#trying to get less dizzy or whatever

[kulliare]

bro it has been so rough lately

[shoyoist]

── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 : VI.

content: 2k words ! fem reader, pit fighter!vi, fwb dynamic. this is obviously sapphic. vi tops and she has a strap, rough sεx, cunnilingus, spit, slapping (not on the face), usage of petnames like 'princess' and 'baby', a lil angsty and tense, mentions of sεx work, p<3rn with plot!!

— . ｡˚ ♡ turns out, vi needed a rebound too.

vi is rougher and quieter than usual tonight.

shedding her clothes and pulling on the strap you've left on the bedside table for her, she climbs wordlessly onto your creaky mattress to get to you. you've been laying in bed for hours, all dolled up for her, and she doesn't really even look at you— it makes your heart sink a little.

you wrap your arms around her anyway, allowing her to touch you, and with a soft sigh, she gives the swell of your chest a kiss, 'hello'.

the pallid light coming through your window outlines her body in pale blue, and her smell invades your senses as she leans into your body, pressing her weight on you. 

gripping the soft underside of your thighs harshly, digging her nails into your tender skin, she pushes your knees to your chest. "you missed me, princess?"

"mmm, i did." you're looking at her with the most innocent gaze you can muster, eyes wet and lips pouty, and she leans in to give them a kiss just like you want her to. her mouth tastes sour enough of sweat and cheap alcohol to make you wince— but when she pulls back, you feel a twinge of disappointment that it doesn't last long enough.

fresh out of a fight, she's still full of adrenaline — and wastes no time on foreplay. hooking your legs over those broad shoulders of hers, she spits onto your cunt and gets right to it. 

her eyes roll halfway back into her head as she slips the strap into your cunt, like she can feel the way your pussy grips it. throwing her head back, she moans hoarsely, in sync with the sweet whine that comes out of your mouth as she rolls her hips into yours, sliding the strap all the way in. "that's a good girl, fuck."

yes. you are a good girl. her good girl.

vi has been coming to you every night or so, for a few months now — and at first it was just a good deal of sex for you both. but lately, you've found yourself less interested in the sex she offers you, and more interested in the woman herself.

your room is dark, like it always is when she comes over, and the harsh pleasure she gives you always turns your mind cloudy — but nothing can sway the watchful gaze you fix onto vi whenever you're in her arms. through half-closed eyes, you count the nicks and bruises that line the base of her throat and her shoulders and arms. the scratches and cuts, redder because she's flushed, drunk and exerting herself.

twelve new marks since last time. you wonder if she won tonight's fight or if she lost. the way she fucks you doesn't make a difference, so you can't tell — what you do know is that she comes to you seeking an escape from frustrations that stem from something unrelated to the fights entirely. 

and whatever it is, it frustrates her a lot.

she seems especially bothered tonight. you try to hold onto her, nails scratching at her muscled back as you struggle to maintain your grip. her pace is dizzying, and her grip on your body doesn't get lighter. she fucks you nearly like she wants you dead. "vi, vi—"

"you're doin' good, baby." she hisses, eyes shut. "g'nna make you cum in a bit, kay? just let me see you take my strap first. pretty thing."

and you take it — like a good girl. how could you not? when she acts like she's ravenous about you? when, with how she puts those dead eyes and calloused hands and busted lips on you, she makes you feel something no one else ever has?

she looks so good, too — so hot, with the dark hair, the ashy streaks running down her face, the lipstick smudged down her bottom lip that's just slightly fuller than her top lip — and the muscles, god.

her tits aren't nearly big enough to hang in your face while she's on top, but they bounce a little with each snap of her hips, and the sight mesmerizes you. she laughs softly when your pussy squelches for her — and it makes your heart flutter. fuck. you might just be in love with this ghost of a woman. "vi, please."

"you like that?" she hums, landing a kiss on the side of your knee that leaves a bit of lipstick stained on your skin. "y'like it when i fuck you to bits?"

"mhm," you choke out, keeping your eyes on her so you don't miss it when she looks at you. "wanna cum, make me cum, please."

the strap slides out of you as smoothly as it slid in — and heat rises to your cheeks when vi stares at how your cunt clenches around nothing. "can't say no to you when you ask so nicely." she reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, giving you that half-smile that makes your heart twist just as much as your gut.

"look at you." she lowers her face to your chest, lips tracing kisses downward. one hand comes up to squeeze at your tits, soft and sharp at the same time, index finger and thumb teasing your nipple and making you keen. "pretty, pretty thing."

she nudges your legs apart, getting comfortable between them. her other hand toys with your cunt, middle and ring finger slowly coaxing their way into your hole like she's learning to be gentle now. your body tenses with anticipation, feeling the way her lips get closer and closer to where you want them to go. "ngh. just—please."

the first flick of her tongue on your clit makes you gasp, body rocking in reaction— and vi slaps your thigh. "shhh," is all she says, but it makes you behave. she spreads your pussy open with her fingers like it's a flower, and takes you whole.

the wet sounds of a mouth on a cunt fill your shoddy little room, and you moan and shudder in vi's arms, caged in her hold as she draws the orgasm out of you.

and she does it so quickly, having learned what touches of her tongue your clit likes best, how you like having her fingers, when to add the extra tug to your nipples. she makes you go insane so easily.

like she took the time to figure out how to do it. like she cared enough to do that. like she might just l—

the white-hot rush of pleasure hits you, and all your thoughts dissipate. you grab vi's hair, digging your fingers into the dyed locks, keeping her face where you want it. "mmm, fuck, just like that—vi, just like that, please—"

she slaps your thigh again, but you relent only slightly. she licks up your slick, adjusting her position so she can fuck you better with her fingers, and you tremble under her as she curls her digits into your sweetest spots, wave after wave of bliss washing over you with each touch. the bed creaks like the weak boards under your mattress might snap, but you don't even hear it. "god."

once you're not shaking so much anymore, the high peaking and falling past, she comes up and kisses you — and you know your face and body are full of inky lipstick marks by now. it's almost romantic.

then, it's over.

vi pulls away, letting go of you and sitting up.

"ugh." you slump into the bed, hiding the pang of hurt that fills you. "you . . . don't want me to do you? or . . get you a drink?"

"not tonight. think i'm wasted enough." vi wipes her mouth off, stretching her neck to one side till there's a pop — and gets off the bed. you notice how her lips are entirely clean of the onyx that they were. "hey, you sure you don't want me to pay you?"

and there it is. the moment of intimacy dissolves like a grain of sugar into the vastness of the sea. it's home time.

"no, it's fine." you wave her off, turning away. you watch discreetly through your mirror as she looks around at the little box you live in.

"are you sure? . . i can cough something up." she asks again, and though you're slightly offended, you know what she means. your place is a single room that's barely a six by ten, small rickety bed and a desk with the mirror, a rack for the few clothes you own, and nothing else really. you share a bathroom and kitchen with two other girls across the street. and you have vi each night.

you need nothing else. "yeah, i'm good. and i don't do that anymore, anyway." you tell her.

"alright." vi pulls her clothes back on, and you're just a little sad to see her body covered away again. you did love getting your eyefuls of those slight curves and sleek muscles, and the tatts. "why'd you stop, though? working, i mean."

you think of how you used to feel, seeing clients and letting them fawn over you for the night. handing you a wad of cash and walking out at the end of it. back then, it was what you needed— but the moment you didn't need it anymore, you’d signed out.

you'd only agreed to hook up with vi because it seemed harmless enough. made your nights a little less lonelier, gave you some company. you hadn’t expected money or to catch feelings.

the answer to her question rises up your throat, but you find it a bit ironic — and you know vi is a good person. if she finds out that you're yearning for more than what's between you two at the moment, she may just see herself out of your life, so as to not hurt you. and you didn't want that. you wanted vi, even if it was only like this.

the real answer to her question rests at the base of your throat like an ache, throbbing a little along with the parts of your body vi had gripped a little too harshly. i didn't like to feel used.

but you shrug your shoulders and say, "well, i just didn't need it anymore."

vi doesn't answer, only turns to leave. "will you come tomorrow?" you ask, trying not to sound like you want her to come.

"probably." vi answers, out of the door already. "stay safe, princess." then she's gone, and you're alone again.

the dreary darkness of your room surrounds you once more, and you feel hot and sticky. ignoring the discomfort, you slump into your bed again, realizing how painfully little you know about vi. yes, she's jinx's older sister. yes, she's nothing like her. yes, she's beautiful — handsome; ghost-pale, dark red roots showing through the dyed black hair, sad eyes lit up with need.

you loved those nights when she would let you reciprocate and make her feel good. when she would ask for a drink or two. when she would ask to stay the night, and you'd let her sleep on your chest. she wrapped her arms around your body then, holding you both like she's protecting you and like she wants you to keep her safe. and you'd hold her, stroke her hair, and stay awake praying the morning comes late.

and then there are nights like tonight — where she's quieter and more distant. where she leaves too soon. like she's holding herself back. it infuriates you, almost. you want to ask her what she wants. you want to tell her what you want.

shifting your stare from the ceiling to your door that hangs ajar, you let out a heavy sigh. next time, maybe you'll ask her. maybe you'll tell her. maybe. if the surge of body-and-mind desperation to make the moment last long enough doesn't overthrow everything else, you will. but you know it'll be easier said than done.

vi melts you like shaved ice in the sun. she softens you, turns you sweet. you feel alive with those dead eyes, calloused hands and busted lips on you. being wanted by her gives you a sense of meaning. and you'll do anything if it means holding her a little longer. 

if that meant this, simply getting to be her good girl for a night and nothing more — then so be it.

a/n: part two, anyone? lmk if you want it, might turn this into a series :P💓

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

➸ masterlist

“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

➸ masterlist

[gremlingottoosilly]

Maybe König with a fatigue ridden reader? She’s always a little dizzy, never able to rid herself of that exhausting spell.

Konig and his perfect, sleepy wife. of course, his dreams of having a proper housewife in his house are shattered - with countless times when you would almost fall asleep while watching a stove or getting too exhausted to even move a vacuum, he knows he can't torture you with house work anymore. Not like it matters - he has money for housekeeping, some middle age woman ready to help with everything, so you could stay as his pretty songbird, useful only for love and to be adored. He took you to the hospital as well - not like it helped, with the doctor just declaring some bullshit about women being like that and refusing to elaborate further. They gave a generic answer - something that pregnancy will solve, that lack of pregnancy can solve, something that will clear up after the period or something that can be decided with getting on a different type of birth control and maybe just trying to push harder. Konig won't push his wife harder because the hospital visits are exhausting you, and he just wants for you to feel alright, to feel comfortable. Even if that means getting slightly frustrated during sex, since you can barely last longer than a few minutes without getting too tired to continue. Even just one quick orgasm is draining you, making you sleepy and dizzy and melt like a putty in his hands. He got used to seeing your non-verbal clues during sex, and to finish in your sleeping body, hugging you close and mostly just doing cockwarming while you rest. Maybe, if he is lucky, you could last a few minutes longer licking and sucking on the tip of his cock, before your jaw would get too strained and you would require for him to finish jerking off with his hands, making you lick his cum from his fingers like a good kitten. At first, he thought you were just pretending -after all, your first few weeks together were less than ideal, with you only stopping fighting him because it would make you too tired to proceed. You used to yell at him to stop being a fucking creep and let you go - and it would be only obvious that you would like as if even just kissing him would make you too exhausted to continue. He soon learned that you were just like this - always a bit too tired, always a bit too exhausted, always wanting to curl down and sleep. God, he fucking adores you - your droopy expression, your yawning, your desire to constantly lean on his shoulder like a cat whenever you deem yourself too tired to continue whatever you were doing. He likes to think of himself as the one who tamed you, but he knows there wasn't much of a fight - more like easing you up to him, making sure you love him properly.

[rafesdollette]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY- (2) BOY NEXT DOOR SERIES

summary — your first 'legendary' obx party with your new neighbor word count — 2.1k authors note — this is my first time writing smut so ntm thank yew. sorry for getting it out later than promised. I've been busy adulting (unfortunately) . and i stayed up til three am writing this so...you're welcome warnings & genre —not proofread. alcohol, !reader being drunk, slight praise kink (?), jealous rafe, fingering, oral (fem receiving) . fluff + smut pairing — NEIGHBOR!RAFE x LUX!BABYDOLL!READER

You weren't sure if legendary would be the correct word to describe your current surroundings. You were thinking more along the lines of uncomfortable. You'd stupidly agreed to this party, just to be standing on the wall with your second cup of an unknown liquid that truthfully, wasn't exactly pleasurable. Though, you were still drinking it for whatever reason. You were dizzy, suffering from a throbbing headache, and pissed off since Rafe decided not to hold up his promise to show up and keep you company.

It's almost been two hours since you've arrived, and still no sign of Rafe. He promised to meet you here whenever he got done doing whatever 'important task' he had to do, which was only supposed to take twenty minutes. At this point, you've texted him at least seventeen times, all for them to be left delivered. You weren't sure if he had forgotten about you, or if he just got caught up in whatever task he was dealing with. Either way, you were still annoyed, considering he damn near begged you to come here.

As you take another sip of the off-putting liquid in your cup, you hear someone's footsteps walking in your direction, as well as a pair of hands on your waist. Obviously you expect it to be Rafe finally deciding to show up, but you're met with otherwise. You turn around, looking up to see someone you recognize as Topper, due to meeting him earlier in the week. You can't say the interactions between the both of you have necessarily been unappealing, he just wasn't someone you'd be interested in spending your time with due to his whole persona. He was honestly the last person you wanted to see.

“Topper, hey.” You force a smile, shifting uncomfortably. From all of the interactions you've had with him, this is the most touchy he's gotten. Probably caused by the alcohol he's obviously been downing all night.

“Hello, pretty lady.” Topper drawls, clearly struggling to stand upright as his hands remained gripped on your waist.

You found yourself desperately but subtly trying to squirm away from his drunken advances. You couldn't deny that Topper had a certain air about him that was less than appealing, particularly considering the current situation in which he was clearly inebriated. Despite your discomfort, you forced a polite smile, willing yourself to remain calm. “Have you seen Rafe?” You ask, looking around the crowd of people “He said he'd meet me here but it's been...” Trailing off, you look down at your phone, seeing the current time “A little over two hours.”

Topper chuckled, the sound coming out as more of a slurred hiccup. “Rafe?” He slurred, his grip on you loosening. “Last time I saw him, he was yelling at Sarah for somethin'." He shrugged, swaying a bit in his stance. “But that was hours ago. He's probably balls deep in some chick right now, knowing him.”

“I doubt that's true,” you retorted. “He promised he'd be here.”

Topper chuckled again, his hand trailing along your hip. “You trust that man too much for someone who just met him what? A week ago?” He drawled. “You could always spend time with me though.”

Though you were slightly uncomfortable, frankly you had nothing better to do. Thus hanging out with Topper was really the only entertaining thing to do around here. So you spend the next hour and a half taking shots and dancing with Topper until you're almost too drunk to even stand.

You're not sure how, but you manage to get outside to the front lawn, drunkenly stumbling to lay on the grass, looking up at the sky for a moment before your eyes close.

You're unaware of how long you've been lying there or if you passed out or not, but you open your eyes to Rafe standing over you with an amused expression on his face. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Mmh, maybe” You respond as you try to stand up, but the intensity of your dizziness makes you fall back down, huffing as you try again. Rafe watches you try a second, third, fourth, and fifth time, all unsuccessful until he sighs, lifting you in a bridal carry across the lawn and back into the house.

“Wait, when did you get here?” You ask as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck to stay steady in his grip, not that you need to though, he has a pretty firm grip on you.

“Not long ago.” He answered, carrying you through the crowd of people. “You're a real handful when you're drunk.” he noted as he carried you inside, his hold steady and secure.

“I'm not drunk.” You insist, despite knowing you were lying. You were beyond drunk, which was clearly evident by how you were currently being carried around like a child.

Rafe snickered, amused by your insistent denial. “You can't even stand up straight” he pointed out. “And your eyes are glassy as hell, which only happens when you're shitfaced. So yes, you're very drunk.”

You open your mouth to argue further, but close it as you realize the pointlessness of arguing with Rafe. You knew he wasn't going to let the idea go until you admitted you were drunk.

Rafe carried you into the living room, gently placing you down on the couch. He sat down next to you, watching you with an amused smirk. “I'm guessing you had a good night?” He asked

You roll your eyes, moving your hair out of your face “Well it's not like you were here to know. I had to hangout with Topper instead.”

Rafe's amusement fades into an irritated frown. “Why would you hangout with Topper?” he asked, his tone a little bit sharper than it was originally.

You notice the irritation in his voice and frown as well.“Because you ditched me.” You replied, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You promised you'd come and meet me but no, I had to wait for almost three hours before you finally showed up.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't ditch you." He mumbled in frustration. "I got caught up dealing with some Sarah drama, and when I was finally done, I came to find you. And what do I find? You hanging all over Topper like some drunk fool.”

Your frown deepens at his words. “I was not all over him.” You stated in an attempt to defend yourself. “He was the one all over me. I didn't even want to hangout with him, but you weren't there, so I had no choice.”

Rafe's frown deepened, he wasn't sure why he was getting so upset over this, considering the fact that he just met you not long ago and nor were you together. “You didn't have to hangout with him.” He retorted. “You could've just, I don't know, maybe stayed here and waited for me. But no, you had to go and get drunk with him instead.”

You cross your arms, feeling more and more irritated by the minute. “Oh, so I was expected to just sit here and wait for you? How was I supposed to know when you were coming back? You could've been gone the whole night for all I knew.”

“And another thing.” You continue, still not letting the argument go. “Where were you even at? What was so important that you couldn't even take a second to text me and let me know you weren't coming?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I told you, I was dealing with some Sarah drama. She came to me and said one of the guys had been stealing stuff from her, and wanted me to confront him about it. I wasn't thinking about texting you, I was too focused on figuring things out with her.”

“So you ditched me?”

“No, I didn't ditch you.” Rafe insisted. “I got caught up and just forgot to text you. And it's not like I was gone the whole night. I came looking for you as soon as I was finished”

Rafe watches you for a moment then sighs. “Look, I'm sorry I forgot to text you. But I'm here now, aren't I?”

You can feel your irritation gradually fading, but you still have a slight pout on your face. "Yeah, yeah you're here " you mumbled with a sigh. “But I'm still pissed”

Rafe rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at your grumpy childish demeanor. “Oh come on, you can't stay mad at me forever” He says as she leans over, taking your heels off of your aching feet.

You huff, avoiding eye contact and crossing your arms. “Yes, I can. I'm very stubborn if you haven't noticed.”

“Well I guess I'll have to find a way for you to make you forgive me”

And that's how you find yourself with your hands on his arms as you sit perched onto his face with your thighs on either side of his head, looking down at him as his tongue flicks between your folds.

"I-I'm not sure if this is really the best..." You try to protest, but the words are lost in the waves of pleasure that wash over you with each flick of his tongue. Your legs trembling so badly now that you can barely hold yourself up, and if it wasn't for his strong grip on your hips, you know you would have collapsed onto him by now. His rough hands slide up your body, his fingers squeezing and massaging their way to your chest. He palms your tits through your shirt, flicking the sensitive nipples with his thumbs in a way that makes you whimper.

“mmmh you taste amazing, fuck.” he groans against your cunt as he circles your clit, sucking the sensitive bud, looking up at you as he does so. You don't even have to look back at him to know he's smirking against you, seeing the way your eyes are dazed and hearing the whimpers and moans he's pulling from you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly, the room seems way too hot, the air too thick. You lean back, resting your hands behind you, finding just enough leverage to lift your hips and grind on his mouth. He groans, his tongue swirling around your clit with more pressure.

His fingers trail down, trailing over your inner thighs, and before you can even process what he's doing, he shoves one inside your squelching pussy, curling it and hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing starts and your hole clenching around his finger “A-ah shiiit, Rafe”

“Mmmh, lookin s'pretty up there, angel” he mumbles against you, increasing the speed and pressure of his tongue as he buries another ring-clad finger into you, watching your eyes flutter and your mouth fall open, following with a string a whimpers and desperate cries.

You try and tell him that you can't take much more, your voice cracking and trailing off as he presses his fingers into that sweet spot inside you once more, making your eyes roll back. “R-Rafe...can't-”

“C'mon angel, I know you can. Gonna make you feel good- mmh...taste so sweet. Just let go for me.”

He flicks his tongue in a way that has you moaning his name so loud, you're almost sure the party downstairs can hear you clearly, the sounds so wanton and debauched. Though, you make no attempt to quiet down since you can't bring yourself to care.

He groans against you, his hot breath wavering, sending chills across your skin. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, grabbing it roughly, and grinding against him, feeling him moan against you more intensely now, as he speeds up the pace of his fingers.

“Oh god, I'm- I'm-” The sound you let out was almost pornographic as your throw your head back, whimpering his name as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, cumming onto his mouth and fingers.

“Mmmh, that's a good girl” Rafe groans against you, lapping you up before sliding his fingers out of you and licking those clean too. “Bet Topper couldn't get this pussy to cum like that, yeah?”

Your eyes flutter closed, whimpering as you let out a breathy “Mmhm” before you suddenly sit up, looking down at him. “Rafe...where did you leave my heels?” in which he simply shrugs and replies “Somewhere downstairs.”

You pout down at him “But those were miu miu”

“Mmh, i'll buy ya some more, sweet girl” He mutters as he places a wet kiss on your core.

© rafesdollette

tags: @ayy1234567 @supercutelovergirl

[sandwhitches]

Hello! For you summer writing event, may I request a cherry popsicle with sakusa, osamu and kuroo and falling asleep on their shoulder on a bus/train?

a/n: one of my favorite tropes hehehe. thanks for requesting and enjoy!!

genre: fluff

content: gn. reader, all of them are pining messes

wc: 676

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

Sakusa wonders how he’s managed to amass such a crush on you, impossible to ignore, it slowly eats away at his sanity with each time he sees your face but can’t kiss it. But this? This takes the cake. How long can a person go without needing to breathe? Kiyoomi asks himself that as he tenses under an unexpected weight on his shoulder, his lungs have suddenly forgotten what they were made for it seems. 

Cautiously, his eyes dart down to affirm what he already knows. Your face has never looked easier to kiss all over than it does now, peaceful with the slumber he’s been watching you trying to stave off since getting on the train.

Now you’ve done it, you’re killing him without even needing to be conscious to do so, nothing less of what he’d expect given how he’s been head over heels in silence for too long. 

Swallowing thickly, Kiyoomi makes an effort to lower his shoulders a bit, hoping you won’t wake with a sore neck. This can be okay, he thinks, he may very well die like this if he can’t figure out how to breathe, and maybe he won’t be so upset about whatever happens as long as you stay close to him like you are now. 

𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

“Isn’t yer stop comin’-” Osamu’s breath catches in his throat as he’s interrupted by the foreign feeling of your warm body pressed up against his. You can’t possibly be asleep, can you? He can practically hear his own heartbeat as his eyes are met with the most beautiful sight he’s sure he’ll ever get the privilege to see.

Your upcoming stop is now long lost on Osamu, who has since leaned his head gently atop yours, trying to time his breaths with the rise and fall of your own chest. If he could choose one moment to stay in forever, this might be the one, he thinks.

A nervous hand drapes over the one you’d planted on his knee in a half-asleep haze, roughened fingers brush over the soft back of your palm, and Osamu is asking himself what good deed he’s done in his life to deserve this. 

There's a taste of something new on his tongue, the sugary weight of words he wishes to shower you in: confessions, secrets, desires. It’s funny, and his opinion, a bit pathetic, that this is all it takes for him to start dreaming so ardently over the rest of your lives.

In that moment, Osamu feels as if the only reason he was put on this earth was for you to lean on like you are now, for him to do anything in his power to spark even the smallest of joys in your heart. 

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

It’s an absolute mystery to Kuroo how you can manage to doze off like this on such a crowded train. Squeezed into a tight corner at the end, he’s beginning to lose his mind over the fact that he can hear the airy breaths you let out so slowly.

While he’s still grappling with the fact that you’ve fallen asleep, he’s also trying to ignore that it feels like he’s going to pass out when your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

How can he be cool about this? Kuroo can just barely bolster the wave of nerves he gets when being with you as it is, but this is impossible for him. He cringes at the warmth that spreads across his cheeks, undeniably tinting the apples a blushy red, and he knows it’s obvious to just about anyone on the train who looks his way that he’s suffocating on the dizzying sensation of love. 

The worst part about this? It’s going to be impossible for him to keep his feelings stifled under the guise of camaraderie for any much longer. Now that he knows what it is like to have you so close to him, it’s clear that he wants that as much as he possibly can. Kuroo was doomed from the very start, wasn’t he?

[rhiannonsknife]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 1)

— summary: you’re still getting over your past situationship when you meet nat scatorccio.

— warnings: drinking/alcohol. implied period typical homophobia. based on this request.

the music pounds through the walls of the house, every beat rattling through your skull and adding to the dizziness you’re already feeling. you’re perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a half-empty red cup you’ve forgotten about. the drink has long since lost its taste, and the buzz you’d been riding earlier is wearing off in the worst possible way.

tears fall, slow and relentless, even as you try to force them back. it’s pathetic, you know it is as you look at the mascara smeared face that greets you in the reflection of the mirror ahead.

none of this was supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to end up here, locked in a bathroom at some stupid party, crying over someone who never cared enough to give you what you wanted. the same old story. you saw it coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. it doesn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

you run a shaky hand through your hair and wipe at your burning eyes, the red cup slipping slightly as you press it between your palms. it was supposed to be different this time, not feel like the same heartbreak you’ve lived through so many times before. she was different. or at least, you thought she was. that’s what you kept telling yourself while you fell for the girl who promised she was ready to be with you, who made all the right moves, said all the right things.

but when it came down to it, she couldn’t even look you in the eye as you tried to talk about it a couple of weeks ago. all she could do was calling things ‘complicated’ and saying that maybe she wasn’t ready for something real. no apology. no real excuse. and now here she is at the same party, dancing with some guy in a way she never would have with you, leaving you no choice but to watch from across the room.

the bathroom door creaks open suddenly, and you quickly wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself. the last thing you need is for somebody to walk in on one of the cheerleaders looking like this. but it’s too late.

“occupied,” you mumble.

“yeah, no shit,” a dry voice responds

you look up, surprised to see one of the yellowjackets standing against the doorframe. you know her, obviously, if only from a distance, from watching games from the sidelines after performing: natalie scatorccio. she’s the one with the shaggy, bleach blonde hair and that perpetually bored look in her eyes, the one who always wears vintage band tees and a leather jacket if she’s not in her soccer jersey number 7.

“sorry,” you mumble, trying to sound like you’re not completely falling apart. “i’ll leave,”

natalie doesn’t move. she crosses her arms and leans against the wall, her smirk softening. “relax,” she says. “not like i’m dying to hang out with the drunk assholes out there.”

you blink at her, caught off guard. “then why are you here?”

she shrugs, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. “needed a break. but you-“ her eyes flick to your tear-streaked cheeks. “-are you okay?”

“do i look okay?” you snap, voice wobbling.

natalie raises her hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. want to talk about it, or should i leave you to…whatever this is?”

you hesitate, staring down at your cup. she’s a stranger, but something about her feels steady, like she’s not here to judge or pry. before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

“i hooked up with someone. someone i really liked. and they…didn’t feel the same way,”

natalie hums, leaning back against the counter. “cheerleader, right?”

“uh, yeah. how’d you know?”

her grin is small, knowing. “lucky guess,” she gestures vaguely toward your perfect ponytail, the neatly pressed outfit you're wearing (or what's left of it after the night's events). "also, your whole squad has that...same vibe, you know?"

“a vibe?” you echo, frowning.

“you know.” she shrugs. “acting like you’ve got it all together, even when you’re crying in a bathroom…”

you bristle slightly. “well, clearly, i don’t,”

“clearly,” she says, with a smirk that’s just shy of teasing. then, more seriously: “so, what happened?”

you hesitate, then sigh. “i thought we had something. but they didn’t see it that way. basically said i was imagining things!”

natalie tilts her head. “cheerleader too?”

her tone is careful, and the question catches you off guard, though you don't bother denying it. with the amount of cheap liquor you've had, there’s no point in trying to lie. besides, she doesn't strike you as the type to judge, considering the fact that she was the one to bring it up.

“yeah,”

she lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “figures. you guys are always so tangled up together,”

you glance up at her, defensive. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just…” she shrugs. “predictable. all sunshine and pom-poms until someone gets stabbed in the back!”

“not all of us are like that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“oh, yeah?” she quirks an eyebrow. “then why are you in here crying?”

her bluntness stings, but it cuts through the fog in your head. at least she's not sugarcoating things just to make you feel better. you exhale sharply, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking again. “because i thought she actually cared. i thought…” you trail off, shaking your head.

natalie’s expression shifts slightly, something softer slipping through as she shoves her hands into her pockets. “people suck,” she says simply.

you laugh weakly, despite yourself. “yeah. they really do!”

the room falls into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. you feel lighter, somehow, like just talking to her has already taken some of the weight off your chest. for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe again.

natalie shifts, standing upright and jerking her chin toward the door. “c’mon. this party fucking sucks anyway. let’s get out of here!”

you hesitate, glancing toward the door. “what, you’re just gonna leave?”

she shrugs, her hands still tucked in her pockets. “what’s the point of staying? and let me guess: you’re not exactly dying to run into her again tonight either?”

your stomach twists at the thought, and you shake your head. “no. definitely not!”

“exactly,” natalie says, stepping away from the wall. “so let’s bail. the night’s already shitty, might as well make it less shitty!”

“you want me to come with you?”

she smirks faintly. “you want to stay here crying in the bathroom?”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “alright, fair point”

natalie gestures toward the door. “come on. i know a spot. it’s better than this place, anyway,”

‘better than this place’ isn’t exactly a high bar, but something about the way she says it makes you trust her. you nod, leaving your cup on the counter. “alright. lead the way!”

natalie doesn’t say anything else, just pushes open the bathroom door and leads you through the party. the noise and chaos feel even more overwhelming after the relative quiet, but she moves through it carelessly. you follow her out to the driveway, where her beat-up car sits under a flickering streetlight.

“get in” she says, jerking her head towards the passenger side.

you hesitate for a moment before climbing in. the interior is as unpolished as you’d expect, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. natalie slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and cranking the engine to life.

“where are we going?” you ask as she starts driving off.

“somewhere quiet,” she says simply, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

fifteen minutes later, you’re parked at a deserted overlook just outside town. only there, natalie cuts the ignition and leans back, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her jacket.

“want one?” she asks, holding it out to you.

you shake your head. “not my thing”

“suit yourself.” natalie lights one up, the orange glow illuminating her face in the otherwise dark space. for a while, neither of you says anything, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“so,” natalie starts, breaking the quiet. “you really liked this girl, huh?”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “yeah. i thought…i don’t know, i thought we had something!”

“maybe she’s just an idiot,” she offers, her voice dry though not unkind. “her loss, right?”

you glance at her, watching the way her face lights up from the faint glow of her cigarette. “what about you, natalie? ever had…dunno, someone break your heart?”

she winces playfully at the name. “natalie? god, no one calls me that. it’s just nat!”

“nat,” you repeat. “alright, nat, what about you then?

she exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed on the horizon through the window shield. “not really,” she says after a pause. “i’ve had my fair share of bullshit. people thinking they can get close, but only on their terms,”

“that sounds…” you trail off, searching for the right word.

“exhausting?” nat supplies, flicking ash out the window. “yeah, it is.”

familiar, is what you were going for, but you suppose ‘exhausting’ will do. you study her for a moment, the sharp angles of her face in the dimly lit space. “you’re not what i expected, you know?”

nat glances sideways at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, leaning back against the headrest. “i don’t know. i see you at school sometimes…and with the whole soccer thing, i guess i just figured you’d be different,”

“different how?” she presses, curiosity piqued.

“i don’t know,” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “the team’s such a big deal. everyone’s always talking about the yellowjackets since you guys won nationals,”

nat lets out a dry laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“trust me, we’re just a bunch of idiots kicking a ball around. nothing special”

“you’re good, though,” you counter. “regionals last year? that goal you scored? pretty badass!”

“you were there?”

“i’m a cheerleader, remember? i’m at all the games. you don’t really notice us, though, do you?”

“not my thing,” she says with a grimace. “but, uh, thanks. i guess,”

the conversation continues, ebbing and flowing with surprising ease. turns out that nat scatorccio is not at all how you had expected her to be.

eventually, as she runs out of cigarettes to smoke, the cold starts to seep in, and you shiver. nat notices, shrugging off her leather jacket and holding it out to you.

“here,” she says. “you’re gonna freeze to death!”

you blink at her, surprised. a part of you wants to argue, but the goosebumps on your arms speak volumes. “are you sure? won’t you be cold?”

“i’ll survive,” she says, rolling her eyes. “just take it!”

you do, slipping it on quickly. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and smells faintly of smoke. it’s warm, at least, and you murmur “thanks” as your finger clutch at the fabric.

“don’t mention it,” she replies, stubbing out her cigarette. “c’mon, let’s get you home before someone calls the cops on me for kidnapping a cheerleader”

you laugh, the tension easing from your chest as she starts the car and pulls back onto the road, letting you navigate the route to your house.

the drive is quieter this time, the party and all your earlier heartbreak feeling strangely far away. nat drums her fingers on the steering wheel in time with a song playing faintly on the radio.

when she stops in front of your house, you hesitate for a moment before opening the door. “thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice softer than you mean it to be.

she shrugs, her gaze flicking toward you. “don’t overthink it, alright? i just…didn’t want you crying in some gross bathroom all night,”

“well, i appreciate it. see you around?”

“maybe,” she says, a half-smile on her face as you climb out of the car and close the door behind you.

you stand on your front porch for a long moment, watching her tail lights disappear into the night. only then, when theres only the pitch black darkness of the street left ahead of you and nat’s car is long gone, you make your way inside.

it isn’t until you’re curled up in the comfort bed that you notice it: nat’s leather jacket is still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. you hadn’t even thought to take it off, too distracted by the events of the night. now, as you bury your face into the worn leather, you can’t help but smile as you inhale what is a mixture of the scent of her cologne and cigarettes.

the thought makes you grin despite yourself, and you let the warmth of the jacket lull you to sleep, unbothered by the fact that you’re still in a full face of makeup and the clothes you wore to the party.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about how to return it, though the idea of seeing her again doesn’t feel like a chore at all.

the gym is still buzzing with energy, the echoes of the rally lingering in the air. you're perched on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of your cheer skirt as the crowd begins to disperse.

the yellowjackets are clustered near the far corner, laughing and shoving at each other while coach martinez barks something about practice tomorrow that you can understand clearly even from a distance and amongst the giggles of the other cheerleaders.

your eyes, however, are locked on one player only.

she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly in place as she banters with lottie. she doesn't seem to notice you staring. if she does, she doesn't let on. her hair is messy, sweaty strands sticking to her neck, and there's a small smear of dirt on her cheek that she clearly doesn't care enough about to wipe away.

the ache in your chest is as confusing as it is frustrating. you're not supposed to feel this way about her, of all people. not after how your recent situationship ended. you'd made the stubborn promise to yourself hat you would not end up falling for another girl in the foreseeable future. and yet, here you are, watching nat scatorccio from afar.

"hey"

the voice beside you makes you jump, and you whip around to find her -the girl you'd been seeing, or whatever you'd been doing-hovering uncertainly at your side. only yesterday, the sight would've made your heart ache. now, it just annoys you that she's interrupted your people (nat) watching.

"uh, hi," you mumble, glancing back at nat almost instinctively. the girl notices, following your gaze. "since when do you care about soccer?"

"what? i don't, i wasn't-" you cut yourself off, realizing how pointless it is to lie. "i was just…..zoning out,"

"sure," she says, her tone clipped. she shifts awkwardly, crossing her arms. "look, about the other night-"

whatever she's saying is drowned out by your own thoughts: nat's laughing at something van said, her smile wide and unrestrained. it's different from the smirk she usually wears. it's softer, more real somehow, and your heart stumbles stupidly in your chest.

"are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asks sharply, pulling your attention back to your side of the gym.

you blink, caught off guard. "sorry, what?"

she rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated. "forget it. i just thought we should talk about...whatever this is. or was!"

you don't want to talk, especially not to her. she's made her stance clear. still, you offer: "yeah, no, you're right. we should. just... maybe later?"

she scoffs, throwing up her hands. "whatever. good talk!" you don't even have the energy to stop her as she stalks off, the sound of her sneakers echoing sharply in the nearly empty gym. your gaze drifts back to nat, then, and you catch her glancing your way. your breath catches, the conversation instantly forgotten, but she looks away before you can tell whether she actually noticed you, or if it was just wishful thinking.

even the school parking lot is alive with post-rally energy by the time you and the rest of the cheer squad has made it out of the locker rooms and you're no longer in the tight outfit.

the yellowjackets are lounging around their cars, hard to miss when they're still in their jerseys. you spot nat leaning against her car, a bright yellow number 7 on her chest and a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers. she's clearly disinterested in whatever story misty is animatedly telling beside her.

your heart thuds uncomfortably as you approach, clutching the leather jacket in your hands. the nerves aren't new, you've felt them every time you've seen her since that night, but this time, it's worse: she's with her teammates, and they're all staring at you the moment you come into view.

"hey," you call out, offering a small wave. "i, uh...i have something that's yours?"

nat's eyes narrow slightly before flicking to the jacket in your hands.

“oh my god, nat,” taissa teases, leaning casually against van's shoulder. "didn't know you were in the habit of lending your stuff to cheerleaders!"

she exhales a puff of smoke, side-eyeing tai. “shut up!”

you bite your lip, stepping closer. “here. thanks for letting me borrow it!” you hold out the jacket, trying to keep your voice steady with the whole team watching the exchange.

nat takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the silence hang for just a beat too long, before, finally, taking the jacket from your hands. “no problem,”

van raises an eyebrow, smirking the exact same way taissa is.

“well, this is new. didn't know you two were friends...?”

“we're not,” nat says quickly, her tone defensive. you glance at her, the sting of her words hitting sharper than you expect.

“but she's nice,” misty chimes in, clearly delighted by the interaction. “and really good at flips! i saw you at the rally. you did that back handspring thing-“

“misty, not now,” lottie interrupts, shaking her head.

“anyway,” you say, forcing a smile despite the awkward tension.

“thanks again, nat. and...see you around…?”

nat shrugs on the jacket. “thanks, i guess,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“uh, no,” you say, catching her off guard. “i'm thanking you. for, you know...saving my ass the other night...?”

nat quirks a brow at you, clearly unimpressed. “right. well, you already said that. so, we're good!” she shifts on her feet, clearly itching to leave. “see you around, cheerleader!”

and with that, she's gone, her boots scuffing against the asphalt as she falls into step with taissa and van.

turns out you do see nat around, more often than she seems to like.

the first time you spot her in the halls, it's almost comical how badly you fail at playing it cool. nat's leaning against a locker, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, chatting with somebody you don't recognize. you walk past and try to keep your head down, but you can't resist glancing over at the last second.

unfortunately, nat very much notices: she smirks, raising an eyebrow in what you can only assume is amusement at your awkwardness. “hey, cheerleader,” she calls, her voice echoing in the hall.

“uh, hi!” you manage, voice coming out brighter than intended. the person by her side snickers, but nat doesn't say anything else, and you slink away, your face burning.

the second time, you're determined to do better.

you catch her near the parking lot, hanging around with a group of guys you've never seen around before. she's got a bottle in a paper bag, her posture lazy and self-assured, and for a moment, you stop in your tracks, hesitant. but then you remember her kindness at the party, and you square your shoulders. the least you can do is thank her properly.

“hey, natalie,” you call as you approach, and she glances over, her expression one of confusion before recognition flashes over her features.

“it's nat,” she corrects automatically, taking a swig from the bottle.

“what do you want?”

you dig into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper, you'd prepared in class, holding it out to her. “here!”

she takes it, frowning. “what's this?”

“my number,” you say, surprising even yourself with how steady your voice is.

nat snorts. “yeah, no thanks. not really my thing.”

“no, not like that!” you insist quickly, though your face warms. “it's just...if you ever want to talk, or hang out, or whatever. i still owe you for that night, remember?”

her eyes narrow as she studies you, and for a moment, you're sure she's going to crumple the paper and toss it. but instead, she tucks it into her jacket pocket with a shrug. you consider it a small win when you leave her to it.

the third time you try your luck with nat, it's after school. nat's sitting on the steps outside, looking a little less put-together than usual: her hair's messier, her leather jacket slightly crinkled, and she's perched on the edge of a concrete step, surrounded by a few other yellowjackets.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering if you should just let it go for today. but then you remember the way she looked at you the first time you crossed paths after the party, how her gaze softened just a little and how willing to hold nat had been, and it pushes you forward.

you walk up to her, purposefully ignoring the eyes of the other yellowjackets, but determined to try anyway.

“hey,” you say, a little unsure.

nat looks up at you then, her eyes calculating as she takes in your approach. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, just watching you with a furrowed brow. you can feel the familiar rush of nerves, but you push through it anyway.

“do you have a minute?” you ask, trying to sound casual. her lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smirk, but she doesn't move. “no cheerleading practice today?”

you blink in surprise until you remember: she knows. of course she knows. everyone knows. it's hard to miss you bouncing around in that uniform, especially when you're standing next to your teammates, who always make a point of making everything so damn loud.

“no, not today,” you reply, glancing down at your shoes. “i...thought i'd take a break. come see what you're up to...?”

she doesn't immediately respond, but her eyes flick to the group of yellowjackets gathered around her, clearly sensing that they're all watching in anticipation. nat takes a long drag from her cigarette before replying in her usual dry tone. “why are you here, cheerleader? got another number for me to ignore?”

you almost laugh: the way she says it isn't cruel or mean, but teasing instead.

“no,” you say, shaking your head. “just wanted to check in. i haven't really heard from you since that night. thought i’d see if you were still alive!” nat doesn't seem fazed by the comment. she just exhales a puff of smoke before she replies: “i'm fine,”

you bite your lip but continue, “so you're not mad at me for, you know, giving you my number? for-“

“i'm not mad,” nat interjects. “just don't expect me to be...all friendly, alright?”

you feel a flash of disappointment, but try not to show it. instead, you nod, aiming for a smile but landing more on an awkward grimace. “fair enough. just thought i'd try, you know?”

for a moment, nat just looks at you, her expression unreadable. you're about to turn away, thinking you've pushed too much, when she suddenly speaks again. “you're persistent, i'll give you that,”

you turn back, blinking in surprise.

“maybe it's because i don't like giving up," you reply, your heart skipping a beat. "i really do owe you for what happened that night.”

she shrugs, the motion almost lazy. “you don't have to keep thanking me,”

“i know” you tell her. “but if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, i mean..i'll be around”

just when you think she's going to dismiss you again, she looks over at the group, making sure they're not listening, then back at you. “i'll think about it, cheerleader,” nat says, her voice softer than usual. “but if we do this, i get to decide where we go. deal?”

you blink, surprised by her answer, but you can't hide the grin that spreads across your face. that's not a no. it's far from it, actually.

“deal,” you agree, heart racing in your chest hopefully.

“good,” she says, her lips curling slightly as she pats her pocket, where she must still keep the note with your number on it. “i’ll let you know when. don't go getting your hopes up, though!”

and with that, she turns back to the group, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher, but you catch the smallest smile before she does.

you're not sure if you've just secured somewhat of a date with nat scatorccio or if you're just being hopeful. either way you’re not ready to back down yet.

you don't hear back from nat right away. truthfully, you're not sure you ever will. then, three days later, just when you've pretty much given up on it, the telephone rings.

“hello?” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you set your homework aside.

“hey, cheerleader”

your heart practically jumps at the sound of nat's voice, low and almost reluctant, as though she's already second-guessing this decision

“nat?” you ask, sitting up straighter.

“yeah,” she replies, and you can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “i said i'd think about it, didn't i?”

a stupidly wide smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.

“you did. so, what's the verdict?”

there's a pause on the other end, and then: “tomorrow night. meet me at the bowling alley on main street, eight o'clock?”

“bowling?” you repeat, surprised.

“yeah, you know? shoes that look like fucking clown rejects, greasy fries, cheap drinks?” she pauses, and her voice takes on a teasing edge. “figured it'd be fun to see you totally suck at something for once!”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. are you any good?”

nat immediately snorts, and the sound is so sudden and genuine that it makes your grin widen. “hell no. i fucking suck. but they've got an arcade, so if we both bomb at bowling, at least there's that!”

“an arcade?”

“what, you don't think i could beat your ass at pinball?”

“oh i think i could destroy you at pinball, actually!” you laugh into the speaker

“big talk, cheerleader,” nat says, her smirk audible. “guess we'll see, huh?”

“guess we will,” you reply, still smiling.

there's a moment of silence before she speaks again, her tone quieter now. “see you tomorrow, then. don't flake!”

“i won't," you promise. “you better not either!”

nat scoffs lightly. “yeah, yeah. see you at eight!”

before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving you with the telephone pressed to your ear, smiling like an idiot.

— a/n: happy new year everyone!! here’s the first part of my little nat series (masterlist) <3

[theprettyarachnid]

JJK characters and their reaction to a sensitive, innocent and easily flustered s/o🌹

a/n: yes <3 also i was on a roll with this one and i’m proud of myself

also sorry for the depression fest lately, my bad yall

warnings: the more you scroll the more nsfw it gets

characters: itadori, megumi, inumaki, yuuta, gojo, suguru, nanami, sukuna (some characters aged up)

itadori

🕷️ he thinks it’s really cute how flustered you get over the simplest of things

🕷️ he’ll hold your hand and he catches a glimpse of the tips of your ears turning a little red

🕷️ yuji once made a dirty joke while hanging out with you, megumi, and nobara and while the other two were rolling their eyes or saying their piece about the joke, he noticed you having this confused look on your face

🕷️ almost like you were a stranger within an inside joke

🕷️ he took note of it and will occasionally say things that are dirty when it’s just the two of you only to watch it fly over your head

🕷️ yuji doesn’t really lose his temper but you did something reckless on a mission once and he got really upset

🕷️ he couldn’t stop himself from yelling at you out of concern and fear but when you started crying he stopped

🕷️ he immediately gave you hug while you kept apologizing only to hear him shush you

🕷️ he was upset with himself for the rest of the day and a little more

🕷️ he cuddled with you for hours even when you told him you had something to do

🕷️ “just a few more minutes, you’re warm and i don’t want you to go”

megumi

🕷️ you can say whatever you want, i think megumi gets a little flustered at times as well

🕷️ in the beginning of the relationship, nobara and yuji would be snickering in the background as megumi tried to make a move

🕷️ your sensitivity can sometimes be a problem because megumi is naturally stand-offish and can sometimes come off as kind of mean

🕷️ especially because we know he can be kind of bad at comforting people but he’s gotten better at it because of you

🕷️ he likes to tuck your hair behind your ear because he likes seeing your lips thin out while you shyly look down

🕷️ not huge displays of affection in public but even when you two are alone and you kiss both of you end up having coloured cheeks when you pull away

inumaki

🕷️ if he’s feeling like it, he makes you flustered on purpose just for your reaction

🕷️ as well as he’s not one to be ashamed of showing his affection so throughout the day he holds your hand, kisses your cheek, twirls your hair when he’s bored

🕷️ but he finds it funny when he shows big displays of affection watching you try to run off before everyone starts staring but he catches your hand so you can’t leave

🕷️ “tuna!”

🕷️ when you two are alone he’s noticed that you’ve become a little less embarrassed when it’s just the two of you

🕷️ movie night with the gang

🕷️ everyone has turns picking out the movie so panda or gojo (on the rare occasion he joins) might put on a scary movie

🕷️ you’ll cover your eyes at certain parts of the movie but be peaking out a little because you’re too interested

🕷️ he pulls the cringey yawn over the shoulder thing even though he doesn’t have to and he knows it’s cringe

yuuta

🕷️ also finds it cute but goes easy on you even though he could do a lot worse

🕷️ occasionally pokes fun at you but gives you a quick kiss so you know he’s joking and you don’t have to get upset about it

🕷️ sometimes he can’t help himself and puts his hand a little lower than usual or will gently squeeze your waist

🕷️ can be overprotective during missions

🕷️ when he leaves for missions, he gives you multiple pairs of sweatshirts, t-shirts, etc for you to wear and even when people ask “is that yuuta’s” and you get embarrassed you still keep it on

🕷️ yuuta can’t help himself when he gets back, as soon as he sees you he picks you up bridal style and spins you around while kissing you

🕷️ by the time you’ve stopped spinning, you’re out of breath, dizzy, and grinning like an idiot

gojo

🕷️ RELENTLESS

🕷️ consider getting a restraining order

🕷️ like sometimes it can be cute like he’ll call you beautiful but other times he gives you a quick smack on the ass or squeezes your boobs when no one’s around

🕷️ you yell at him at times especially if it was in public and really embarrassing with red cheeks

🕷️ and as a sensitive person myself, probably a little tears in the eyes

🕷️ he feels really bad when you yell at him and hugs you for however long he feels necessary

🕷️ for some reason he really likes seeing you in his shades and randomly will put them on you

🕷️ it doesn’t really make you flustered, you actually find it kind of funny at times

🕷️ even when his eyes are covered, you can feel him staring at you and when his eyes are uncovered it’s in adoration

🕷️ gojo just thinks you’re so pretty and he can’t keep his eyes off you

🕷️ he finds it funny how suggestive jokes go right over your head so he’s more direct when it comes to you

🕷️ he whispers something in your ear occasionally and bites the tip of your ear watching your eyes widen and your face getting red

🕷️ he wiggles his eyebrows whenever he says some promiscuous which makes you make your mouth agape as you just turn your head away

suguru

🕷️ finds it amusing

🕷️ isn’t as relentless but occasionally will intentionally do something here and there

🕷️ when he’s talking to one of his disciples and you’re with him, he slyly moves his hand down to your ass gently squeezing it

🕷️ the disciple usually looks confused when they notice you hide your face while staring at the floor

🕷️ likes to sneak up on you and will give you a kiss behind your ear and feel the blood rush up your neck and onto your face

🕷️ gently cups your cheek and compliments you a little too loudly so people will hear

🕷️ he likes how innocent you are because the less you know the more he can expose you to

🕷️ is really gentle with you so you don’t get upset

🕷️ death penalty to anyone who makes you upset, the more upset you are the more miserable the death is

🕷️ he doesn’t let you know though, the last thing he wants is to see who he really is when it comes to others

nanami

🕷️ noticed it the first time he leaned over you to see what you were doing

🕷️ it was only out of curiosity of what you were doing but he thought it was cute seeing how flustered he made you

🕷️ notices how you keep stealing glances at him when he loosens his tie which shows a bit of his collarbone

🕷️ “you know, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me dear.”

🕷️ even with his statement though, you still would

🕷️ occasionally asks you to loosen his tie for him and watches as you look at the floor quietly giving an “okay” before walking over

🕷️ he takes this opportunity to wrap his arms around you and give you a kiss to the forehead

🕷️ he gives you a small smile when you look up before gently kissing you again on the lips enjoying how your hands tremble a little as you still loosen his tie

🕷️ if he raises his voice out of frustration and sees you curl into yourself while looking at the floor, he makes sure to take a breath and apologize

🕷️ it’s a very rare occurrence but it still happens

🕷️ likes when you sit on his lap while he works because he likes how close you are to him and how you stammer a little bit whenever he talks to you

sukuna

🕷️ oh god

🕷️ not to be cringe but you’re literally in the lions den

🕷️ sometimes literally if you’re in his domain

🕷️ sukuna always makes a point for you to look him in the eyes whenever he talks to you, no matter what he’s saying

🕷️ if you look away from embarrassment, he grabs your chin to make you look at him and sometimes even makes you repeat how he wants you to look at him when he’s talking to you

🕷️ “what did i say about keeping eye contact? say it so i know you understand.”

🕷️ occasionally gives you a break if he’s feeling nice but will still do things to get a reaction

🕷️ you sit on his lap on his throne, one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other on your thigh

🕷️ a little too high up your thigh most of the time

🕷️ lifts your chin up before he kisses you

🕷️ he doesn’t care if one of his servants comes to him about something and he’s doing whatever to you just to hear you stumble with your words while nervously playing with your hands

🕷️ loves fucking you especially in his true form because he has more arms, two of them holding each of your wrists while another one is slung over his shoulder and being extended just a little too far

🕷️ to make it even worse he makes you beg most of the time and watches your tears run down your face

🕷️ isn’t exactly the nicest person, i mean he’s the king of curses, so he says a lot of insensitive things

🕷️ he rolls his eyes and tells you to stop crying which usually only makes it worse so eventually he gives some weird half-assed kind of an apology so you’ll stop crying

🕷️ he doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but pulls you closer so your head is against his chest while he plays with your hair and that’s usually the closest you get to an apology

[fvck0leya]

(TW ⭐️ving and 4n4)

(if triggered do NOT read, block don’t report, if sensitive to these topics then please scroll past.)

tips for ⭐️ving that i personally use-

- drink 0 c4l caffeinated drinks, it’ll help with appetite and make you dizzy and nauseous, making you not want to eat.

-eat sugar free gum when you are abt to go to lunch/dinner, it’ll make you less hungry and the sweet taste will trick you into not wanting really anything else.

-when you want to eat, journal and repeat all the reasons you want to get smaller that you can think of.

- do NOT look at food recipes or mukbangs on tiktok/instagram, it’ll make you think abt food and then you’ll start craving it.

- don’t weigh yourself constantly, only have a few times every month that you do it, because you’ll be more determined to be as light as possible when that time comes, leaving you more consistent, and you’ll be less likely to be seeing a gain.

- this doesn’t always work but as a last resort i like to make myself nauseous or gag when possible, it’ll completely distract me from wanting food, and it’ll make you forget about it.

-nausea masks hunger, so try to make yourself as grossed out as possible with everything abt food, and you’ll start to associate food with nausea, making your body avoid food.

-if you do end up eating, punish yourself, do whatever works for you. your brain will start to associate food with pain and punishment, which will slowly train you to avoid the food.

-set reminders on your phone for restricting that day (only if your parents/people in general don’t look at your phone.)

-reward yourself with things when you lose w€ight! (NOT FOOD) things like cute stationery, trinkets, makeup, jewelry, new clothes, whatever you want.

Hope this helps! (and remember, this is not me telling you to do this, i do encourage recovery but this is just for people who want tips. and remember that only do this if you want to.)

[d4yl1ghts]

forever

derek shepherd x mistress, pregnant, fem!reader

summary: you’re an intern at seattle grace hospital and a married man gets you pregnant but you love him

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion, infidelity

-

You sighed to yourself as you placed your bag into your locker. Recently you had felt a bit off but you quickly dismissed it. “Hey.”, Cristina said as she noticed you unpacking. “Hi.”, you replied tiredly. “How are you? Because you look crap.”, she stated. “Wow, that makes me feel great, doesn’t it?”, you replied with a hint of annoyance in your tone. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”, she questioned dramatically. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”, you mumbled as you walked off once you had changed into your scrubs. Cristina huffed to herself.

Once you had completed your rounds, you headed towards the gallery to watch Derek perform open brain surgery on a patient. Your and Derek’s relationship was slightly complicated, you’d both sleep together often and clearly had feelings for each other but neither of you made a move. Almost like you had jinxed it, Derek looked up and you swore you saw his eyes light up when he realised you were there. You smiled to yourself slightly.

“What’s up, Y/N?”, George asked from beside you. “Nothing much, you?”, you reciprocated. “Nothing, but a little someone told me that you have a secret lover.”, he responded. “And who exactly did you hear this from?”

“Alex, he was saying that he saw you and McDreamy having a moment on the stairs, he’s been telling all the other interns.”, he said nonchalantly. “Crap.”, you stated, slapping yourself. “So?”, George pried. “So what?”

“Is it true? Is McDreamy your secret lover?”, he continued. “I don’t know!”, you replied, you could never lie very well. “What do you mean? I’m gonna take that as a yes!”, he said to himself as he ran off, probably to tell the others. “Whatever.”, you muttered frustratedly. You hadn’t even realised it but the surgery had finished a while ago and Derek was now sat next to you: “Hey.”, he smiled with his charming smile. “Hi.”, you responded. “Long day?”

“Yep.”, you stated whilst yawning. “But I have to be on-call tonight.”

“I’ll stay with you, if you’d like.”, he offered. “Really?”, you asked happily. “Yeah, of course.”, he chuckled slightly. You moved to stand up but felt a bit dizzy. “You okay?”, he questioned with concern laced in his voice. He had his hand clasped around your arm, holding you up. You felt nauseous and you saw a bin by the door and ran over to it before throwing up. In less than a second, Derek was by your side and holding your hair back. “Ugh.”, you sighed as you leaned your head against the wall.

Whilst Derek was looking for some medicine to help you feel less nauseous you looked for Meredith as you knew she was also on-call tonight. You figured that there was a chance of you being pregnant and Meredith could keep a secret so you were trying to find her. “Meredith!”, you whispered with urgency. “Hmm? Oh, what’s wrong Y/N?”, she asked, rather joyfully (well for Meredith).

“Have you heard the news about me and… McDreamy?”

“Duh, who hasn’t?”, she replied. “Well, um, I think I might be pregnant.”, you sighed as you felt tears build up in your eyes. The realisation had only just set in, this could change your whole life. “Could you sneak me a pregnancy test and wait for me to take it? I can’t do it on my own.”, you added as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Sorry.”, you mumbled as you wiped it away. “It’s fine, come here.”, she hugged you as you let out a few more sniffles before she went to get you a pregnancy test.

Soon she had returned with three different tests just to be sure. You took them all and had set a timer to wait for the results. You paced around the bathroom with tears cascading down your face. Abruptly the timer went off. You took a deep breath in and looked at the results. Positive. Shit, you thought. You didn’t even know whether you would carry the baby, you would have to consider an abortion, never mind raise a child. You walked out to meet Meredith. She looked at your quivering lip and red eyes and knew the answer. “How am I going to tell him?”, you asked her as you silently broke down. “Just tell him now, he’s here, isn’t he? I’m sure he’ll be happy.”, she responded with reassurance in her voice. “Okay, thank you.”, you waddled off to the on-call room where Derek was probably wondering where you were.

“There you are.”, he said cheerfully. “What took you so long?”

His back was facing you. He turned around and noticed your bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”, he cautiously asked. “I’m pregnant.”, you couldn’t keep it in. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. “I have a wife.”, he suddenly stated. Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. “What?!”, you screamed. “Are you joking? That’s not a funny joke, Derek.”, you said viciously. “I’m not joking, I left her in New York because she was cheating on me. I have filed for a divorce but she hasn’t yet.”, he replied honestly.

“Derek, why wouldn’t you tell me this?”, you answered as you cried. “I’m carrying the child of a married man.”

“I won’t be married for long, I’ll even call her and tell her to file for a divorce, I’ll tell her that I love you and you’re pregnant.”, he added, rustling his hands through his gorgeous hair. He said he loved you… this was the first time he has said it. “You love me?”, you asked. You completely forgot about the previous conversation. “Yes, of course I love you.”, he stated confidently. “I love you.”, you sighed as you felt him attach his lips to your neck. “We can work it out, baby. I know we will as long as we’re together, we’ll work it out. I’ll always be here. Forever.”, he said and then he reattached his lips to your body. “Forever.”, you repeated his words.

[revelboo]

Your writing is phenomenal! The way you portray each character and expand on their personalities within the Transformers universe has me hooked from the first word. I am so glad you made a blog and thank you so much for sharing your works with us!!! I’m ashamed to admit how often I come back to check and see if anything new has been posted; and I just found your blog maybe two days ago. Thank you again for writing for us all!!!!!!

Thank you for reading my silliness!

Last Night Pt 5

Bumblebee x Reader

• Little steps forward, day by day. Figuring out that questions about your day are safe. About you, less so. Wanting to ask about everything, but trying so hard to not remind you that you’re here against your will, because it upsets you. And that upsets him. But you don’t flinch away if he brushes a servo against your shoulder or lightly touches the back of your hand to get your attention anymore. Little steps. “There are other humans here, right?” You ask him and he hesitates in scrolling through topographical maps. It’s not exactly a secret, though, so he nods. “Are we allowed to see each other?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you hesitantly walk closer across the top of his desk and lay your little hands on his arm. Willingly reaching out to him for the first time as you look up at him with wide eyes. “Please?”

• Hands resting on his arm, it’s a surprise how warm he is under your palms. And he’s just staring at your hands on him, lips parted like you’ve shocked him. “I can ask,” he finally says, optics shifting to your face. Because even talking to strangers would be better than sitting here alone when he’s doing whatever secret alien things he does during the day. He’d volunteered that he was a scout, so you assume he explores. Maybe makes maps? You honestly have no idea. “Do you know what this is?” He asks and you lean against his arm to see the data pad screen.

• Freezing as you almost drape yourself across his arm, he’s afraid to move in case you realize what you’re doing and stop. It’s the most contact you’ve allowed so far and he can feel you breathing against him, the beat of your heart and your warmth. “Is that the old mine?” You ask, leveraging yourself even further on him to reach for the screen. Mimicking the gesture he uses to enlarge the image and he’s surprised you’ve been paying that much attention to him while he works. “It is. There was some sort of disaster years ago. I think they tapped into natural gas or something and blew themselves up.” Your little head turns to look up at him questioning, before you inhale, face reddening and slide off of him as if you’d just noticed what you were doing. How you were sprawled on him.

• “Energon,” he mutters as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, face hot because you were draped across his arm, butt in the air to reach the data pad screen. It’s not like he cares or is the least bit interested, but still. “We’ve been picking up traces, but haven’t been able to pin it down. But raw energon is highly reactive,” he pushes up from his desk, smacking the data pad against his palm as he paces. Energon is that glowing goop he drinks, but why would it be on Earth? You’ve never even heard of it before him. There’s no time to try to scurry away as he turns and picks you up in his hand and lifts you, doing a nauseating little twirl and laughing like an excited kid. Dizzy, you fall on your butt when he sets you back on your feet, but he’s already headed for the door, calling out over his shoulder that’ll he be back as you try to figure out what that was and why his excitement spreads warm through you, a smile pulling at your lips.

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[imrllytootiredforthis]

you know how cats like when you scratch above their tailbone

that but with lee know, like

if your fucking him from behind, just scratch and stroke over his tailbone, its enough to get him coming untouched

and the way he mewls like a kitten...

kitty~

lee know x reader

warnings: dom reader, sub lee know, reader fucking him though could be w a strap or a dick, cumming untouched, kitty lino, idk what else

a/n: help, help, help, anon you are 😵‍💫🙏, this is really short and kinda shit bc i haven't written in forever but found this in my inbox and couldn't resist

it happens when you're fucking into him, ass up and head buried into the pillows bc poor baby is too embarrassed to let you hear the downright slutty whines and pleads dripping from his lips one after another as you ram into prostate over and over.

any other day you'd tug him up by his hair, wrap your hand around his throat and pull his back flush to your chest. making his head spin by placing your lips beside his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe while you whispered such dizzying things to him.

but you're feeling nice today-or cruel.

with you, he finds that the two are often intertwined; one and the same really. able to bring him to the brink of insanity, leaving him drowning in the pool of your desire.

mercy is delivered in the form of sweet words and honeyed praises that seep into his skin, making him delirious like venom. and mercy is injected into him in the cruel way you thrust, pulling hoarse whines from him with every jolt of your hips: rough, demanding, animalistic, just the way he likes it.

"oh kitty~" you coo, and he mewls, proving the point you've made. "so pathetic." and you were right. you make him feel like he's melting, drooling into a puddle for you to mold and remake into whatever you pleased.

you sigh, "so messy," another truth, you were almost worried for your sheets with the amount of pre-cum he was leaking. "you gonna purr for me next? like a good kitty?"

he clenched around you, delightfully so.

he just looks so much like a cat right now.

the cat ears you had so lovingly placed in his hair, matching in colour so well they fit in seamlessly they might as well be real.

the way his hips sway, grinding back onto you to match your thrusts. you swear if he had a tail it would be flicking back and forth. wrapping around your thigh or ankle, trying to find some form of holding onto you- stay sane in the depths of this haze.

you were sure if he could purr, it would be loud enough for you to hear no matter how much he'd try to hide them. you could still hear his muffled mewls and cute hiccupy gasps even now.

just like a cat.

your pretty kitty, your lino.

and maybe...just maybe...

experimentally, cautiously (because much like a cat, you knew he didn't need to be provoked much to bite) you pressed your hand, lightly against his tailbone.

his reaction was immediate, and obvious, startlingly so.

his back arched. his thighs trembling, keening as he pressed back against you, grinding needily, like he couldn't get enough, like he could never get enough.

so you pressed slightly harder, rubbing small circles to the area, ripping high desperate mewls as he spasmed around you. unable to help his head snapping back, looking at you with wide, watery eyes as he came, dirtying the already ruined bedding with his spend.

you couldn't bring yourself to care at this point.

and he couldn't either.

you hummed, amused as you watch him slump onto the dirtied sheets, completely boneless. a quiet cry following when you slipped out of him.

"well that's something new~"

"-you...-you are never doing that again." he huffs, quietly, with little deliberation. with just enough force, in a way that you know he's going to be begging for it in less time than one may think with a stubborn, steadfast man such as your lino.

you only laughed and he shuddered at the sound.

"we'll see, kitty."

a/n: please, please give me a little slack if this is awful-the thoughts took over i wrote this in like half an hour in a moment of weaknessssss😫 i can't control them anymoreeeee

also ik i have a taglist i'll prolly get that out later today if i ever get it out at all😭

[jakesangel]

'studying' w jake -requested

tw// make out, suggestive, it's just kisses

jake is a sweethear. he is always willing to help others and never failed to make other's lives easier. and that only got intensified when you came around. you don't even need to voice your needs, jake would always be there for you. but once he is looking too munch at you, his pretty baby, his boyfriend duties will stop. so studying with jake always goes the same : he will help you w your homeworks then lose himself in you and finally he would try to steal your attention, and, obviously he always succeed, ending up to kiss you.

he was so happy when you texted him expressing your dismay towards ur physics studies, and he would come to your rescue, wanting to help you. and as he always wants to be with you and is always willing to be good for you, he would arrive, full of excitement, imaginary tail waving, hi baby, thank you for calling me, he would say giving you a quick peck before entering your apartment. he would sit next to youur stationary on your desk, waiting for you to sit.

as he started to help/teach you your studies, he was really focus on your understanding and your upcoming exams, but as times passed by, and seeing your pretty focused face, he couldn't help but be pulled by you. he couldn't care less about whatever you guys were doing, he just wanted his attention to be on you n yours on him. so he would give u a hard problem so that he can taste the waters, knowing if it possible to steal you from your studies and so he can stare at you. the sight of seeing you being so hardworking, understanding so fast n so well that you can do a whole new exercice, is so hot to him. your furrowed eyebrows and your pickered soft lips, would make him so dizzy. but the worst for him would be you playing around with your pen, putting it near your lips, a motion that display your focus. that single movement turn something in him and he wouldn't wait anymore time.

as you finished your exercise, you'd show the paper to him w happy words coming from your mouth. he wouldn't listen to you nor look away from your lips, them being hypnotizing to his weak mind. his body works in automatic, only needing you, taking the paper away from your hands. i'm so proud of you, baby he murmur sensually, i knew you could do it, my smart smart girl, he would add, then taking your now free hand forcefully leading you on his lap. you could try to protest, telling him he only came to help you study but he'd show you your well done exercice back, so for what reason would he let you off ? can i get a kiss from my smart pretty girl ?ᩚ just one and i'll let you finish, i promise, he'd say smile shamelessly lying, before leaning it with a slow kiss. he'd have his hands on your waist, keeping himself steady from. during your small makeout w him he would talk you thru it you're so hot when you focus do you know that, baby ? or my smart little princess. after showering you with kisses and hot words, he'd stop mid make out, successfully getting your attention. of course it hasn't enough for him but he wants you to want him, so he would give you another problem, not even caring about your current state, you still facing him. go ahead baby, you still have your exam soon, we can't have you taking too munch break umh ? he would tease you, putting s stray if your hair behind your ear. you obsviouky cant focus anymore, feeling his body underneath you n his hands still strocking you in allthe places he wants. he knows what he is doing and if he is rralky in a teasing mood he would kiss your neck. can't do the exercice baby ? is something bothering you ?, you we're doing so well earlier, what happened ? he would say w faux honnesty. he knows he wons you over your studies and will have you as he wishes.

if he isn't in the teasing mood and is just bored, he wouldn't let it pass too, finding that you've studied enough. baby could we cuddle ? he would bluntly ask not caring after ur successful attempt on doing his exercise. if you say no, n that you still need to study, tho you don't, he would just stare at you, giving you his puppy eyes paired w his adorable pout. that would only last minutes, his patience running low n his needs running high, before he'd ask you again please baby, you don't need to study anymore, his head hanging low on your shoulder, you're puppy is missing you words shining of neediness. if u can hankde his puppy eyes or his whines, he would level up, his face coming further into your neck, finally strating to take what he wants. please my love, i miss you, he murmurs, his hot breath hitting the crook if ur nap. he would also staring kissing you there, his hand softly stroking your arm reaching your hand. and finally, when he realizes you're not fighting against his temptation by letting him removing the pen in your hand, he would make you look at him, haven't i been good to you for you to just cuddle me ?

notes : hi anon i hope that you enjoyed it >< i feel like jake is makeout kinda guys, specailly when he thinks youre pretty i hope it wasn't too munch for u as ive never written them before,,, i made the second part in case it is for u <3 please lemme kno what you think in the inbox >___<

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeheeswifey @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 4

Moniker: Rudy Risk Level: Medium - Rudy is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely, but was only released to the general population 16 days ago. Brief: Deep-throat Safeword: Refer to first brief. We haven’t met, but Rudy is mine so I will be watching over to make sure he behaves - Ale

While Soap’s smaller, wet cock had threatened to drown you, Rudy’s cock was going to dry you out. He was leaking from the tip, but it was not the flood gushing into your mouth you had gotten from your mouth lapping between Soap’s legs.

You liked Rudy you found, he was genial, handsome and had set the room up with your comfort in mind for this. The pillow under your knees was soft and squidgey and you didn’t miss that being on your knees currently felt a lot more comfortable than being on your ass, but maybe Price had planned this for the day after Keegan. There were calming little puffs of scent coming from a diffuser. You had a variety of drink options set up on a little tray next to you. All in all it was a nice set up.

Even so, it had been jarring walking in and seeing him fully naked. He was beautiful to look at and you felt the tips of your ears searing with heat when you got caught staring at his cock. It was as pretty as the rest of him, hanging heavily past neat curls and slowly hardening as he appraised you. Within no time you got to your knees to taste him and tried to work up to the brief: deepthroat.

But my God you hadn’t thought it would be so difficult. His cock was heavy on your tongue and your jaw ached as you tried to take him inside your throat. Your mouth was overproducing saliva to try and lube the intrusion but it never seemed to be enough and while you felt like he was surely halfway down your oesophagus you had only managed to take maybe a third of his length in your mouth so far.

The smell and taste was musky, but you didn't hate it. Something about the decadent scent coming from his pubes had you dizzy from knowing he had prepared himself for you. Made you feel a little less crazy about how you agonized over your very thorough showers before attending your sessions. Was it oil? Had he massaged it in thinking of this girl he had never met getting on her knees for him?

Another bout of gagging forced him back out and you were so frustrated with yourself you could cry.

“You are doing very well” he said.

“I’m not!” you huffed, “stop babying me.”

Honestly if you thought about it long enough your attitude was probably influenced by your day with Keegan. He had brought out something in you that wanted to do well, wanted to please and got easily frustrated when you couldn’t. Maybe there was something from Soap too, the stubbornness that was born from knowing that your limits went far further than you had ever known. Both of them had pushed you while Rudy was achingly gentle.

“You are” he said sternly, one of his hands going to firmly hold your chin to keep your eyes on his. “I’m not going to rut your throat like an animal because you are impatient. You are going to learn to take it because I know you can. Take a drink, calm your frustration, and try again.”

His voice was so smooth and silky that it soothed your frustration instantly and you followed his instructions, taking a few gulps of water and resettling yourself. His cock had fully hardened during your attempts and you eyed it, wondering exactly how all of that was going to fit.

But you found you enjoyed sucking on him at least. The skin was velvety and hot in your mouth and you got a thrill when you tried something new and he jumped on your tongue in response. You were chasing the feeling, doing whatever you could do to make his cock throb and his tip leak.

“Ah! There is something wicked about you isn’t there?” he said through a moan when you tounged his slit after pulling back.

Given that you were the one on your knees you had never expected this to make you feel powerful, but he was so submissive. There was trust here, there had to be with such a sensitive organ in your hot mouth, right between your teeth. It was heady and you scraped an incisor along his skin on your next suck.

This time you got a little further, the pulse pulse pulse of his cock from that dangerous little scrape encouraging you.

“Swallow through it” he said breathlessly.

When your throat constricted to try eject him this time you fought against instinct and swallowed. Concentrating on that helped calm the spasms down and you stayed where you were, his cock half inside you and resting hot and heavy at the back of your mouth.

“Ah! That’s it. You feel incredible, now let me in. Just like that, slowly. You can take it, your lovely throat can take me.”

Fuck his sweet encouragement made your pussy spark with pleasure. He sounded so close to ruin and that was all down to you. He wasn’t using you to please himself, he was staying still and fully letting you be in control of the tension. It made it feel suddenly strange that you had ever thought yourself undesirable by any measure because here was this Mayan God of a man starting to lose his breath over you.

You gripped his thick, hairy thighs and pushed yourself to go further. You had to pull back every so often, take a drink and a breath and then start again. He was struggling if his moans were anything to go by. Rudy was not a quiet man for you and you loved it.

The feel of him hitting the back of your throat would have panicked you if not for the stream of babbled Spanish that came from him. You were passable with a few languages so you caught the jist. He was praying for mercy and praying for more and had you not been so enraptured by it all you'd perhaps have noticed how his eyes drifted to the camera as he prayed.

Fuck you got it now. You got how Farah could have spent so much time on your pleasure and none on hers. Call you fucking enlightened.

It hurt fighting your own throat muscles as they tried to gag around him and you kept swallowing back. He lost his own battle in the end, thrusting forward as he swore in every language he knew how to and shot his load straight down your throat.

You had never tasted cum like this before, Soap’s had been so different, but you couldn’t do anything but swallow down the saltiness. The combination of the thrust and the shock of the taste did make you gag and you pulled back on instinct, coughing up some cum and getting the last few ropes of it across your face.

There was a beat where you both looked at each other in shock, you with cum dripping down your cheek and him panting with some level of embarrassment from having blown his load without any warning to you.

And then you were both laughing and it was rather lovely a moment. You wondered what Rudy was like when he was detained since the brief had said he was recently, because you couldn’t fully imagine a version of him that wasn’t this man laughing with you as he apologised and rushed around to get your cleaned up with his softening dick flopping around since he hadn’t bothered to dress.

Maybe if you ever met this Ale, you’d ask him about it.

--

Rudy confessed his sins of the flesh with his God buried deep in his ass that evening. Alejandro could not wait to make a follower of you.

[avatar-anna]

It's Not a Competition (But It Is)

i just feel like this song is so reader coded in this series like she literally gets annoyed by how much she likes him and at first refuses to admit but of course she can't hide it forever...

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader Masterlist

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing. I'm not staring. Who's staring?"

You narrowed your eyes at Harry from across the couch. He was on one end, you on the other, as you studied for your respective midterms. You hadn't meant to stay after hooking up, but Harry offered his shower and an extra set of clothes and promised not to bother you if you wanted a quiet place to go over your notes, and despite the warning bells flaring in your head, you stayed.

As promised, there were no distractions. You were able to go over your psych notes in peace, the only sounds in Harry's apartment being the instrumental music he put on and the clicks of his keyboard as he worked on his laptop. It was comfortable, almost too comfortable, you thought. This wasn't the kind of relationship you anticipated when you and Harry hooked up for the first time. It was supposed to be strictly physical, transactional, a satisfaction of mutual needs.

But you felt it—Harry's stare as you reviewed key terms and quizzed yourself with your professor's review guide. There wasn't any heat behind the stare, it was more of a soft, warm glow. Affection. Harry stared at you with affection, and you weren't sure how to make the responding butterflies in your stomach stop fluttering so intensely.

"You're being a creep," you finally said, shifting in your spot on the couch as if you could physically shake off the weight of that stare.

Harry's brows raised above his blue light glasses, amused by your assessment. You'd never seen him wear them before, but they framed his stupidly beautiful face perfectly. You thought they softened his appearance, made him look less like the overconfident jock you knew too well.

"You really wanna know?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. "I don't think you wanna know."

"I asked, didn't I?"

Harry's grin widened before turning back to his laptop. "I just think you look pretty in my clothes. That's all."

His smirk was self-satisfied as if he knew what your reaction would be, which pissed you off even more. Before you knew it, you took a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"I look pretty in your clothes?"

"It's a compliment, princess," Harry said. "You would be the one to get pissy over something like that."

You sniffed. "Sorry I'm not at your feet like one of your adoring fans."

"Hey now, I never said I didn't like it. I like this thing we have going on. The banter. It keeps things interesting."

"Whatever."

"Would you rather I said you looked hot? Sexy?" Harry challenged, though his smirk told you he was playing around, laying a teasing trap to see if you'd take the bait. "Why can't I tell the girl I'm sleeping with she looks beautiful in my clothes? That's like every guy's wet dream."

You frowned and picked at your nails, trying to ignore the effect his words had on you. "You're sounding too romantic. Like you're my boyfriend or something."

Closing his laptop once more, Harry set it on the coffee table in front of him and turned toward you completely. He looked too soft, too cuddly, too kissable in his worn gray sweatshirt, his hair extra curly from the shower you shared together earlier. And when he shuffled across the couch toward you, the smell of his shampoo dizzied you, made it hard for you to focus on his words.

"You say that like it would be a bad thing," he said. His voice was light, but there was an undercurrent of weight to it. This was the conversation you and Harry avoided, danced around, hid from, at every turn. You could see it in his eyes sometimes that he wanted to have it, that he wanted more. But you...you just couldn't.

"We agreed—"

"Yeah, yeah. We agreed. Just sex," Harry grumbled as he pulled off his crew neck. "I can haul you over my knee and spank you all I want but I can't say you can't look cute in my clothes. Pathetic, Y/n, really."

You blushed, playfully swatting his hand away when he tried to push your—his—shirt up. "What are you doing? We already did that!"

"Well not-couples don't sit around studying together, so come on," Harry said, smiling as he play-fought you on the couch.

You giggled your way out of your clothes wrapping your arms and legs around him as he kissed along your jaw. "No, don't do that. This is strictly sex between us. Only girlfriends hold boyfriends like that."

"Don't make fun of me," you said, breathless from laughing.

"I'm not making fun, princess. Promise. We're just two people who love to fuck. And study together and train to—"

You cut Harry off with a kiss, fisting a hand in his hair tight enough to make him hum. The slide of his mouth against yours was familiar, practiced, as dizzying as the first time you kissed him. Since the very beginning, it had been easy with Harry. Too easy, too right. You thought it was just the tension between you and him finally snapping in half, that he'd finally pushed enough of your buttons and you just needed to get him out of your system. And then it happened again, and it felt just as good as the first time. Maybe even better. So it kept happening again. And again. Until you were staying over at his place and he had a drawer at yours and he laughed at your stupid jokes and you knew what he meant when he talked about hockey stats and his favorite place to eat off campus.

And now you were here.

You didn't know where "here" was, though. You knew where Harry thought it was, you knew what he wanted beneath all his teasing and joking. But you didn't know what you wanted. Or you did, and perhaps didn't know how to admit it.

"I should go," you whispered after, even though you knew you didn't have to. Harry's body was warm and sturdy beside yours, the hand drawing circles up and down your back and through your hair pleasant, calming. Your eyes were getting tired, blinking slower and slower as your head laid on his chest.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his chest expanding and falling as he sighed. "But I don't want you to."

You didn't either, though you didn't say it out loud. You just nestled deeper into Harry's chest and wrapped your arms around his waist.

And you stayed.

*.*

Harry woke to the sound of his phone buzzing noisily on by his bed. Too tired to make any sense of who was calling him at such a late hour or why, he didn't even bother sending it to voicemail, merely turning over in his bed and dozing back to sleep once the buzzing stopped.

And then it happened again.

That time, Harry did send the call to voicemail, believing it to be one of Harry's teammates trying to pull some kind of prank. By the third call, he was thoroughly annoyed.

"What?"

"Do you not like me anymore?"

Rubbing his eyes, Harry looked down at his phone, more specifically, the caller ID, for the first time. "Y/n? Is everything okay? Why are you calling so late?"

"It's Friday night why do you—hiccup!—why do you sound like you're asleep?"

"Because I was," Harry said, groaning before sitting up in his bed. Running a hand over his face, he asked, "Are you drunk?"

"No! Yes! Maybe a little tipsy. The nice bartender gave me a double shot for my drink," Y/n said, giggling to herself.

*.*

Harry woke up some more at her giggling, already reaching for the pair of jeans he'd ditched by his bed earlier. He'd gotten home after an away game earlier and didn't have it in him to go out, not to mention the pile of homework he left for the last minute. Y/n went out with her friends, insisting that she could go a Friday night without hooking up with him. Harry had laughed at the time, but selfishly wished she was with him now.

"How nice of him," Harry replied, trying not to let the idea of anyone flirting with Y/n bother him too much. "So, you're okay?"

"I—hiccup!—I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you're the one who called me out of the blue."

"Well, I," Y/n started, her voice drowned out by loud noise of whatever bar or party she was at. Then it all quieted as if she was suddenly alone. "I wasn't going to call you, but then I did."

Harry smirked. "Aw, did you miss me, princess?"

"No!" she snapped, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, but I just—I was ready to leave and no one else was and I know it was stupid of me because you're always tired after away games, but I thought—"

"I'm already on my way," Harry said, sliding off his bed as he picked up his jeans off the floor.

"Really? You don't have to. We're not—I mean you're not—"

"Send me your location, princess. I'll make sure you get home safe."

Y/n was quiet for a moment, presumably sending Harry her location while he shrugged into a t-shirt and grabbed his jacket. And an extra one for her, just in case.

"Maybe...Maybe I can stay at your place tonight?"

Harry's heart leaped in his chest, but he didn't let himself get his hopes up. Y/n was drunk, and he might've just wanted to hear the plea, the affection, in her voice. She didn't like him that way, or didn't want to admit that she did. He just needed to be patient.

"Course, princess," Harry finally said. "Sit tight, okay? I'll be there soon."

Skating always brought you clarity. Going through a familiar routine and landing tricks was what made sense. Moving through the music, letting the music move through you, helped you relax.

But today was different. Today you skated around the rink in circles, no choreography or music flowing through you. You skated in a daze, hoping you could leave your thoughts behind you with another lap, but they were as quick as you were as you glided across the ice.

"Y/n?"

Your most persistent thought of all.

You skated one last loop before coming to a stop at the rinks entrance. Harry stood on the other side, backpack on his shoulders and baseball cap covering most of his curls. It was a vision you were more than familiar with, you even knew the slightly concerned furrow of his brow.

"Everything okay? You weren't at the library."

"I—I just needed to skate," was all you managed to say, your breaths still coming out unevenly.

"Oh. Can I join you?" he asked, already shrugging out of his backpack.

"Just like that?" you asked him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

"Just like that."

Leaning across the barricade Harry kissed your forehead. There was a small smile on his face as he pulled away and gingerly pushed that same strand of hair away.

Because that was a thing you and Harry did now. You'd finally admitted to yourself what Harry had known all along, so now he was your boyfriend. It had taken a moment to wrap your head around it, though your dynamic with Harry didn't change all that much. Not at first, anyway. Until your first date at a bowling alley, then the second at a sushi place in town, then you began opening up about your home life, your family, sharing things with him that you never had before. Now you got extremely jealous when girls came up to him and tried to flirt, and Harry, who wasn't afraid to admit he'd always been jealous when he saw you flirt with other guys, wasn't afraid to scare those same guys off.

You and Harry were finally dating, and it was...good. more than good. It was—

"It was the date, wasn't it? Was it too much?" he asked later as skated beside you, having finally gotten his skates from his locker. Harry's skates were clunkier than yours, meant for speed and agility so he could race down pucks and out skate his opponents, while yours is slim and geared toward performing tricks. You watched them as they glided across the ice as you figured out what to say.

The date Harry referred to wasn't meant to be anything special, not any more special than the others were. But then Harry did what Harry did best and went above and beyond.

He somehow scored tickets to the ballet and surprised you with them and a candlelit dinner before the performance. It was perfect, all of it incredibly perfect. Harry in his suit and tie, different than his game-day suit, you in the fanciest dress you owned—pale yellow and off-the-shoulder, the bodice shaped like a bow.

It was a night filled with hand holding and kisses to your bare shoulder as you observed the performance. The seats Harry got were far from the stage, but you didn't care. You were enthralled by the dancers and the night your boyfriend planned for you, and Harry was just enthralled by you. You felt his stare all night, the same one he'd had since the first time you met, only now you knew what it meant.

Then at the end of the night, he walked you to your door, kissed you, and let you go inside. When you asked why he wasn't following, all he said was, "You have a competition tomorrow. I know you like to be alone so you can mentally prepare."

And that was that. He left, and you went inside and replayed the night in your head over and over and over again. You saw him the next morning at your competition, but you were too focused, all your feelings carefully compartmentalized so you could perform your absolute best. But the second you got off the ice, you thought of him, and only him, and all the ways he made you feel entirely too much and how you couldn't see yourself with anyone else.

It was too much, too many giant feelings to make sense of all at once. So you took some time to yourself the next couple days, and instead of meeting Harry at the library to study like you'd planned a week ago and headed for the skating rink instead.

"The date was perfect," you said now, your eyes trained on the ice beneath your skates. "It wasn't—It wasn't the date."

"So...you blew off studying with me because you...what? You just felt like it?" Harry asked, his voice carrying the slightest edge to it. Your boyfriend was incredibly patient despite your apparent aversion to dealing with your growing emotions. But he was still human, and honestly, you were a little annoyed with yourself too.

"No, I—"

"Then what's going on, Y/n? I know things haven't been easy, but if I'm coming on too strong and we need to slow down, then—"

"I don't want to slow down."

"Okay, then what—"

"I love you!" you said, coming to a stop in front of him. The words just tumbled out of your mouth, and now they wouldn't stop, like a dam had broken inside you. "I've come to the realization that I'm in love with you. A lot, and—and I'm overwhelmed by it and a little annoyed that you've managed to make me feel so much more than I ever planned to, so... that's why I didn't show up. I'm sorry, I just—I love you, I guess, and I didn't know how to tell you. But I also couldn't sit next to you and not say it either."

Harry said nothing for a couple seconds, looking down at his skates, then you, then back down again. Then he began to laugh.

You gaped at him. "Hey—You're laughing at me? I know it wasn't as romantic as you would've made it but, but I love you, you stupid fucking jerk!"

That only made him laugh more, which made you spin on your skates and glide away from him. He called after you, but you kept going, except he was a faster skater than you were and caught up to you before you wanted him to. Harry grabbed you by the waist and spun you around so faced him. He was smiling wide, his nose bright red from the chill of the rink.

"I'm laughing because you got to say it first," he said. "I'm laughing because I have been waiting for the right time to tell you, walking on eggshells for almost two years now, and you just—you beat me to it. That's all."

You blinked. Then laughed a little yourself. "So it was a competition? I won?"

"Yeah," Harry scoffed. "You won. Now stop stress skating and come with me to the library, you neurotic freak."

"Competitive ass."

"I love you," Harry said, using the smile he usually reserved for getting out of trouble or getting what he wanted. It was a smile you pretended you could resist, perhaps more for your sake than his, but now you didn't even try.

You rolled your eyes before kissing him, not confused or scared of the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as a result. " I love you too."

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.