, a little annoyed with this conversation that we’ve had before. 

Anytime I even lift a finger I get scolded. I can’t cook, I can’t lift anything over 5 pounds, I can’t pick things up off the ground anymore. “You’re in denial first off because you so have a waddle. And second I am here so you don’t need to be capable of picking something up. I got it.” He takes my hand, kissing it softly. I roll my eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Okay, whatever. When our princess comes out being a little diva that’s going to be on you.” I point a finger in his face, he pretends like he’s going to bite me.

“And I’ll be okay with a little diva.” He goes back to building the crib. 

I go out to our living room to sit down on the couch. I let out a bored huff. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and read? Who does he think I am? I’m tougher than him. I used to be a professional fighter. Now I’m some sort of wife with a great husband who wants to take care of me. 

My hands land on my stomach and I think about our baby who is in my tummy. What will she look like when she’s born? I hope she has my eyebrows. Claggor’s nose. 

A bunch of knocks sound at the door and I frown knowing I have to stand up from just sitting down. I grab the back of the couch and try to push myself up. “Sit down, sit down. I got it.” Claggor rushes past me, getting the door. I blink a few times, now annoyed since I got halfway up!

Vander comes into the house holding two baskets. “I bring gifts for my grandchild!” He laughs excitedly, I grin up at him. “Thank you! You didn’t have to do that!” I appreciate Vander, he’s been such a good help with setting things up for his granddaughter. “Ah, yes I did. She’s going to be such a spoiled girl.” He clasps his hands together after Claggor took the baskets from him, setting them next to me on the couch. 

“Well, we love you.” I smile, taking the first basket and opening it to see little blankets, a thing of diapers and wipes. “This is so helpful.” I start to tear up, Claggor sits next to me pulling me into his arms. “Sorry, I’m just so grateful for this. You don’t understand.” A tear falls and my body wracks in a sob. 

“She’s been crying a lot more lately.” Claggor tells his dad and I sniffle. Vander snickers, “it’s alright. No worries, I know how it goes.” He waves my behavior off. 

“Powder, Ekko and Mylo are going to be stopping by. They told me to let you know.” He exclaims, his arms over his chest as he speaks to us. “Oh man, they’re so sweet!” I cry out, hiding my face in my husband's chest. I feel him shake as he laughs at me. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He rubs my back up and down. “Sorry,” I sat up, wiping my tears. “Pregnancy brain.” I grab the other basket, opening it to reveal some baby clothes. “Perfect, we’ve been needing to grab some more pajamas.” I take them out of the basket, holding them up one by one to check them out. “So cute.” I squeal, leaning my head on Claggor’s shoulder. 

Not even moments later there’s a pounding at the door and Vander gets it. Mylo sneaks under his arm holding a large golden necklace. “Got this for my niece so she will know who the best Uncle ever is.” He throws it over to Claggor who picks it up in between his fingers to inspect it. “Yeah, she’s never going to wear this.” He deadpans to his brother with an irritated expression. 

“What!? I spent good money on that. She’s going to love it.” He throws his hands in the air. “Mylo, this is fake. Her mother is allergic to fake metal so I’m sure she will be too.” Claggor throws it back to the shorter guy. “Ohhh! He told you.” Powder comes in with a small box, Ekko behind her with painting supplies. “Here ya go!” She places the box down in my lap. “I made them.” She proudly states, hands behind her back. I picked up a light pink rattle. I shook it and it was soft sounding. Perfect for a baby. I look at the others and there were some teething toys along with a few building blocks. “Powder, thank you! This is amazing.” I grin up at her. “Awe, it’s nothing much. I’m excited to meet your beautiful bundle of joy!” 

Ekko wiggles the paint supplies and I point to the bedroom. “Thank you again, Ekko!” I call after him. “No problem! I’m so excited to do this.” He pokes his head out to tell me and I chuckle. “Also, could you clean this mess up? Or is the crib supposed to look like this?” He looks to Claggor who groans. “I forgot all about it. I’ll be back, babe.” He plants a kiss on my lips before heading into our daughter’s bedroom. 

Powder plops down in his spot, Vander reprimands his other son about trying to give a baby a gold chain that ended up being fake. I giggle, turning to my sister-in-law.

“You’re so talented Pow.” I lift up her artwork and her face flushes. “Thank you, I didn’t know what to get you guys for her. Ekko said something about giving you little toys. Then I thought about how I could just make the toys myself.” She explains her process and I smile. “Well this is a great gift.”

“I’m going to be her favorite uncle, trust!” Mylo tells his dad who scoffs. “You don’t even know what to get a kid.” Vander places his hands on his hips. “You’re right but I know how to make the kid look cool. She’ll be beating up bitches left and right.” He announces and I snort. 

“That’s why you’re not babysitting. Ever.” Claggor comes back into the room. He turns to look at me but then sees Powder in his spot and he frowns. “What? Why not?” Mylo asks. 

“You want my kid to be violent. She’s not going to be.” Claggor pinches the bridge of his nose, not believing this was actually a question. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to be the favorite. Praise peace and love.” Ekko peaks out behind my husband and I snicker. “You are not going to be the favorite! You guys will eat your words when the first thing she says is Uncle Mylo.” He points at all of us. I hold my stomach from how hard I’m laughing. Powder giggling with me, her hand grabbing onto my wrist trying to contain herself as well. 

“Her first word will be dada. Not her uncle who is an idiot.” Claggor argues, I raise my eyebrow. Dada? It’s definitely going to be mama but I don’t have the energy to join this fight. "I'm not an idiot." Mylo furrows his eyebrows.

“It could be Uncle Ekko. I top all you suckers.” Ekko says and now the three are all in a very heated argument about my daughter who’s not even out of the womb yet. 

Powder turns to me, putting a hand in front of my ear. “I hope they realize the favorite is actually going to be me… Gonna be so embarrassed when they find out.” She tells me and I grin. “You’re so right.” I nod my head. 

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

Gonna try to grind more requests I do have over 25 at the moment so be patient with me!!!! I enjoy this so much. I love seeing all the love!!!! I am getting sick though so if I start to slow down on my posts that's why. I can already feel my body aching:(

N e wayzzz, love you guys!!!!!

[avatar-anna]

Three days had passed and Harry hadn't left your tiny apartment.

He kept saying he should probably leave, and you insisted there were things you had to do, but neither of you actually made it past the threshold of your door. No one said goodbye, or even bothered to shrug back into clothes. For three days, you ate, drank, and slept with Harry.

"You're making it hard to leave," he murmured, his voice low and content as you placed tiny kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his jaw, anywhere you could reach, really. It was how you used to wake Harry up when you were together, and when morning number four rolled around, you couldn't help yourself but lean across the bed and kiss his soft, sun kissed skin.

At first, you kept up the pretense of being unattached, of sleeping with Harry merely because you knew each other well enough physically. "This doesn't mean we're back together," you'd both whisper, or something to that effect, before blurring the lines of your non relationship once more.

"You're not making it any easier to kick you to the curb," you mumbled, one hand reaching up to caress his stubbly cheek. The fine, short hair that seemed to grow in the last few days.

Harry smelled good, like he usually did with a mix of the soap in your shower. It messed with your head in a way that was dangerous, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

So he didn't leave (again), and you didn't tell him to go(again). You and Harry stayed in bed for most of the day, only bothering to get up when hunger was too apparent to ignore. You managed to whip something up from the meager groceries you had, not having gone to the market recently, and sat with Harry at the little dining table by the kitchen. The balcony would've been a much nicer spot, as it looked out over the neighborhood square you stayed in, but it was too public, too many keen eyes would've spotted Harry immediately.

"Part of me wishes I hadn't seen you at all," Harry confessed later in the day. You were back in bed after a brief stint in the kitchen where you tried to make pancakes, which promptly turned into kissing and licking pancake batter off Harry as he did the same to you on the kitchen counter, pancakes no longer a priority.

You knew he hadn't meant it to hurt you, but the words sent a pang through your chest, so different from the heat and fireworks and butterflies you usually got from him. Everything was so different now. It was hard to face how much had changed, especially now that Harry was in bed beside you. "I know."

"It's easier to pretend when I can't see you," he said softly, his hand never once stopping as it tracked through your hair, nor did your hand stop tracing patterns in his chest.

"Pretend?"

Harry blew out a large sigh before sitting up in your bed, his arms stretching high above his head. There were hickeys littered all over his body, one on his hip revealing itself as the bedsheet fell and settled just below his waist. You found yourself transfixed by your ex's body, the one you still loved so much the idea of him leaving made your heart hurt.

"Do you still love me?" Harry asked out of the blue.

The question shocked you, but only because you thought the last three days would've made it obvious. You certainly didn't have to ask him how he felt. "Yes."

"That makes it easier too. In a selfish way, I guess," he said, not once meeting your eye. "Knowing you're in as much pain as I am."

Unexpected tears welled in your eyes. You never wanted to hurt Harry. He'd been right to say it was easier to imagine him happy and healthy post break up if you didn't see or hear from him. It was easier to move on if you convinced yourselves that you were better off without each other.

"Harry—"

"I miss you, Y/n," he said, his voice trembling slightly. Harry wouldn't meet your eye, which made all of this so much worse. "I know why we broke up, and I've done everything short of sleeping with someone else to try and move on, but I just—Tell me you're struggling as much as I am. Tell me you don't sleep as well as you used to because I'm not there. Or don't. Tell me this has all just been sex to you so I know there's an end to this—this—"

"Misery?" you finished for him. "I wish I could. I don't know if I'll ever be the same again, honestly."

"Then why—"

"Don't ask why. Please. Not when you know the answer."

It wasn't like you and Harry woke up one day and stopped loving each other. Everything about your relationship had been nothing short of perfect from the very beginning.

Until it wasn't.

"No one has to know this time," Harry said. His tone had taken on a desperate edge, almost making you turn away from him so you wouldn't have to face it, do this all over again. "We can—We can keep this a secret. It'll be just us."

It will never be just us, you thought miserably. "People already know, H."

At the look of confusion on his face, you reached for your phone. You showed him the slew of articles that had already been written. Pictures of you and Harry walking through Rome together three days ago, each one picking you apart or depicting you as the villain in Harry's life.

"I know that's why you're still here. You're waiting for the storm to blow over," you said, unable to meet his eye.

"That's not—After everything I just said, you really think that's why I stayed?" he asked. You'd turned away from him, but you felt his hand on your shoulder, the kiss to your temple as he leaned in close.

"I wish I was the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought, that I could simply exist in this relationship and not let anyone else in, but—but I'm not. I can't."

"You. Are. Enough," Harry murmured, pressing each word into your skin with a kiss. You closed your eyes, tears leaking from the corners as he curled himself around your body. One leg slid between yours, and you selfishly pulled him closer as he continued to murmur in your ear.

You fell asleep in your ex's arms, the weight of his body on yours more comforting than any blanket. When you woke up, Harry was there, but he wasn't wrapped around you anymore. He sat at the edge of your bed, wearing clothes for the first time since he'd set foot in your apartment.

"You're leaving?" you asked, voice scratchy with sleep.

"I'm supposed to go to Florence tomorrow," Harry said, bent over as he tied his shoes. "I've got a dozen messages on my phone asking where I am."

Something in Harry's voice sounded different, distant, just the way he sounded when you initially ran into him. It pulled at something in your heart, something that you'd been keeping at bay since you invited Harry into your apartment—the knowledge that this would eventually end.

"So you're—You were just going to leave? Without saying anything?"

You heard Harry sigh as he rested his head in his hands. "I thought it would be easier. Our last conversation seemed...final."

"I know, but—"

But what? Harry was right. This wasn't going anywhere. You told him you couldn't be in a relationship with him, and he was responding to that. You knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less now that the moment had finally come.

"You're right," you said eventually, sitting up in your bed. "We came here separately, of course you have plans. I'm sorry if I kept you."

"You didn't," Harry reassured. "There's nowhere I wanted to be the last few days, but we... we're broken up, and as much as I want to stay, I don't want to keep giving myself false hope."

Your fingers twitched, itching to reach out, to touch him, hold him. But he was right. As much as you loved this relationship limbo, that was all it was. Stringing you and Harry along would only hurt you more.

"I'm sorry," was all you could say. For too many things, none of which you could bring up without crying.

"Me too," Harry said.

Harry's lean figure appeared a couple minutes later, his head bent and shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding the few photographers who had been waiting for him to leave the building. You wanted him to turn around. You wanted to see his face one last time, a final farewell. But perhaps for his sake, he didn't, and you watched as he retreated down the street and turned down the road out of sight.

Leaning across the bed, he kissed your forehead, then stood up. "One day you'll realize how extraordinary you are, and you wont care how people perceive you," he said, his thumb caressing your cheek. "And then you'll go and make someone the luckiest man in the world by giving yourself over to him completely. I'm just devastated it wasn't me."

You watched him go from the sanctuary of your bed, knowing the second he was out of sight you'd break down completely. The door closed with a soft clock, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you hurried over to your bedroom window, waiting anxiously to get one last glimpse of him.

On your last day in Rome, you found a note he'd written.

Harry had hidden it in one of the pockets of his favorite of your sweaters, though you weren't exactly sure when. It wasn't very long, and the note itself was no more than a scrap of paper, one you'd nearly thrown out by accident. But you would've recognized his handwriting anywhere, and fond memories of notes you used to find among your things kept you from throwing away the folded paper and opening it instead.

Perhaps in another life. Unless you change your mind in this one, H.

[systenowy-blog]

I remember us crying so hard we muffled the sound by biting our palm or choked, we felt like our heart is going to explode, didn't hear or see the surroundings...

and then it all was stopping - we were exhausted. Usually someone else fronted to calm the body down. That terrible silence with tears still falling down with a feeling of worry for another part of us, with anger and sadness over what happened to them, detached from it due to dissociation in a way like when you know your family member suffers but you still remember it as you have the same eyes and brain. Shaking, maybe having an attack but not as much as them, not being able to escape this body and memories/thoughts, hearing them in head space screaming like they're still tortured, having intrusive thoughts to end it all.

Don't tell me it didn't happen, don't tell me we overreact, don't tell me it was different from your perspective - I don't care.

I hate our abusers. I wish I could help more.

I can't even fully feel happiness as an alter because of those assholes from the past - you ruined us and pretend it was nothing, you're not sorry, you didn't fix it.

We still wake up from nightmares, we still have flashbacks, we still can be triggered from trauma even if some things are not as vivid as it was, even if there are rare amnesia gaps, even if we think we're over it or blame ourselves trying to believe it wasn't as bad - we never fully be ok "thanks" to you.

Oh... but I'm not thankful... I'm pissed - picking them up from the floor, laying us down in bed, holding them while they take a bus, switching to save them from sh, talking them through another break down - you weren't there, you didn't saw it, you will never understand

but we will try to keep them safe this time...

Soprano

after the fire by Ada Limón

[txrully]

MOVIE NIGHT!

summary: so ego decides to be a christmas miracle himself and gives everyone a night off (unheard of, ik). the boys manage to scrape together a projector, a massive pile of snacks, and enough blankets to turn the place into a blanket fort kingdom.

but surprise surprise… the bllk boys end up sitting next to their crush. 🫣

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, hiori yo, shidou ryusei

a/n: hmm blanket fort kingdom hcs when..? :3

isagi yoichi

this boy is so nervous. like, he’s sitting stiff as a board, trying not to even breathe too loud.

accidentally knocks over the popcorn in the first five minutes and apologizes like a thousand times. 🫠

“no, really, it’s fine! it’s not like i was gonna eat it all… probably.”

sneaks a glance at you every time the screen lights up your face but immediately panics when you catch him.

his hand brushes yours when reaching for snacks and he freezes. you giggle, and he’s pretty sure that’s the sound of him falling harder.

bachira meguru

insists on sitting next to you, throws his blanket over both of you like it’s no big deal. 😌

spends half the movie whispering horrible jokes in your ear to make you laugh.

“what’s a snowman’s favorite snack? ice crisps!”

when you actually laugh, he looks so proud of himself. 🥹

by the end, you’re sharing a pillow because he “accidentally” leaned too close, and he’s trying to convince you to join him in building a blanket fort after.

rin itoshi

immediately sits down like it’s no big deal, but inside? pure panic.

keeps his arms crossed to avoid contact at all costs.

pretends to be completely focused on the movie but flinches every time you shift even slightly.

“stop moving.”

“i’m literally just breathing. 🤦‍♀️”

at one point, you lean closer to comment on the movie, and his brain blue-screens. he responds with some dry remark, but his ears are definitely red.

nagi seishiro

lets you sit next to him because he honestly doesn’t care where he is… until you’re actually there.

spends most of the movie too relaxed, slouching into his blanket, but his eyes keep darting toward you 👀.

when you laugh at something, he suddenly perks up and starts actually paying attention to the movie.

offers you snacks like, “want some? too much effort to finish it myself.”

lowkey hopes the movie never ends because you’re close enough for him to feel your warmth.

reo mikage

made sure your spot was next to his on purpose, 100%.

pulls out a whole charcuterie board like it’s just a casual snack 🤷‍♀️.

offers to share, and when you hesitate, he goes, “what, you think i’m gonna poison you or something?” with a smirk.

leans over to point out random details in the movie, his shoulder brushing yours every time.

when you shiver, he throws his fancy, designer blanket over you without even thinking 🥺.

chigiri hyoma

politely lets you take the better seat while he sits right next to you with the softest blanket known to man.

when you mention you’re cold, he just casually drapes it over both of you like a pro.

the two of you end up whispering commentary about the movie, and he laughs softly at your jokes.

if you fall asleep during the movie, he’ll adjust the blanket and make sure you’re comfortable.

definitely sneaks a photo of you asleep and saves it for himself (totally not to tease you later).

hiori yo

doesn’t make a big deal about it, but you can tell he’s happy you’re sitting next to him.

quietly offers you some snacks, trying not to disturb anyone (but he’s also just shy ; me core fr.. ).

makes cute little comments about the movie in his soft voice that make you smile.

if there’s a jump scare, his hand accidentally brushes yours, and he gets so flustered.

“sorry! didn’t mean to—uh, you’re not scared, right?”

shidou ryusei

flops down next to you and throws his arm over the back of your seat like it’s no big deal.

constantly trying to make you laugh with dumb commentary (and somelike times it works).

halfway through the movie, he starts jokingly stealing your snacks just to get your attention.

“if you don’t stop, i’m gonna bite your hand.”

“oh? i’d like to see you try, princess.”

he’s obnoxious, but when you laugh, he actually softens a bit and keeps sneaking glances your way.

i have so many drafts but im lazy to publish.. ToT

© txrully :: 2024

do not copy, translate, repost, or plagiarize my works in any way.

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[capquinn]

cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)

STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭

So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.

And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.

And that gutted him.

He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“Need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”

“I’ve got it, Quinn.”

It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.

By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I was a jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”

And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?

You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.

Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 . ( a collection of dialogue prompts based on varying types of demands &. requests . adjust phrasing as necessary . this prompt WILL likely be updated in the future . )

don't say a word .

don't leave me here .

meet me at our spot tonight .

follow me and stay close .

don't beg , it's pathetic .

can you ( tie / zip ) this for me ?

stop lying to me . tell me what you did .

put that down , you don't know what it ( is / does ) .

get out of my sight .

stop pretending you know what's going on .

find a first-aid kit . quickly !

don't get yourself killed .

leave them to me , just go .

just admit that you love me .

just admit that you hate me .

come here , let me look at you .

( name ) , don't make me do this .

drop your ( weapon ) .

stay here and wait for my signal .

don't just sit there , move .

take this and run , don't let anyone have it .

pretend you're my ( partner / girlfriend / boyfriend ) .

don't look , you'll give us away .

don't say another word .

stop pretending like you care .

go make sure the coast is clear .

take this with you . it's a good luck charm .

don't tell anyone about this .

if anybody asks about today , lie .

stop looking at me like that .

tell me you love me .

just kiss me , already .

keep your eyes on the road .

stop crying and calm down .

come with me . there's so much we could do .

wear the ( dress / tie / item ) i gave you tonight .

show me how you like to be touched .

hold my hand .

kiss me , make it look real .

look at me . how many fingers am i holding up ?

will you marry me ?

just slow down for a minute . what's going on ?

take a deep breath , you need to calm down .

get out of here , ( name ) !

draw your weapon .

go rest . i'm not asking .

take a step back .

give me a straight answer .

be polite to our guests .

look me in the eye and say that again .

put your feelings aside for a moment .

keep close to me .

here , let me see that .

look up at the sky .

get out of here , i don't want to see you right now .

stand up , this isn't over yet .

close your eyes and count to ten .

smile for the camera !

keep your head down .

( name ) , let me past .

listen carefully to what i'm about to say .

don't just stare , come in .

stop laughing , this isn't funny .

take this and hide it .

don't make a sound .

put your hands up .

quit causing problems everywhere you go .

just admit that you don't know what you're doing .

stop right there , i mean it .

don't say that name aloud .

just trust me , okay ?

stop acting so childish .

call the police . now .

tell me you love me , even if it's not real .

take a good hard look .

stop the car , ( name ) .

don't make eye contact .

stay out of trouble .

just do it already , we've waited long enough .

hold me tight , and never let me go .

finish what you started .

tell me what you know .

just stay away from me .

turn around . slowly .

don't be scared .

put it down before somebody gets hurt .

stop pretending , i'm tired of the pretending .

grab me my ( item ) , will you ?

don't make assumptions .

put this over it to stop the bleeding .

get to safety !

wipe that look off your face .

secure the area .

keep an eye on them .

look at yourself in the mirror .

run . run and don't stop .

eat . you haven't touched your food in days .

[afterglowkatie]

too early? | k.m./c.f.

katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 1.1k | it's never too early for christmas

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. i hope y'all like it and it makes up for the lack of fics lately!

‘Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that,’ Caitlin had come home to see the entire lounge covered in tinsel and christmas tree decorations with both you and Katie in the middle of it all singing and dancing to christmas music while putting up the christmas tree. 

Even if your mummy thought it was too early for christmas, she still cracked a smile at how adorable her two girls looked dressed up in christmas clothing, your hair in two little pigtails with tinsel wrapped around. Poor Coopurr was even dressed up and whenever he tried to sneak away you would grab him back until he curled up on the couch accepting his fate.

‘Mummy!’ You dropped everything in your hands, trying to run over to Caitlin despite all the obstacles in your way. Caitlin bent down, arms out, you always would run into her arms and she��d pick you up. But you stopped right before, ‘It’s never too early for Christmas, Mummy!’ Caitlin held back a little laugh, it was hard when you stood in front of her your arms crossed, with a little pout and your eyebrows furrowed. 

What made it even harder for Caitlin to not laugh was the fact Katie was a bit behind you with the same expression on her face, ‘Oh is that right?’ Disbelief flashed across your face at the thought your mummy would question you before a cheeky grin took over. You grabbed a handful of tinsel and threw it on top of Caitlin. With her still kneeling she ended up covered head to toe in tinsel.

‘Much better!’ You grinned, happy with yourself, grabbing hold of your mummy’s hand, ‘Come help me and mammy,’ The three of you finished decorating the christmas tree. Your mummy lifted you so you could reach the top of the tree so you could put the star on, with some help from your mammy of course.

‘Starfish,’ Your mammy called from the kitchen, she’d gone to make the three of you some hot chocolates while you and your mummy picked out a christmas movie for the three of you to watch. It didn’t take long for Caitlin to give up on the ‘it’s too early to start christmas’ since she was out numbered anyway. As soon as November hit it was time for Christmas.

You slid off of your mummy’s lap and made your way towards the kitchen, ‘Do you wanna show mummy what we got today?’ Katie handed you a little bag, your eyes lit up. You’d almost forgotten what you’d bought today while it was just you and mammy. Before you could run off your mammy reminded you to be careful, you walked carefully back to your mummy, you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

Katie was close behind you, somehow balancing the three hot chocolates, ‘Starfish and I have a surprise for you love,’ While leaning forward, handing Caitlin one of the hot chocolates she snuck in a little kiss. Smiling at each other, Katie attempted to sit next to Caitlin but it didn’t last long before you wedged yourself in between the pair. 

‘What you got there, starfish?’ Your mummy nodded towards the bag you were holding up while you were wiggling your way between them.

You held the bag away from Caitlin when she pretended to try to look inside the bag, ‘Close your eyes mummy,’ Katie leaned over to cover Caitlin’s eyes making sure she wasn’t peeking, ‘Mammy says be careful,’ Your mummy let out a little chuckle, whenever you wanted to come across more serious you always brought Katie into it. It was like if you said that your mammy said it then no one could ever go against it, you were the exception to that though with the amount of times you liked to push your mammy’s buttons.

Your mummy held her hands out and you carefully took out the little bauble and placed it in Caitlin’s hands. You picked out the colours and how it was decorated and personalised. You were quite proud of yourself, it was just like the ones you and your mammy had on the tree already. 

You sat back in your mammy’s lap, her hands leaving Caitlin’s eyes to wrap around you. Caitlin opened her eyes and instantly teared up at the present in her hands. Her smile reached her eyes, looking between you and the bauble. The bauble in Caitlin’s hands was forest green with silver writing on it, ‘mummy’ with the year underneath it was written across with little snowflakes all around.

The year was this year, when you started calling Caitlin mum/mummy. It matched the one you had with your name and the year you were born, along with Katie’s ‘mammy’ bauble. When you were getting it made Katie couldn’t decide between matching the year with yours and hers but she decided it would mean a bit more having the year you officially started calling Caitlin your mum.

‘Do you like it?’ You asked when you thought your mummy was silent for too long. Caitlin was taking it all in, processing everything. She was so grateful for the little family she had with you and Katie, forever thankful for being allowed to love and be loved by both you and Katie.

‘Starfish, I don’t like it. I love it,’ Caitlin had to add that she loves it quickly, seeing your face start to drop and the warning glare Katie started to send Caitlin’s way, ‘Come here,’ Your mummy gently gave your mammy the bauble to keep safe and scoped you up into her lap, her arms wrapping around you tightly, ‘I love you and I love the present so so much Starfish,’ 

You cuddled into your mummy, Caitlin glanced towards Katie, a smile thrown her way with a little thank you mouthed. Katie placed the bauble down where it would stay safe and threw herself on top of the two of you, joining in on the cuddles. ‘Mammy,’ you laughed out but wiggled enough to wrap one of your arms around your mammy as well. 

Eventually you grew impatient and wanted to see the bauble join yours and mammy’s on the tree. Caitlin stood up, holding you on her hip while she got the bauble, you reached out for your mammy’s hand, holding it while you all stood in front of the tree. The third bauble was the perfect addition and soon enough the three of you would be adding a fourth and who knows after that.

Both Katie and Caitlin’s hearts were full as the three of you cuddled up together on the couch, watching Christmas movies, movies that only Caitlin would stay awake throughout while her two girls fell asleep either side of her. Caitlin smiled, giving a small kiss to yours and your mammy’s foreheads while you slept. Life was perfect, even if Christmas started coming earlier and earlier every year.

[rafesbabygirlx]

What You Do To Me - Frat!Rafe x Pogue reader

Masterlist

Summary: You and Rafe were both from OBX just the opposite sides of the island. You also ended up at the same college. Continuing his reign as the most popular person on campus, he still is obsessed with you. You never gave him the time of day, and he decided he couldn’t wait anymore.

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Rafe and you knew of each other from OBX. He was the Kook king and you were the quiet Pogue. You never spoke to each other but would always hear his insults that he spewed to your friends and would watch his assaults on JJ and Pope. You were the only one to never notice the looks he would give you. You were never bothered by him, and that pissed him off. Girls on the island would do anything to be around him but you never gave him the time of day. Not around town, not at parties, not at the boneyard. It’s like he was invisible to you. 

With complete shock, you two ended up at the same college. You were there on scholarship and he was a year above you but you still ended up in the same writing class. He, of course, continued his reign of arrogance as president of his frat but what he didn’t know was how you blossomed the first year he was gone. You were confident in yourself, your hair grew out and the clothes you wore now hugged every curve just right. He’d notice you every day. Sometimes you’d smile at him as a courtesy but most of the time you’d walk in and just go to your seat. Just like how he continued his same ways, you continued yours with unintentionally ignoring him. 

Your roommate and two other friends dragged you out to a frat party. You didn’t know what frat and you didn’t care you couldn’t wait to have fun. You wore a shirt black dress and heels. The four of you smoked a joint on the walk and immediately headed to the kitchen and down 5 shots each.

It all hit you at once, you were pulled to the makeshift dance floor and you let yourself go. 

Rafe's eyes were locked onto you as he drank in every detail - the way your hips swayed with each move, the way your dress hugged her curvy frame, the way your long  hair fell in soft waves around your face. He couldn't take it anymore. He pushed through people to get you. He moved up silently, pressing his chest to your back. You invited the touch, even without knowing who it was, and moved one hand to his neck and the other to his thigh as you pushed yourself into him a little more and began to grind your hips. 

He moved his lips close to your ear and whispered, “Hey Pogue.” 

Your drunken heavy eyelids shot open and you froze at his words. You spun around to look at him. 

“Rafe?!” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He cocks his head as he takes all of you in up close. “I don’t remember you looking this good back in Kildare.” He smirks and runs a finger down your side. 

“Stop it.” You shoo away his hand and grab your roommate's arm and walk away. 

You’re silent for the rest of the night, avoiding him like the plague. You’re too caught up in your thoughts. What no one knew about you back in OBX was how attracted you were to Rafe. You know your friends would hate you for it, and he’d never be caught dead with a Pogue. So you were stuck, alone, with your feelings. The only way you knew how to let them go was to pretend he didn’t exist. 

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

A week had gone by and you stuck to your routine. Go to classes and ignore Rafe. Your Friday night writing class starts in 10 min and you arrive before Rafe. You sit in the front row so you don’t have to make eye contact. He comes in 5 minutes after you and looks at you but you don’t react, despite how hard it was not to. He sits in his usual spot in the back. 

Rafe sat in the lecture hall, antsy and agitated.  He couldn't take his eyes off the gorgeous girl a few rows ahead. You had no idea the effect you had on him. He'd fantasized about you countless nights, jerking off to the mental image of you tied to his bedposts, panting and spent from his dirty fantasies when he was done. 

When the mid-lecture break came, he couldn't take it any longer, he strode purposefully towards you at the front of the room.  "No more playing," he growled, into your ear. He wrapped his big hand around your wrist and yanked you up. 

Rafe barged into an empty classroom a few doors down, his eyes dark with lustful intent. He threw you up against the door, locking it behind you. "I’m gonna fuck you now, ok?" he muttered. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and looked at you, you looked back into his eyes and nodded. He followed with his shirt and then your sweatpants, exposing your lace bra and thong. 

"So damn sexy, you wear this to lecture?” he groaned and licked his lips. 

You whimpered when he grabbed your waist, already wet for him, knowing you couldn't resist his domineering possessiveness. His eyes smoldered with lustful promise. The unknown, built up tension between the two of you was finally being let go after all these years. 

“Fuck, I'm done waiting. You're mine," he vowed fiercely

Rafe couldn't take it anymore. In one fluid motion, he scooped you up, carrying you to the empty desk. He spread your legs out, getting comfortable in between, devouring your neck. 

"Tell me you're my good girl and get on your knees" he demanded possessively and roughly massaged your tits over your bra before unhooking it and throwing it somewhere in the room. You whimpered but didn't dare resist him. His eyes promised death if you tried to leave his room. You shifted on the desk sitting up on your knees. You give him puppy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’m-” you lean in closer to his ear. “Your very, very bad girl, Rafe.” 

He takes a deep breath and turns you around. Your knees skid across the desk. He pushes the top half of you down and then slips off your panties, so your ass is on full display for him. 

He spread your legs a little, shoving his tongue inside you. You yelped at the sudden feeling, but tried to stifle your cries. He ate you out roughly, shoving three fingers inside your dripping hole. 

"Tell me again, what's mine?" he growled out before lashing her clit with his tongue. 

"Oh fuck! Me! I'm all yours," you panted breathlessly, already on the edge from his filthy words.

He growled his approval before spreading her ass cheeks wide, eating her out roughly. He fucked her with his tongue, loving how she submitted to him. He ate your pussy and resumed fingered you until you were screaming and shaking. Your neck was sore from the bent over position you were in, and your knuckles are white from gripping the edges of the desk. Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks and he continues his movements until you come down from your high. He collapsed onto you, resting his head on your back. You stayed like that for a second, he pulled you up by your hair and turned you back around to face him. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then grabbed you by the neck and pulled you into a sloppy feverish kiss. He pulls away from you and cups his hands on your cheeks. He goes to kiss you again but misses your face as you sink to the floor. 

On the floor, you reached up to rub his cock over his pants. He pushes back a little, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, and you notice how hard he is, his cock straining against the material. You reach down and roughly unzip his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free, and you gasp at the sight of it, already standing tall and proud.

You grab his cock with one hand and stroke, resting the other on his thigh. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you marvel at the sheer size of him. You give his red tip a gentle kiss, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. You lick it off your lips, and he watches you intently, his eyes burning with desire.

As you look up at him, you can see the hunger in his gaze, and you know that he's ready to take things further. You can feel his cock pulsing in your hand, and you know that he's already close to coming. You lean in closer, running your tongue along the length of his shaft, and he groans in response.

He wraps his fingers around your hair, pulling you closer, and you feel his cock twitching against your lips. You take him deeper into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat. The sensation is intense, and you find yourself getting more and more turned on. You start to move your head slowly, taking him in and out of your mouth in a rhythm that seems to please him. His moans and grunts encourage you to continue, and you feel a sense of power and control as you bring him closer to climax. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you find yourself becoming more and more addicted to the sensation. You bob your head back and forth, using your hand to stoke the rest of him because he’s too big. You gag on his length, but continue your movements. 

You can feel his hips bucking against you, and you know that he's close to coming. You pull back, and he groans in protest, his cock still hard and ready. You look up at him, and he locks eyes with you, his eyes filled with lust and desire. You can feel his cock pulsing in your hand, and you know that he's ready to explode.

"You want to cum?" you ask, your voice husky with desire.

"You're fucking mine I fucking own you,," he repeated himself again. 

“You said that already.” You laugh, removing your hand from his cock and settling both on his thighs. 

He grabs your chin and leans down, “don’t tease me.” 

You smile, then open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue. The corner of Rafe’s mouth turns upwards and he silently understands what you're asking for. He grabs his cock and taps your tongue with the tip. He pulls your head back slightly and hovers over allowing him to enter you more deeply. As Rafe slowly starts to enter your mouth, you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement. You adjust your position and grip the back of his thighs to stabilize, your lips wrapping around him, and just as you're about to get used to the sensation, he suddenly slams his entire length down your throat. The force of his movement catches you off guard, and you feel a rush of air being pushed out of your lungs as you suck in a deep breath through your nose.

Rafe grunts loudly, his body tensing with pleasure as he feels the warmth of your throat enveloping him. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, and he starts to thrust, taking himself in and out of your mouth in a slow, rhythmic motion. The feeling is overpowering, and you find yourself getting more and more turned on as he uses you to continue to pleasure him.

The moans you release send vibrations throughout his body. You only add fuel to the fire once you hollow your cheeks and move your tongue with his thrusts, making the suction even more severe. Drool pools on your chin and slowly drips onto your knees. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you refuse to tap out.The taste of him fills your mouth, the scent of him is overwhelming as he slams into your mouth again and again. He's too powerful, too dominant. He's going to make you swallow every drop, and he's going to do it with a passion that leaves you breathless.

“Fuck baby.” He moans and throws his head back. 

You feel him twitch in your mouth. Rafe's eyes blaze with intensity as he starts to quicken his thrusts, his hips pumping wildly as he drives himself deeper into your throat. As he continues, he starts to groan, his voice low and husky. The sound sends shivers down your spine, and you feel yourself getting more and more turned on. You're not sure how much more you can take, but you know that you won't stop until he's finished.

Rafe's cock throbs on your tongue, and you can feel his precum dripping down the back of your throat. He's close, so close, and you know that he's going to cum hard. You start to swallow, your throat contracting around him, and he responds by increasing his thrusts even more.

You feel him hit deep in the back of your throat, and you gag hard, but he doesn't stop. He's too far gone, too lost in the moment. He's going to cum, and he's going to cum hard. And as he does, you feel his cock explode in your mouth, his cum flooding your throat and filling you up.

You swallow, your throat burning with the intensity of his release. And as he pulls out of you, his chest is heaving. You rest your hands on the floor, leaning over trying to catch your breath. He brushes the back of your head, and gives you his hand to pull you up. You lean against the desk and you both are still breathing heavily. 

As Rafe inches closer to you, you feel a sense of anticipation building. He settles in between your legs, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the hunger there. He lifts you up and sits you back down, your body weightless in his hands. You feel his tip poke your thigh, and you can't help but wonder how the hell he can still be hard.

But Rafe isn't interested in taking it slow. He moves his hand down and begins to rub your clit, his fingers expertly stroking the sensitive flesh. You throw your head back in pleasure, your body arching towards him as he teases you. You're sopping wet, your pussy aching to feel him, and you know that it won't be long before you cum again.

But Rafe has other plans. He moves his hand away from your clit and positions himself at your entrance. You feel his tip pressing against you, and you gasp as he enters you in one brutal thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, the force of his movement makes your head spin. You feel him stretch you out, filling you up in a way that makes you feel alive.

He leaves no room for adjustment, pounding into you hard and fast. The only sound is the slapping of their bare skin, harsh grunts, and your breathy moans. You can feel your nipples rubbing against his chest, the friction sending sparks through your body. Your hair is tangled in his fists, and he pulls your head back, his fingers digging into your scalp as he continues to fuck you. He licks, and nips at your neck, the overstimulation has you squirming beneath, but he tugs on your hair harder to keep you still.

You try to push back against him, to meet his thrusts, but he's too strong. He's in control, and he's going to take what he wants. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, and you know that he's close. You're close too, the intensity of the moment pushing you towards orgasm.

As he continues to fuck you, you start to feel your body tense, your muscles contracting with pleasure. You can feel your clit throbbing, and you know that you're going to cum. And as you do, you feel Rafe's cock explode inside you, his cum filling you up as he continues to pump into you.

He finally pulls out of you, completely out of breath. You lie there, your body still trembling with pleasure. “Don’t think, I’m done with you.” He smirks, pulling you into another kiss. 

Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, and then he spun you around, bending you over the desk. He spread your legs, exposing your pussy, dripping with his cum, to him. He grabbed his cock and pushed it against your entrance, and then he thrusted hard, slamming into you again. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body taking his thick cock. He fucked you hard, his hips slamming into you, and you could feel yourself getting closer to yet another orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Cum for me again..."

You moaned in agreement, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. He pulled you up against him, your back to his chest, one hand around your throat. The other reached down and rubbed your clit, sending you over the edge. You came apart in his arms, screaming his name as he followed right behind you. 

"You're it, baby. My everything," he swore, his eyes filled with a dangerous possessiveness. After all this time, he finally had you

You screamed in pleasure, your body convulsing around his cock, as he came with a roar, filling you with his seed.

He collapsed on the desk next to you, both of you  trying to catch your breath. He turned your face to his and he kissed you deeply,

"Your mine, say it, let me hear it again," he demanded between kisses. 

“I’m yours, Rafe.”

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

Taglist - click the link to join

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite

[freakassfemme]

save a turkey, stuff a masc [shorts, 18+]

this year I'm thankful for bottom Ellie and Abby fics and im thankful for sub mascs everywhere all the time

cw: not proof read one bit (I literally wasn't even wearing my glasses when I wrote this and I wrote it in 20 minutes so forgive my spelling errors), bottom abby and ellie, reader is strapped up, choking, slight degradation if you squint (?)

♫ supersoaker (eartheater)

🍒 ellie

Ellie's so easy to wrangle after a night like this. Another one filled with the awkward tensions between her and Joel, pretending everything between them is fine when it's not, when it's actually so fucking complicated that she could rip her own skull off given the chance, just to quiet the throbbing complications swelling in her mind.

Of course, you would never let it get that far. You've grown accustomed to Ellie's frustrations and the signs of it -- her tense shoulders, the way she sucked in her lips, kneads her brows together and goes quiet, considering it safer than arguing some more.

So when the night has finally concluded and you two are relieved from awkward family obligations to return back to the little makeshift studio garage Ellie calls her "place", you're quick to find a way to melt these tensions.

Like I said, she's easy, easy to lay out on her back like this, knees pressed to her chest and hair left down and astray. The auburn strands stick to her forehead, covering some of her freckles as she whimpers and pants up at you.

"Shit, fuck, oh my god --"

Ellie's barely able to keep her eyes open when you're like this, her hands bracing themselves on your wrist as you pound relentlessly into her. You pull pitiful moans out of her as you hold her still with a palm to her pale throat, fingers experimentally tightening as she grows inconsolable, long nails threatening to stab at her if she isn't careful to hold still and take what you give her.

"Shhh, shh, I know sweetheart," you're purring. The combined scent of her previous orgasms and your sickeningly sweet perfume melting off of your warm body makes her head spin, body shaking underneath you uncontrollably.

"Fuck, I don't know if I can," she grunts out, chest heaving as one of her fists slams down on the mattress, balling the sheets and hitting them down again. She can feel her heart pounding in her skull, and she's lightheaded from uselessly trying to catch her breath.

Your thumb traces her bottom lip as Ellie's breathing becomes more erratic, more choked up, and her eyes begin to water. You've climbed so far over her that she can hardly see anything except you, her pretty, sweet girl, with such sinful and disgusting words falling from your plush lips between the sounds of your hips slapping against her utterly soaked cunt. And god, does she look good like this, left in only her t-shirt and bra pulled just enough over her chest to give you a good view and something to play with when she gets antsy.

"No, don't say that baby," you chide softly, as if you aren't dripping from your core, down between the straps of your harness, and on to the bed yourself. As if you aren't fighting to bury the toy to the hilt inside of her and fucking burst. You readjust yourself, sitting up straighter so her pleading eyes don't make you change your mind.

"I know you can, you can take another one f'me."

Ellie gulps down air greedily as your fingers move away from her throat and down to her clit, toying with the bud as she begins to squirm, moans growing higher pitched and so, so desperate.

"See, I knew you weren't done," you huff, giggling down at her. Her cheeks grow pink from embarrassment, and she tries to turn away, but you stop her. You turn her face back towards you with your free hand, making her watch you as you work her through the beginning of her fourth orgasm.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me, sweet girl. Gonna fuck you stupid, huh?"

🍒 abby

Abby's not so easy. She takes some work, some forethought to get under your strap, but you know the drill.

You've been sweetening her up all day, making her a plate and bringing it to her so she doesn't even have to get up from the football game that she and Manny had been screaming at all morning. You'd been lounging on the side of the couch, nails tracing over her back, picking at the shiny material of her jersey and gently pulling the ponytail out of her braid.

You've got your fingers in the loose strands of her hair, nails softly scratching at her scalp when Manny calls the game, waving it off and heading out the door a few moments later, though that wasn't necessarily like him, Abby had commented. She wondered if he was okay, if they had cooked the turkey all the way through. She felt fine, but you were sure Manny had just grown uncomfortable around you openly eyeing her.

You don't say anything of it though, shrugging it off and packing away the dinner's leftovers. Abby's helpful and sweet as always, pressing a soft kiss to your temple that has you turning with a predatory glint in your eye. This went unnoticed by the larger woman, and she continued not to notice until your arms were wrapping around her from behind, warm palm climbing up her chest and under her shirt until you can play with the elastic of her bra. She had laughed, taking it for a joke until your other hand slips below her waistband, and then her hands are tightening on the counter and she's sucking in a breath.

After that, it isn't long before you're shoving Abby's face into the mattress. You're holding her wrists at the small of her back, and the bulging veins and muscle in her forearms make your delicate hands and long nails look almost laughable, like a piece of paper tying some dumbbells together, but she doesn't dare to fight your grasp. Rather, she melts right into it.

"Shit, mmph," she grunts turning her head so she can gasp in the cold air of the room. Your nails dig into her hair, wrapping it around your wrist and pulling her up so her back is arched, and she can just barely see the reflection of your tangled bodies in the mirror over the tip of her nose.

"Fuck!" She grunts out, dragging out the vowel and bordering it with a strained growl. "Fuck, it's deep, it's really, really deep, ohmygod --"

You're giggling behind her, panting softly as a lazy smirk meets her contorted face in the glass.

"You're greedy, Abs," you hum, annunciating your words with even heavier snaps of your hips that have her eyes rolling back and her clit pulsing deliciously. "She's sucking me in, baby, knew you needed this, huh?"

Abby's head bobs and nods pathetically as you continue your brutal pace, an angelic whine of uh-huh forced out of her parted lips.

You tsk, shaking your head.

"'s not gonna cut it, baby," you chide, letting go of her hair to exchange it for her jaw, pulling her warm back against your front and pressing soft kisses along her shoulder. "Use your words."

Abby lets out an almost heartbreaking moan, a mix of frustration and pleasure filling your ears as she can barely hold in enough oxygen to breath, let alone admit how badly she needed to be broken in like some sort of fucking dog in heat.

Still, you don't give up, growing more cocky and demanding as she falls further and further into you, head drunk and dumb on your cock.

"Come on, angel, I won't tell anyone how much you like it."

[marmorada]

This could not possibly get more embarrassing for you. Like I don't even see what the point is to responding logically to this level of rabid fanfiction bullshit, but since you can't drop it I might as well say something since you've finally said something on the actual post instead of lying to your followers about what prompted this outburst. No amount of whataboutism is going to cover up the fact that you don't care if brown men rape brown women. OOP here is a literal antizionist who agrees with you on every other metric and you couldn't even leave her alone because she dared to care. My "racist" crime is, apparently, believing that all men commit marital rape at the same rate. Or are you going to pretend I haven't brought up American martial rape laws ad nauseam?

Here's a quick reminder that all it took for this one-sided little feud to start was you reblogging a post saying "omg what did you expect the Palestinians to do though!!!" on the same day of the pogrom before any military response and flipping your everloving shit when I responded with "I expected them not to rape any innocent women". This previous reblog on this chain was the only way I have ever come close to speaking to you since that one comment in October 2023. And you are acting like I have come up to you and told you to drop dead.

Everyone can see I didn't. Everyone. I am framing you as overreacting because you are. (Being big mad about this won't cover up the rape apologia either.) Here you are a month later absolutely stewing because I never took the bait. I dare you to find even a single post where I advocated for killing a single Palestinian-- you can't. You've just decided that Hamas terrorists are 1:1 with the people they abuse, or perhaps, you are so propaganda poisoned that any support for native Jews is me hoping you die. Just the fact that I haven't responded to your continued messages and am not doing anything to bully or fuck with you is apparently sending you into the stratosphere.

This is the behavior of an antisemite DESPERATELY outrunning her own guilt and STRUGGLING to reconcile the person you KNOW I am from our years of being mutuals with this ridiculous image you have created. You can never stop acting this way because the second you stop, you might realize how you are behaving and why.

Peace.

Screaming.

Me: "You'd think these Palestinian men would stop impregnating these women while they're actively running from bombs."

Him: "It takes two to tango."

Me: "..Sir it's rape. It's marital rape. These women feel like they have to perform. There is actively NO WAY they want to be having a baby lying in dirt and blood."

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[puppym3]

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

wc: 3.4k

warnings: MDNI 18+, fluff, humor, a lot of cringy but cute back-and-forth, changbin almost burns the house down, oral (f and m rec), overstim, ingestion of certain fluid, they're in love fr

a/n: me going through my inbox is just a way for me to delay having to finish my lee know fic :( BUT I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SM thank you anon i love u

♡.﹀﹀ ﹀﹀.♡

The kitchen smelled like ambition.

Or maybe it was just the faint aroma of something on the verge of burning.

“Bin,” you called, watching your boyfriend juggle chopping onions, stirring a pot of boiling water, and checking the oven. His brow glistened with concentration, his tongue poking out in that adorable way he always did when he was trying too hard. “You’re gonna lose control of this entire operation.”

“No, I’m not!” Changbin barked, glancing between the stovetop and the cutting board like they were part of a high-stakes mission. “I’ve got this!”

It was a bold statement for someone whose onions were uneven, whose pasta water threatened to overflow, and whose oven timer was blinking aggressively like a silent SOS.

You leaned against the counter, trying to contain a smile. After weeks of playful jabs about his limited culinary repertoire, Changbin had insisted he’d cook dinner tonight. Secret lessons with Chan and Felix had boosted his confidence, but clearly, multitasking wasn’t part of the curriculum.

“I don’t mean to sound dramatic,” you teased, eyeing the smoke wafting from the pan, “but I think something’s dying over there.”

He whipped around, panicked, spotting the chicken in the skillet that was quickly approaching charred territory. “Oh no, no, no!” Grabbing the spatula, he flipped the pieces frantically, knocking a spoon off the counter in the process.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore; you burst out laughing. “You’re trying so hard! Look at you!”

“Stop laughing!” he pouted, eyes wide and a little frantic. “I’m doing this for you, you know!”

Your heart melted. He was a sweaty, stressed-out, multitasking mess, but he was your mess. Crossing the room, you leaned over and plucked the spatula from his hands, gently pushing him aside. “Okay, okay. Let me help before we set the smoke alarm off.”

Changbin groaned, leaning his head against the cabinet in defeat. “I really thought I could do it all.”

“You can do it all. Just… not all at once.” You grinned, tilting his chin up so you could look into his dark, sulky eyes. “But you’re trying, and that’s so sweet. You deserve a kiss for that.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in and pecked him on the lips. His scowl melted instantly.

“And another kiss for being so cute while you’re at it,” you added, stealing another quick one.

Changbin narrowed his eyes, a mischievous smile creeping onto his lips. “Are you bribing me with kisses to get me out of cooking duty?”

“Is it working?”

“Absolutely.”

The kitchen forgotten, Changbin pulled you close, his hands warm against your waist. His lips found yours, softer and slower this time, his earlier stress dissolving into something sweeter. But, of course, it wouldn’t be Changbin without a little chaos, his foot accidentally knocked into the open oven door, jolting both of you.

“Careful!” you yelped, pulling back as he winced.

“See? I can’t even focus on kissing you without messing something up.” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head.

“Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, stroking his cheek. “Maybe multitasking isn’t your thing, but you’ve got other talents.”

“Like what?” His tone was skeptical, but his grin was boyish, teasing.

“Hmm, let’s see…” You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “You’re great at lifting heavy things, making me laugh, being ridiculously hot…”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Ridiculously hot, huh?”

"Mmmhm, especially in this incredibly sexy apron. And in general, actually." You reached around him, giving his ass a little squeeze. "This is also a good asset."

He snorted, pulling you close and nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And my incredibly tall height? What about that?"

"Oh, I've always been attracted to short sexy men."

You squealed, bursting into giggles as he began to tickle your sides. He lifted you off the ground easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him soundly.

"See, lifting heavy things," you said breathlessly as he lowered you.

Changbin set you back on the ground gently, his grin widening at your flushed cheeks and breathless laughter. “I’m glad my assets are appreciated,” he teased, his deep voice dripping with playful arrogance.

“Oh, more than appreciated,” you shot back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Adored. Worshipped. Cherished, even.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly against him. “You better not be saying all this just to distract me from cooking.”

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, leaning closer until your lips brushed his ear. “Because I’d rather have you focus on me instead of burning down the apartment.”

Changbin’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “Dangerous,” he murmured, his voice lower now, laced with something that made your stomach flutter. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

You tilted your head, brushing a kiss along his jaw. “Am I?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he turned, pinning you gently against the counter, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You know I’m bad at multitasking,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from yours. “So if you want all my attention, you’re gonna get it.”

Your teasing grin faltered under his heated gaze, your heart hammering as his hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips met yours with more intensity this time, his earlier playfulness replaced with something deeper, hungrier.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hands roaming as he pressed you against the cool counter. You could feel the warmth of his body, the firmness of his chest against yours, and the way his lips moved with an urgency that made your knees weak.

“Changbin,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your lips, his mouth curving into a mischievous smile.

“You’re gonna forget about the stove,” you managed to gasp between kisses.

“Let it burn,” he growled, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, anchoring him in place as his lips found the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You gasped, tilting your head back as he kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to send shivers racing down your spine. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and firm as he explored the curve of your waist.

“You’re so distracting,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice tinged with mock frustration. “How am I supposed to focus on anything when you look at me like that?”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you shot back, tugging at his shirt.

He grinned, stepping back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before diving back in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The combination of his warmth, his strength, and the way he was completely focused on you was enough to make your head spin.

Your fingers trailed over the toned muscles of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the way they tensed under your touch. “Ridiculously hot,” you muttered, earning a breathy laugh from him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” he quipped, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

His hands gripped your thighs, sliding higher as his kisses became slower, more deliberate, each one drawing a soft sound from your lips. You tugged him closer, lost in the heat of the moment until—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You jumped, pulling back with a start as the smoke alarm screeched through the room. Changbin spun around, swearing under his breath as he hurried to turn the stove off, the chicken now burned beyond recognition.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing the pan and moving it to the sink, a thick trail of smoke following in his wake.

You hopped off the counter, hurrying to open the window, hoping the cold winter air would help dissipate the smoke. After a few moments, the beeping finally stopped, leaving just you, dying with laughter, reeling from the adrenaline and Changbin, standing shirtless and slightly embarrassed, surrounded by a cloud of smoke.

"So much for dinner," he muttered, shooting you a sheepish smile.

"I can think of something else we can have for dinner," you said, crossing the room and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that?"

You smirked, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Something that you can put all of your attention into," you whispered, feeling him shiver as your words ghosted across his lips.

"And what's that?" he asked, his voice lower now, thick with the desire you knew had been simmering between the two of you since the beginning.

"Me."

"You sure about that? I might just burn more than the dinner if I focus on you."

You grinned, tracing the edge of his jaw with your finger. "Well, it’s not like you're any good at multitasking anyway," you teased, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’m sure you can handle me just fine if you give me your full attention."

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Oh, I’m about to give you all my attention, baby. Trust me, you won’t be complaining."

A flutter of excitement washed over you at his words, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Good. Because if I’m the only thing on your mind right now, I might just make you forget everything else… including that chicken you ruined."

"Forget the chicken?" Changbin murmured, his lips brushing against your neck as he nipped gently at the soft skin there. "What chicken?"

You sighed, your breath hitching as his hands slid down to grip your hips, his thumbs brushing over the waistband of your jeans. "You’re getting bold, huh?" you teased, glancing up at him with a challenging look.

"Bold?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a deep, almost sinful tone.

The air between you two grew thicker with tension as he pressed you up against the counter again, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to imprint himself on you, claiming you in every way he knew how.

You moaned softly against his lips, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under your touch. "Maybe you are good at focusing on just one thing," you teased, pulling away slightly, your voice breathless.

Changbin’s smile grew, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, sending a jolt of heat through you. "And I can assure you, you’re going to be my only focus tonight."

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. His hands roamed lower, tracing the curves of your body as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing into yours as if he couldn't get enough.

You couldn't either.

You tugged at his belt, trying to free the buckle, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours. "You're not the only one who can get distracted," you panted, finally getting the stubborn thing undone.

Changbin grinned, his hands finding their way under the waistband of your jeans, squeezing the flesh of your ass and making you gasp. "Aren't you going to let me eat my meal up? You did promise me dinner," he teased, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Who says you're the only one eating tonight?"

"Oh, really? Is that a challenge, baby?" His hands were back on the button of your pants, quickly undoing them and sliding them down your hips. "Because if it is, I'm ready."

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, reveling in the way he groaned against you, the sound sending a rush of heat straight between your legs. "Bring it," you murmured, tugging at his belt loops.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you close, his hands firm and steady as he lifted you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, and your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly as he carried you into the bedroom.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that had your skin buzzing with anticipation.

"Now," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Where were we?"

You arched into his touch, desperate for more. "Right about here, I think."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That's right."

His hands were back under your shirt, sliding the fabric over your head before tossing it aside. You were already working on his buttoned pants, tugging the zipper down as he unclasped your bra, the garment quickly joining the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Changbin took a moment to admire you, his gaze trailing over your naked body, a fire in his eyes that had you aching for him.

"I'm definitely hungry now," he muttered, his voice thick with desire.

"So am I," you whispered, tugging at his waistband. "Take these off and feed me."

"Bossy." He grinned, quickly discarding his remaining clothes. "Is this better?"

You bit your lip, your eyes drinking in the sight of him, naked and hard and waiting for you. "Much better."

Without another word, he leaned down, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shivered, a soft moan escaping your lips as his tongue traced circles around your clit, teasing you relentlessly.

Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to anchor yourself, but it was impossible when his touch was setting every nerve ending alight. His fingers parted you, and his tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you in long, languid strokes.

"F-fuck," you gasped, the pleasure washing over you in waves.

Changbin smiled against you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he continued his delicious torture, his tongue exploring every inch of you until you were a whimpering mess.

"Oh my god," you panted, your back arching off the bed as he slid two fingers inside of you, his movements slow and deliberate.

"This tastes way better than any burnt chicken," he murmured, his breath hot against you.

Before you could respond, he curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot deep inside you and making you cry out. "Shit, right there."

"Mmm, like that, baby?" he asked, his tone low and teasing.

"Y-yes," you moaned, unable to stop the string of whimpers that fell from your lips.

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out of you while his tongue lapped at your clit, the combined sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair, your hips bucking as the pleasure built, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation.

"Changbin, I'm gonna—"

Your words were cut off by a loud moan as the orgasm crashed over you, his tongue and fingers guiding you through the wave of ecstasy.

You collapsed against the mattress, gasping for breath, your whole body tingling with satisfaction.

"God, you taste so fucking good," Changbin groaned, his lips moving over your clit in slow, lazy circles as he worked you down from your high.

"Wait- wait," you managed to say between gasps, tugging at his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes dark and filled with lust. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, just- fuck, I need a minute," you said, trying to catch your breath.

Changbin's lips curved into a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint. "No can do, baby. I'm hungry, and you promised me dinner."

With that, he leaned down, his mouth finding your sensitive clit once again, his tongue moving with renewed intensity. You cried out, overstimulation making sparks shoot down your spine.

"Wait- fuck!"

He ignored your pleas, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue swirled around your clit, his pace quickening. Your moans filled the room, the sound echoing off the walls as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh my god, Changbin," you gasped, your hands grasping at the sheets, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

His fingers dug into your thighs, the pressure almost bruising as he pulled you closer, his tongue flicking over your clit, relentless and demanding.

"Changbin- I- fuck, I'm gonna—"

The rest of the words died on your lips, swallowed by the scream that ripped from your throat as the orgasm tore through you. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work over your clit, drawing the pleasure out until you were shaking and trembling beneath him.

"Holy fuck," you breathed, the room spinning as you struggled to catch your breath.

"That's what I like to hear," Changbin murmured, his lips grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

"Jesus, Bin, give me a second," you said, still gasping for air.

He grinned, sitting up and looking at you with a smug expression. "What's the matter, baby? Can't keep up with me?"

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. "It's just, I think it's not fair if you get to eat and I can't."

He tilted his head, considering your words. "I guess you're right."

"And you know what's really not fair? Not being able to take a breather after a mind-blowing orgasm."

"You're the one who said I should put all my attention on one thing," he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean like that."

"Hmm, I think you did," he replied, leaning in and kissing the spot right behind your ear, the one that always made your toes curl.

"You're insatiable," you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand trailed over the curve of your waist, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You pushed him back, not giving him a chance to catch you off guard again, finding your way in between his legs. "My turn," you smirked, running your fingers along the length of his cock.

His breath hitched, his eyes following your movements intently, darkening with desire.

You leaned forward, kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. He let out a low groan, his hand tangling in your hair, his grip firm but gentle.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice strained.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan around him, the sound vibrating through your lips.

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let out a string of curses.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he gasped, his hips bucking against your mouth.

You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression making heat pool in the pit of your stomach. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, and his face was flushed with desire.

"Baby, please," he moaned, his voice low and raspy.

You continued to suck him off, working your tongue along the underside of his cock, reveling in the way he came undone under your touch.

"Fuck, I'm close," he warned, his fingers tightening in your hair.

You didn't let up, your hands gripping his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke.

His grip on your hair tightened, his hips bucking erratically as he neared the edge.

"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal.

You moaned, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He came with a strangled cry, his release spilling down your throat.

You swallowed every drop, your eyes never leaving his as you worked him through his orgasm. The taste was addictive, and you couldn't help but lick him clean, savoring every moment.

"Fuck," he breathed, his body trembling.

"See, that's not so bad, is it?" you teased, sitting back on your heels and licking your lips.

"Not bad at all," he panted, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

You kissed the tip of his cock, smiling up at him. "Good."

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his eyes glazed over with pleasure.

You grinned, crawling up the bed and settling next to him, your head resting on his chest. "Good."

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're amazing."

"I know."

"And so fucking sexy," he added, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone.

"I know that too."

Before he could say anything else, you heard his stomach growl, making you giggle. "Maybe we should order some actual food."

"Mmm, good idea," he said, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

taglist for my lovelies : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @honeyybbuubblleess

[thesassypadawan]

Stuffed (Clay x WifeReader)

Summary:  Thanksgiving, a time to gather together with loved ones and friends.  To, well, give thanks and show how much you appreciate one another…by stuffing yourself full of all the delicious eats.  Which your loving husband is more than happy to do…until you gobble and wobble.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Fun from behind (giddy up), inappropriate table manners, manipulative/possessive Clay, and…  his thick, long dick.

Notes: Happy Thanksgiving all you, lovelies! 🧡❤️

- Hand glides over your pillowy thigh, palm resting a touch too high.  Fingers play with the hem of your nearly inappropriate dress; the one he chose, insisted told you wear.  “What’s the matter, mama…”  Pushing, sliding the material higher and higher.  Exposing more of your supple flesh to the warm kitchen air.  “You’re so quite…”

- Tips press against your flimsy panties, the skimpy pair he laid out this morning.  Rubbing, massaging them into your soaked folds.  “Barely touched your meal…”  The brush of the lacey fabric, accompanied with his wedding ring grazing your pudgy mound.  Forcing you to swallow down each tiny gasp and coo, keep your lips sealed tightly.  “Did I cut the pieces too big for you…”

- Nudging them aside, he slips two long digits into your drooling cunny.  Curling teasingly, dragging them agonizingly slow.  “Peanut giving you grief…”  All the while carelessly carrying on, pretending like you’re not struggling to keep up with the conversation.  Ignoring the fact that you’re sitting in front of your whole extended family, a mess of sticky arousal pooling between your thick legs.  “Tummy upset…”

- Adding a third, pumping slightly faster.  Mind grows increasingly more hazy, hardly able to comprehend the words he’s saying.  “Do you need to lay down for a bit…”  You begin to tremble, shake in your seat.  As Clay nonchalantly sets his wine glass down, leans in close.  Hand settling on top of your bountiful bump, thumb running along its gentle swell.  “Is my little turkey already that stuffed…”

- Somehow you manage to nod in agreement.  Suppressing the whimper that threatens to fly loose when he abruptly removes, mumbling weakly.  “Y-yes…  Can yo-you help me to t-the guestroom, hub-hubby…”

- Tugging, pulling your dress and panties back in place.  He casually wipes off your slick on the patchwork tablecloth, before draping a comforting arm over your shoulders.  “Of course, but let’s make a small stop at the bathroom first,” he mutters, voice caring and yet commanding.  “All right…sweetheart.”

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- The soft clanking of plates, sound of muffled laughter filters through the paper-thin walls.  Mixing with the loud clinking of his belt buckle hitting your thighs, the almost deafening slap of his hips against yours.

- Bent over the sink, skirt bunched up high on your waist.  “Sssh, need to be quiet…”  Big hand covers, long fingers shoved into your mouth; attempting to stifle the small squeals that escape.  “Need you to be my good girl…”  When the bottom of your bare stomach kisses the cool porcelain with each rough drive.  “Unless…”

- Saliva coated digits trail and descend, wind around your throat.  Squeezing it tenderly, hold firm.  “Unless you want them all to hear…”  Clay forces you to stare at your disheveled reflection; to gaze into his darkened, blue eyes.  Tongue dragging slowly, tantalizingly over the shell of your ear.  “Hear all those lovely noises you make for me…”

- Pace increases, becomes wilder.  Your hands scramble, slip on the smooth surface in a desperate attempt to brace yourself better against his unrestrained thrusts.  To center yourself against the onslaught of raw pleasures that ravage your hormonal, bloated body.  “How well I take care of their precious daughter…”

- Palm kneads, gropes your ample love handle.  Harshly, bruisingly before moving lower.  Gliding across your round tummy, cradling it possessively.  “How you ended up and will stay like this…”

- Grip on your delicate column tightens.  Ring digs, leaves an impression on the sensitive flesh.  “That’s what you want, don’t you…”  Addled brain begins to spiral, pussy clenches and flutters franticly.  Stars burst, vison begins to fade to white.  “For them all to hear how completely I ruin you, to know how utterly you’re mine…”

- Slamming into you one final time, fat tip punches your poor cervix.  Knocking the remaining air from your lungs, causing a mess of strangled mewls and whines spill from your lips.  “Yes…yes…”  As you gush all over his thick length, while he packs your abused pussy to the brim with his hot seed.  “All…all…yours, Clay…”

- Slumping forward, pressing his broad chest to your back.  He loosens his hold, showers your neck and shoulders with sweet kisses.  “That’s my pretty wifey…”  Caressing and rubbing your bump lovingly, droplets of your combined releases trickle down your legs.  “Now, let’s clean you up…  Get you some dessert…  Fill you with the other kind of cream…  Until you’re absolutely stuffed…”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @anakinstwinklebunny, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @beresfordsgirl, @kenmaiica, @sythethecarrot, @xx-ttamaraa, @everydaydreamer, @rafeswifeyy2, @laoif, @xhunnybeeex, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @reaperr-of-souls, @r0ttenz0mb1e, @anisdolly, @milliesrealgf, @ala2ilas-s