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hyukaslvr · 1 day

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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 11.2

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.

“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”

Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.

his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?

Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.

one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.

when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.

you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.

it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,

forever

and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.

you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.

I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.

you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.

you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.

so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.

ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.

he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.

“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.

let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.

you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.

“your shoes too big for you, baby?”

you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.

the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.

another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.

“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.

“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.

“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”

“how, with what car-”

“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.

Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-

doink

something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.

you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.

“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.

you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.

“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.

“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.

“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.

“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.

“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”

“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”

you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”

“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”

“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”

“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?

when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?

you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.

“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.

it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.

“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.

“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.

Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.

you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.

“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”

oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?

a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy

if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!

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zzoupz · 5 months

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saw a take on twitter that's like "toxic yaoi means an imperfect relationship, not abuse" and I

#FAKE toxic ''likers'' when REAL fucked up enthusiast come at them #SERIOUSLY what is HAPPENING WHY ARE WE CHANGING MEANINGS OF WORDS NOW #like not to cite the dictionary but THE DICTIONARY???#i know this is silly to be angry abt but still. I have a personal reason I wont disclose for why I'm into fictional abusive relationships #and I was happy that people were starting to be accepting of it in a way? with the toxic yaoi/yuri memes #but then of COURSE people try to twist the meaning so they can use it with their raw unseasoned chicken of a ship again #whatever. yeah. it is silly.

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kittyprincessofcats · 3 months

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ICJ Ruling

Okay, let's get into this.

First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.

However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:

The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.

The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".

The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)

The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?

In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:

He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".

And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?

This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.

We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.

(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)

So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.

#ICJ #ICJ ruling #ICJ hearing #South Africa vs Israel #Free Palestine #Palestine #Palestinian genocide #Gaza #Germany #I get why Palestinians are disappointed and I don't want to devalue those feelings #(but maybe this can give you hope)#But thinking about this as a German this is huge #Most politicians and people here still deny (or at least strongly doubt) that there's a genocide happening #Calling it a genocide is seen as an 'extremist' position #And some of our politicians have been borderline gaslighting us and calling anyone who calls it genocide 'crazy'#So I'm just feeling immense vindication and a newfound fearlessness and motivation to be louder and more active than ever #and I hope others here feel the same #I hope the quiet masses stop being scared to say something now

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loonylupinblack3 · 9 days

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Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe.

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness.

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 1 year

Text

What if I...

—You make a tempting, unexpected offer; how are they going to react?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Fyodor, Sigma, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, mentions of giving blowjobs (whether it'll happen or not is up to you lol), unstablished relationship (you're just friends, but are you..?), rushed writing

Genre: Humor

Format: Drabble

Word Count: 1.6K

↳Osamu Dazai"

Listen y/n..." Dazai cooes at you. "I'm a little bit busy with... uh, work; so I don't think I'll be able to accompany you on this mission"

Shaking your head to the side with frustration, you bend a little on the desk, gazing into his Hazel eyes to show your desperation "Oh c'mon Dazai! You're not seriously gonna make me go to this tiresome mission by myself?! They're all politicians! It's gonna be boring as hell!"

The pile of paperwork on his desk are making you question your eyesight, but you know Dazai better than that. He probably saw it coming so he placed them there on purpose to prove his point.

...Not that it could exactly be called a "point".

"Listen..." Your voice is so low that only Dazai can hear it. "There must be some way for me to change your mind"

His expression doesn't change one bit, still looking through the documents for nothing, pretending to be occupied. "Sorry to burst your bubbles, but I really can't—"

"What if I suck your dick?"

Eyes shooting you a shocked gaze and hands staying still, it seems like he's completely lost interest in the paperwork. He's looking through your soul and the moment his lips start moving, you know you've won the battle.

"For... for real?" "Yes, for real"

The surprised face is all gone and instead, there's a totally new face now; a smug face of a man who's gonna team up with you for the mission and get a little prize in the end.

"So when do we leave?"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Listen Chuuya, with great looks comes great responsibility. There's a reason why you're this hot!"

The red-haired man looked away as an attempt to hide his flustered face, his voice still gravely. "Stop it y/n. I'm not gonna be your model for the photoshoot"

"Why not? You're the perfect choice!" "The answer's no! Get over it"

"Hmph! You're no fun" You crossed your arms and pouted as you leaned to the chair. You couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why was he so against being your model? You were just gonna take a few photos of him wearing casual clothes and maybe some light makeup. It was for your photography class and you were supposed to take a pic of somebody under the rays of sunset. With Chuuya's red hair and blue eyes, it would be a breath taking pic. He just looked so pretty under the sun.

As Chuuya took the bottle to sip from it, you found yourself desperate enough to give it one last shot.

"What if I suck your dick as a payment?"

And then the explosion happened. Chuuya's hand snapped, the bottle fell on the floor and drops of wine literally squirted out of his mouth. He was coughing so strongly that you rushed over and started hitting him in the back like he was some kind of ketchup bottle. His face was crimson red, but whether it was from choking or embarrassment, you couldn't really tell.

When he finally came down and caught his breath, he placed his hand on his chest and looked at you with eyes the same size as a baseball, meanwhile you looked at him miserably with the word "sorry" written all over your face.

"So... is that a yes?" "NO!"

Well, at least you nearly killed him.

↳Jouno Saigiku

"Ok I don't know why you're refusing. I'm just giving you the opportunity to make up for your mean attitude by doing something nice! You know, to go to heaven, like me and other nice people, Teccho for example"

Jouno was still expressionless. He merely sipped his cup of coffee and placed his hat on the table. "I appreciate the offer, but after a lifetime we definitely need a break from each other"

"Ugh you jerk! C'mon it's a piece of cake for you! You've arrested plenty of people before! You're smart, you're strong and I came to you for help which shows that I'm really desperate!"

Your relationship with Jouno was... questionable. He teased you, had a tendency to piss you off all the time, but somehow you were friends. The weirdest type of friendship that had ever existed, probably.

"I can see that. See I do wanna help you out, but I just love seeing the new you"

Shaking your head to the side, you leaned back to the couch. A hard case was given to you and you really didn't want to blow it up, but you needed help, and everyone else were busy. Except for your horrible friend here.

"Jouno, Jouno, Please..." You took his left, gloved hand. "I need you! I'll do anything in return! I'll team up with you and insult Teccho for a whole year! I'll write every one of your reports! I'll even suck your d—"

Jouno didn't hear your voice anymore. In fact, the only thing heard in the room was pure silence, and of course your heartbeat.

You were shocked.

He got his hand out of your grasp, placing it next to your head. His other hand found its way to your lips, softly caressing them. Meanwhile you didn't say a word, just stared at his handsome face and swallowed your saliva.

"Hypothetically, if I help you out, how far would you go to make it up to me?"

Forget about your friendship. You weren't that close anyway.

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"I'm going to go to my parents' with my boyfriend tonight"

"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend, dear" Fyodor tilted his head to the side to gaze at you.

"I don't! That's where you come in!"

Nikolai exchanged a look between your nervous expression and Fyodor's smile, and pouted. "Hey! Why didn't you ask me instead?"

"Yeah yeah, if I ever wanted to give them a heart attack you'd be the first person I'll go to" You sighed and looked back at Fyodor. "So? Would you please help me out?"

Fyodor was sitting next to you on a chair. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Ah... I'm not sure about that. Wouldn't it make our relationship awkward?"

"No! No not at all!" Your voice was rushed and shaky. "You see you're the perfect choice for this"

"Hmph!"

"Shut up Nikolai. I mean, you're tall, you know how to talk to people— in a satisfying way, ah, you know what I mean, you're handsome, you have very pretty hair, you have the most beautiful violet eyes I can stare at until forever..."

His brattish smirk made you shut up and give a few embarrassed coughs. Your flushed cheeks weren't exactly helping you out at the moment.

"Eh... So you're the best in many ways... Now, would you please help me out?"

Fyodor gave Nikolai-who was also smirking- a meaningful look, and his smirk got broader. "I will think about it"

"What's there to think about? You get to have a free dinner and also have a great time! My dad has the same taste in books as you! I'll even suck your dick at the end!"

You suddenly shut up and stared at the two men with eyes the same size as a racket ball. Now there was also two pare of knitted eyebrows along with the smirks. Nikolai's winking and muttering "Yeah baby" didn't help you loosen up at all.

Fyodor leaned closer until the phrase "personal space" lost its meaning, staring at you. His pretty eyes were sparkling, making it harder to steal your gaze from them. His voice was as gentle as the sea breeze, the perfect melody to caress your ears.

"So... I'll get to date the most beautiful girl in the world, spend a whole night with her and then get something afterwards?"

You were so drowned in your thoughts that you couldn't utter a single word. This moment was magical, making you wonder if he were going to seal your lips with his, totally forgetting about Nikolai's presence.

...Until he started talking.

"Do you guys want me to leave the room? Cause there's no way I'm doing that"

↳Nikolai Gogol

"...Which is why clowns are so fragile and have strong emotions!"

You shook your head with disappointment. "Yeah yeah, get it. But that doesn't answer my question"

"What was your question anyway?"

Ugh.

"Would you please babysit my cousins with me?"

"Hahaha! I remember now!" His face brightened with joy. "Well, no"

You leaned closer to him miserably. "Oh c'mon Kolya!"

"Sorry dove, I just don't get along with children. Not a fan"

"But they're triplets Kolya! I can't handle them on my own!" At this point you were literally begging. "Pretty please?"

"Triplets? Ha! Another reason for me to say no"

Well, that was it. You were going to be alone with your naughty cousins for four hours and then hand a burned house and probably only one of the boys back to your aunt because you lost the other two.

"Unless..."

Ah! There's still some hope left.

"You offer me something in return?"

Nikolai's face was dangerously close to yours. His smile was bright, but his intention didn't seem to be. Although that didn't scare you. It only made your body numb with excitement and through your clouded mind, you somehow put two and two together and blurted something out.

"Eh... What if.. What if I suck your di— Woah Nikolai what are you doing?"

A chuckle left his mouth as if something simple had happened, but this wasn't simple. He had just lifted you up and was carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

"You took the hint all by yourself. How about that, my naughty dove?"

"K— Kolya! Where are you taking me?"

Your red cheeks only made his smile broader. "We're gonna get your clothes changed, go to your aunt's aweful house, babysit your horrible cousins, and then get ready for a night of fun"

↳Sigma

"So... How's the best manager in the world?"

Sigma's stare was still pointed at the documents. "I'm not planning a birthday party for your friend y/n"

"What are you talking about?" You smiled cunningly, lightly caressing his arm from the other side of the desk. "Can't I just compliment my incredible friend? Who happens to be an expert in planning and managing stuff?"

When you two first met, he used to get flustered by your flattering comments, but now Sigma's eyebrows only jumped in surprise. "You... can, but it won't change my mind"

"Pretty please?" Dropping the act, you got up from your seat and stood next to him, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. "I really need your help. I don't have a clue about this and you're the only one I know"

"I'm sorry y/n, but I'm caught up with work. You know that the casino is very busy this time of year, there's nothing I can do"

You sighed and sat on the chair again, desperately thinking about a way to convince him. What would make men do women a favor...

"What if I suck you dick?"

Sigma was still staring at the documents, which made you wonder if he had heard you, but his eyes were not the same. They were widened. He slowly lifted his head and looked at you like he was about to chop off his hand and stick it down his ass, and that made you finally realize it.

"Oh I forgot that you're three years old! I mean you haven't even hit puberty yet. Oops. My bad"

Yeah, Sigma needed new friends.

Tag List:

@pussydrunkfyodor @h8kolya @exhausted-doll @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani @ilovechuuyaa @ezraiix @aeshiiteiru @dreamcastgirl99 @bestiewhat

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

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2hightocare · 4 months

Text

SNOW IMPRINTS ✷

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.”

Synopsis: What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

Genre: established relationship! married au!

Pairings: DILF!Jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: Jungkook being whipped as fuck, Jungkook being a girl dad! (Cute.) a lot of cussing, mentions of sex, mentions of consumption of alcohol, found family.. Jungkook is just such a cutesy dramatic baby!

a/n: hai… I disappeared for a bit but happy new year!! I read “unravel me” and it inspired me to write this super short blurb so enjoy Jungkook being a golden retriever husband. (Ignore all mistakes, wrote this while high) 🤍 Word count: 1.4k

“I’m literally the biggest DILF,” your husband starts again. Jungkook points to himself while Iseul giggles in his arms.

“If you don’t shut the fuc—“ Yoongi irks.

“No cussing!” You and all the wives jump in. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth because this is like the hundredth time you have told all the boys not to cuss when the kids are around. Not since what happened when you decided to babysit Ye joon.

“Jeon, get your ass in here!” You shout from the kitchen, hoping your husband can hear you from upstairs. You stare at the empty cookie jar you had refilled yesterday, and there was only one reason why they were gone.

“What, baby?! What’s wrong?” Jungkook runs down the stairs with Iseul in one hand and Ye joon in the other. The two babies laugh at the bouncing. “Did you eat all the cookies!?” You glare at Jungkook, your hands on your hips as your husband looks everywhere but your eyes.

“Actually… Taehyung stole some when he left Ye joon.” He explains as if that would change anything. Knowing Jungkook for ten years, you know damn well Taehyung maybe took three cookies and the other fifty Jungkook ate them.

“No more cookies.” You announce with a shrug not wasting any time and move closer to your daughter who’s in your husband's arms, who stands there with mouth agape.

“No mowe cookies dada!” Iseul giggles as she makes grabby hands for you to pick her up, wiggling out of Jungkook's arms as you grab her.

“Now what do you mean no more cookies?” Jungkook switches Ye joon to his other arm, mouth hanging open dramatically. “There were like three packs in there, and you ate them in a few hours, so no more cookies.” You dance around the kitchen with Iseul in your arms, her chubby arms wrap around your neck as she laughs non-stop. Contrast from Jungkook on the other side of the white counter.

“What the fuck, baby?” Jungkook literally whines as Ye joon giggles, his little hands in his mouth, drool dripping down his chubby cheeks. “Come here, baby, come with your aunt.” You make your way to Ye joon only to stop in your tracks.

“Fuck!” Ye joon beams, clapping his hands, smiling up at you with all his baby teeth showing, as you stare at him dumbfounded.

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” You quickly interfere as Jungkook is staring at you with wide eyes. “Fuck! Fuck!” Ye joon laughs as Iseul joins in.

“Fuck!” Another giggle.

“This is so your fault!” You point to your husband who is trying so hard not to laugh. “Don’t laugh!” You put a hand over your mouth, trying to hide your amusement.

“I’m not— fuck!” Jungkook slaps a hand over his mouth.

“How the fuck are we going to explain this to Taehyung and Ari?” you sigh with a slight laughter in your tone.

“Fuck!”

“We couldn’t get Ye joon to stop saying the f word for like two weeks straight; daycare was seriously about to kick him out,” Taehyung sighs dramatically as Yoongi stares at Eunbi, his wife who stares down at her tiny belly. Wondering if that’s going to be his case in the future.

“Let’s pray for the new baby to not come out like this little beast,” Jimin squeezes Ye joon’s cheeks, making him squirm in Taehyung’s arms.

Ye joon, three years old, Taehyung and Ari’s child, the second-born from the group and the most mischievous, he really doesn’t listen to anyone but his parents, besides Jungkook and you. His godparents. Jiho, first-born, Seokjin’s and Lora’s child. He’s about to turn ten in January. Iseul, third-born, Jungkook's and your child, two years old and the only girl at the moment.

Besides Eunbi, who’s three months pregnant, no one else is going to have kids anytime soon, well, that’s what they say.

“It’s cold; let's go inside, girls.” You suggest as you pick up Iseul from her dad's arms, as the girls stand up following your movements inside the house through the glass door.

“Give Ye joon to Ari!” Hoseok hushes as he swats Taehyung on the shoulder. “Babe! Take Ye joon!” Taehyung shouts. Ari laughs at how her husband has Ye joon up in the air like the Lion King waiting to be taken.

“Come with mama.” Ari picks up the boy in a puffer jacket, making him look like a big marshmallow before skipping inside, joining all the girls inside.

“So sad Seokjin and Namjoon couldn’t come... they really decided on that cabin instead of us, crazy.” Jimin whines as he takes a sip of his beer before placing it in the hole he made in the snow before snuggling into his sweater.

“Honestly, I would take being in a cabin with my wife a hundred times more than being here,” Jungkook playfully jokes, “imagine the bomb-ass sex in the woods,” He smirks with the rim of his bottle on his lips, making the rest of the boys roll their eyes.

“Crazy how y/n has you wrapped around her finger,” Yoongi chimes in, blowing into his hands as if it would make them non-cold.

“Not even.” Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes.

“Dude, you’re so whipped, like it’s so fucking crazy,” Taehyung joins in, as he laughs when the boys hum in agreement.

“Dude, you tried to wrap her in bubble wrap when she was pregnant because you swore she would fall and hurt herself,” Hoseok recalls two years ago. “She could’ve fallen down the stairs; I needed to take precautions,” Jungkook tries to defend himself but fails miserably.

“What the fuck is that for?” You question your husband who enters the main door with a giant bubble wrap roll.

“This is for your safety, baby, can’t have you falling and hurting yourself, so I’m wrapping the whole house like it’s a Christmas present.”

You stare at your husband who is speaking literally, “Jeon, you are not wrapping anything,” you warn him.

“It’s either wrapping this house up or I’m wrapping you in bubble wrap for nine months... your choice baby,” Jungkook shrugs, looking down at your laying body on the couch, hands rubbing down your two-month pregnant belly.

“Be extremely for real.” Your mouth drops open dramatically.

“Even Iseul in her two years of life has you pining after her; imagine when she gets a boyfriend.” Jimin brings up, almost sending Jungkook into a cardiac attack right there and there.

“Fuck no! No boys till she’s forty!” Jungkook points his finger to Jimin. “Or girls either!” He finishes with a pout, making the boys howl in laughter.

“Excuse the fuck outta me!” Jungkook shoots up from his chair.

Somehow the conversation steered with a lighthearted joke about who was the biggest, and suddenly everyone ganged up on Jungkook, talking about he had the smallest dick of all of them.

“We all know that Taehyung has the biggest dick here, let's be honest,” Jimin shrugs, which only makes Jungkook's jaw drop lower.

“Say less, only one way to find out.” Jungkook reaches for his zipper.

“Ayo, what the fuck! There are children here,” Hoseok rushes out, “we are not about to whip our dicks out to compare sizes,” he finishes.

“Of course not.” Jungkook makes his way to the snow, his back facing the boys as his zipper gets pulled down, and before everyone knows it, he spreads his arms wide, face planting in the white snow.

“Shit, fuck, cold!” He scrambles to his feet, tucking himself in as he shivers from the cold. Then, he chuckles with a grin plastered on his face as he points to the snow angel on the snow… and a perfectly shaped imprint of his cock.

“So who’s next?” Jungkook asks.

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.” Yoongi shakes his head, crossing his arms.

They all dipped their dicks in the snow to compare dick sizes.

“What the fuck! I swear it shrunk cause it’s cold, I swear,” Taehyung begs to the boys who stare at all the lined imprints.

“Motherfuckers, I told y'all I was the biggest,” Jungkook smiles proudly as he sees he is the biggest out of all of them.

“I can’t believe this, we just boosted his ego more,” Jimin sighs as he stares at his own imprint and then to Jungkook's.

The glass door slides open, making the five men abruptly turn around. Five women come marching towards them, “what are you guys doing?” Ari asks, with a big smile on her face.

“Nothing,” Taehyung answers a little too fast.

You stare at your husband, raising your eyebrow at him, and that makes him fold like a lawn chair. “We were comparing dick sizes in the snow,” Jungkook blurts out, “I won though!” He cheers, pointing to his snow angel happily.

“Fucking shit, y/n how are you upright?” Eunbi gasps as she stares at Jungkook's imprint. “Now we know why you are always so damn happy,” Yoongi chimes in with a grin.

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 months

Text

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

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

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

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and do you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

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

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

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

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

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

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

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

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

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

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

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

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how do you know?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

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

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

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

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

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

>> nami <3 >> google tbh.

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

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader smut #higuruma smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie #toriwritesshit

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jamespotterismydaddy · 7 months

Text

Seeded and Sore

aemond x niece!reader

A/N: fufilling a request, hope you enjoy love

word count: 1,347 words

TW: smut, DUBCON, spanking, incest, threats of violence (not to reader), breeding kink, slight knife kink, virginity loss, rough smut

“What are you wearing?” Aemond asks as his eyes rake over your figure. Your beloved betrothed often has issues with how you dress, the issues specifically relating to the sparse coverage the fabric provides your body.

“A dress.” You say. “ You know, kepus, with how much people drawl on about how clever you are, I would have expected you’d recognise the garment.”

“I don’t believe most people would consider that even half a dress, riñītsos.” little girl. “Change.”

Ever since you were engaged, Aemond has made a habit of ordering you around. Neither of you enjoy the arrangement but since he is a handful of years older, and a man, your uncle has decided that you must adhere to being the perfect little wife.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember the marriage bells tolling. So why are you commanding me as if I am your wife?” You ask defiantly.

“Because you are a brat who doesn’t know what’s good for you. Princesses don’t go around dressed like common whores. When you become my wife, I will not tolerate such behaviour.” He says to you and you try not to giggle at how he attempts to flaunt his power when you know for a fact that he is pitching a tent in his pants at the same time.

“Of course, uncle.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone before walking off to where the jousts are happening, with no intention of changing your gown on the way.

~~~

Ser Brandon, that’s the name of the cunt you give your favour to. Aemond likes to think that for duty’s sake, you’d give him your favour if he’d competed. But he knows that you give about as many shits about duty as he does tourneys.

You smile at Ser Brandon and giggle at him flirtatiously before you toss him the wreath of flowers. Aemond pays close attention to the way your breasts are pushed up as you bend over the railing and say something only loud enough for the knight to hear. The encounter fills his whole body with lust and rage.

“What did you say to him?” Baela asks you, ever the gossip.

“I told him that if he won, then i’d give him much more than my favour.” You say and Baela gasps at the scandal as you both giggle about it together.

Your uncle’s blood boils. Surely you didn’t intend for him to hear that? But he knows how you are and he knows just how to put you in your place.

~~~

You jump as the door to the library bursts open. “Everyone out!” Aemond shouts and the few occupants leave, quickly obeying the angry prince. Not you though; you know the demand didn’t extend to you.

“My my, uncle. What has irked you so?” You ask him in a condescendingly sweet tone as you rise from your chair.

He strides over to you and grabs you by the chin and you gasp softly. “Do you think that you can make a fool out of me, niece?”

“I must misunderstand you. I would never try to make you look foolish.” You reply calmly.

“Hmm… then why did you offer to fuck another man right in front of me?” He asks, matching your calm tone which makes you nervous enough to drop your eyes. His hand moves to the back of your head and he grips your hair tightly at the roots, pulling your head back so that you have to look up at him. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

“Let me go.” You pout a little and grasp at his arms in an attempt to make him release you. He yanks your hair harder and you aren’t sure if you moan in pain or pleasure.

“You. Belong. To. Me.” He says seriously. “Do you understand? No other man will touch you.”

You stay defiantly silent.

“I will make you understand then.” You don’t have a chance to contemplate what he means before he drags you to the nearest table in the library and bends you over it.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?! Let me up now!”

“Be quiet now, riñītsos. We wouldn’t want to draw anyone in when you’re in such a state, now would we?” He says as he pins your hands behind your back with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other. “Do you know what i’m going to do to you with this?” He asks as he places the belt on the table and lifts your skirts. “Do you know how common girls are punished when they’re naughty?”

“Aemond don’t!” Your protests are met by a whip across your ass by the belt.

“I told you to be quiet. I have been far too lenient with you and now it’s time for proper punishment.” He spanks you again with the belt and you whimper but don’t say anything this time.

He pulls your smallclothes down so you’re bare from the waist down and you squirm at the embarrassment of your handsome uncle disciplining you in such a way. He admires the way your cunny is glistening with wetness.

“Let me go you bastard!” You say, humiliated by your own arousal.

“Oh do you like this, riñītsos? Do you like it when your uncle gives you what you deserve?” He gives you another swat with the belt and the pain intensifies with the lack of protection your smallclothes provided.

“I’m sorry.” You whine out softly, trying to end the punishment but he continues. “I promise I would’ve never let him touch me.” He scoffs at your words and you feel him roughly bind your wrists together with the belt.

The sound of his dagger being unsheathed rings through the air. “If he ever comes near you again, i’ll slit his fucking throat.” He cuts your dress from halfway up the bodice down to the hem so he doesn’t have to hold it up anymore. You then hear him fiddling with his trousers. “He will know who you belong to soon enough, when your belly swells with my babe inside of it.”

“No you canno-” You begin to struggle and protest when you hear what he says but your words are cut off when his thick cock is thrust into you and he quickly sets a tempestuous rhythm, fucking in and out of you like you are nothing more than a cock sleeve. He grips your hair roughly and yanks your head back so he can speak directly into your ear.

“Do you know what i’m doing to you right now? I’m ruining you. Nobody will have you after this but me.” His hips continue to meet yours and you let out a little moan. “I’m going to fill you with my seed everyday for the rest of your life. Any stranger who comes by will know you’re mine when they see our silver haired children clutching at your skirts. The children I put inside of you.”

His cock continues to slam into you mercilessly and you can do nothing except lie there and take it.

“Kepus…” You breathe out when you feel yourself steadily climbing to your peak.

“Gods, you’re gripping me like a vice. So much big talk for a girl with a virgin cunt.” He laughs at you and gives your ass another slap. “It’s okay, riñītsos. I’m going to fill you now, fill you nice and deep.” He gives a few more slower thrusts before spending himself inside of you, the feeling of his cum filling you causing you to reach your own peak as well.

He lets you rest for a moment as you breathe heavily before he unties you but only so he can put his belt back on and make himself look presentable. He tosses his cloak to you so that you might cover yourself.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, niece. I shall speak to your mother about us marrying on the morrow.” He says as he walks to the door. “Oh and one more thing. Don’t even think about drinking moontea.”

taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

#aemond targaryen #hotd smut #hotd #aemond #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond targryen smut

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mionemymind · 21 days

Text

The Actress & The Geek

Summary: A late night practice causes Y/n and Wanda to confess their feelings.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Slight Angst

A/n: I might post another one shot like this with a similar layout but different setting, like what if they needed an understudy? Would y’all want that?

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“Wandaaaa, where are you taking me?” Y/n annoyingly asked. Her newfound friend, Wanda Maximoff, dragged her to the College’s stage room. “I need help practicing my lines and you’re the only person I know who would be up at this time.”

Y/n glanced at the hallway clock, it was close to midnight and by now, Wanda’s friends were either partying or asleep. “I don’t know why you’re panicking so much. Everyone knows you’re going to get the part.”

Wanda pushed through the doors and excitedly ran up the stage, leaving Y/n by the bottom of the steps. “You don’t know that. I heard rumors that Violet might get it over me.” Y/n sighed at Wanda’s poor excuse of a lie. “Now stop being a baby and come over here.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and slowly walked up the steps and in front of Wanda. “Turn to page 214. I’ll start us off, okay?” Y/n reluctantly opened the script and turned to the page. Once Wanda saw that Y/n was ready, she started.

“Did I do something?” Wanda asked nervously, a hint of hurt in her tone. Y/n was stunned for a moment at how quickly Wanda got into character. Not wanting to disappoint her friend, Y/n tried her best to act in the scene.

“What makes you ask that?” Wanda walked away with a sigh as she combed her hand through her hair. “Are you seriously acting clueless right now?” Wanda gave Y/n a ridiculous look.

“Answering with a question doesn’t quite help-”

“You’re avoiding me.” A small pause happened in the script as Y/n and Wanda stared at each other. Y/n turned away, “I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

Wanda groaned and stomped back to Y/n. She spun her around and grabbed her hand. “Quit acting like a child and talk to me.” Wanda’s character was desperate to hear anything from Y/n, her eyes pleaded for some truth.

“I don’t know if I can tell you.” Wanda’s mouth twitched into a frown. She dropped Y/n’s hand and took a step back. Looking at the ground, Wanda played with her hands, unable to look at Y/n. “You used to tell me everything…but now you barely hang out with me anymore.”

Wanda’s eyes started to water, she started to walk away until Y/n’s character held her hand. “If I tell you-,” Y/n groaned as her character didn’t know what the best choice of words was going to be. In a softer tone, she says, “If I tell you…we can’t go back to the way things were.”

Wanda appeared scared of the truth but things had already changed ever since Y/n became distant. So who cares if the truth changes everything? Maybe now it will help this obstacle between them.

“I-,” Y/n’s eyes looked over Wanda’s shoulder, acting as if there was a character back there. “Tell me you’re not in love with him,” Y/n desperately begged. Wanda looked back, her hand still in Y/n’s, and pretended to see somebody.

She faced Y/n again, searching Y/n’s eyes for the meaning behind this. “What?” Y/n pulled Wanda closer, their faces inches apart. “Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

“Why does that matter?” Wanda challenged. Y/n gulped at how little space was between them but still pushed through with the character. “Because if you’re in love with him - I cannot be with you.”

Wanda acted as if someone called her name, but on cue, Y/n cupped Wanda’s cheek and kissed her briefly. “Find me - when you do, tell me you feel the same.” Y/n let go of Wanda’s hand and backed away to the other side of the stage, leaving Wanda at the center.

With wide eyes, Wanda touched her lips, the feeling of Y/n’s lips lingered. Her brain rumbled for the next line, but all she could focus on was Y/n. “Uh Wanda, did you want to finish the scene or?”

“You kissed me,” Wanda whispered to herself, surprised that it happened. “Did you want to kiss me?” Wanda only dreamed of a moment like this ever since she met Y/n back in the fall semester. She remembered bumping into Y/n on day one of rehearsal. Ever since then, they’ve always remained friends, until the day Wanda wanted something more.

In the basement of the party, Wanda sat with a group of her friends that go way back to high school and her castmates from the play. Y/n sat beside her already five shots deep into the night. Everyone was socializing and having a great time as the play had phenomenally gone well.

“We should play spin the bottle,” one of the crew techs said. Everyone was in some agreement wanting to spice the night up. “Okay, I’ll go first,” Steve said. The semester was close to an end and all Steve wanted to do was loosen up. He spent the majority of the semester worrying about his grades, his scholarship, and his football career.

The bottle spun and low and behold, it landed on the very person he wanted to kiss. “You down Bucky?” The liquor in Steve gave him the confidence he needed, otherwise he would have hidden. “You don’t even have to ask.” The two met in the middle for a slow but passionate kiss.

The group screamed with delight as Bucky deepened the kiss, almost going in with his tongue. “Okay you two, break it up!” Bucky pulled away with a charming grin on his face as Steve sat back looking love-struck. “Up next!”

Carol was next to spin, “God, I hope I get a good kisser,” Y/n whispered yelling into Wanda’s ear. The brunette forced a grin as she suddenly felt ill at the thought of someone else kissing you. She tried to think of something clever to say but nothing came out.

Focusing back on the group, Carol had just gotten done kissing Maria, another duo in Wanda’s group that had crushes on each other. It was now Y/n’s turn. She spun the bottle with great anticipation of who she was going to kiss tonight.

Slowly but surely, the bottle was making its last spins until it passed Wanda and stopped to the girl beside her, Natasha. Wanda could feel her heart drop as the two girls looked at each other with mischievous smiles. “Looks like you have to kiss me Y/n - don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Wanda closed her eyes as she saw the pair leaning in, praying it would be over quickly. And when she opened them back up, she couldn’t help but wish that the bottle landed on her.

“Yeah - I mean it was in the script. I didn’t - I thought you wanted me to commit to it.” Y/n walked back to Wanda scared that she accidentally hurt her friend. “Was it fake for you?” Y/n stood still for a moment, afraid to answer. Wanda walked forward, closing the distance between them. “Tell me - did that kiss mean anything to you.”

“Wanda - I - I’m sorry. I really thought you wanted me to-”

“-What I want is to know if you like me or not. So tell me,” Wanda declared. The beating in her heart could not stop as she waited for Y/n’s answer. “I thought you would do just a kiss on my cheek or would have said that you kissed me out loud. But you kissed me and I can’t go back now.”

Tears formed in Wanda’s eyes as Y/n wracked in her brain for words to say. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long now - so please tell me that was real.” The tears fell to her cheeks as her heart beat in anticipation.

“Please say something,” Wanda begged.

“Please don’t cry,” Y/n whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of Wanda crying in front of her. “Why shouldn’t I?” Wanda wiped some tears with the back of her hand, feeling stupid for even confessing.

“‘Cause I never knew you felt the same.” Y/n pulled Wanda close and kissed her deeply, wishing to show that this was the kiss that Wanda deserved, not from some stupid play, but from the fact that Y/n truly loved Wanda.

Wanda steadied herself, placing her hands against Y/n’s chest as she fiercely kissed back. The more Wanda pushed to steady herself, the more Y/n leaned in, begging for more. Their gasps and labored breaths were in sync as the kiss went from passionate to needy.

With each kiss, Y/n poured her heart, wishing that she could stop tasting her tears. Pulling back slightly, Y/n heaved out, “Please stop crying.” Y/n used one hand to wipe away the tears. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Wanda chuckled as she looked at Y/n with such adoration. “I think you owe it to me to redo the scene.”

“Want me to kiss you better?” Wanda pondered for a second, “Something like that plus you’re acting skills could use some practice.”

Y/n gasped, a feigned hurt expression on her face. “I think I was amazing. Might have to audition for lead love interest.”

“Guess we gotta practice our kiss scenes.”

“Way ahead of you Maixmoff.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #the actress and the geek

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beforeimdeceased · 6 months

Text

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT3

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: she’s the same ellie she’s always been.

a/n: am i building up tension so they can be genuine enemies to lovers? maybe…

why’d you have to make a record ‘bout me?

masterlist.

“what the actual fuck ellie?” you storm into the dressing room, startling jesse and dina, who’d been sitting on the couch. jesse jolts up to walk over to you but you jerk your body away and rush at the laughing girl. “you wrote a fucking song about me?”

“why are you so pissed?” she rolls her eyes. you take a deep breath before turning around to face jesse and dina. “can you guys tell her why i’m pissed? if i do she’ll be leaving with a disfigured face.”

“i’d love to see you try to fuck me up.” ellie chimes in. you’re about to turn and yell at her when jesse grabs your arms and leads you outside. dina shakes her head, walking towards ellie, looking displeased. the last thing you hear before jesse closes the door is ellie’s crude laughter.

“did you know she was gonna do that?” you furrow your brows. he shakes his head rapidly while pulling you in for a hug. “no, i’m so sorry. if i did i would’ve never let her onstage.”

you’re sobbing now. tears of embarrassment pooling from your eyes and onto his shirt. memories of the moment flash before your eyes. her ridiculous and crude lyricism. the smirk on her face as yours fell. her making it painfully obvious that she was singing to you. about you. and not in a good way.

jesse pats your back while shushing you, repeated apologies falling from his lips. he catches their manager walking by and calls out to him. “hold on i’ll be right back. i’m gonna talk to jace about this.”

you nod, slumping down on the floor as he walks away. it takes you several deep breaths to not burst through the door and bash her head in. then you hear her talking nonchalantly on the other side. “dina it’s not that big of a deal. seriously. she’s such a fucking crybaby.”

you’re reminded of the night you’d cried into ellie’s lap. the next day you showed up apologizing profusely with a new pair of pants for her. her telling you that it’s fine. inviting you in. offering you a snack. a bottle of water. asking if you wanted to watch videos with her about space.

how could such a sweet person be such a fucking asshole and barely show any remorse? how were you meant to just get over everything she’d done? how could you let that person kiss you? see you in your most vulnerable state? call you a crybaby?

before you know it, you’ve stormed back into the room. ignoring dina’s calm and soothing voice, to punch ellie in the face. you’re hyped on adrenaline until the pain settles in. your knuckles burning and her nose bloody. what had you done?

“i’m gonna fucking kill you. so you better choose your last words carefully.” blood was spilling into her mouth. the overflow of iron settling thick in her throat. dina steps between the two of you holding her hands up. “ellie, why do you always do this shit? your nose should be permanently broken from all the fights you get into. just let it go.”

“not too good to fight with me now, huh?” ellie talks over dina’s back. her words are muffled by her hand over her face. you hit her hard as fuck, and a secret part of you hoped it knocked some sense into her. the rest of you felt an overbearing sense of guilt. lashing out was her thing. fighting was her thing. blood was her thing. you had been trying so hard not to get caught up in all that. you even had hope that she was really changing for the better.

it seems you were wrong.

“i’m so-“

jesse bursts into the door, anger all over his face. he whispers something under his breath before looking up and taking in the scene. “fucking hell, what happened?”

you lower your face in embarrassment. “i don’t know what came over me. i’m so sorry ellie-“

jesse throws up his hands. “you know what, let’s not worry about this right now. we have to perform in five minutes.”

dina scrambles to grab her leather jacket off the couch and follows a frantic jesse out of the dressing room. you shake your head as you hear ellie burst into laughter. she’s hysterical, damn near falling out of her chair.

“jesus williams, what’s so fucking funny?”

“nothing—“ she chokes back more laughter attempting to speak. “it’s just— you know how to throw a fucking punch.”

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nathaslosthershit · 10 months

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Baby Fever and Annoying Brothers||Quinn Hughes x Reader

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Reader

Request: Could I get Quinn Hughes with baby fever and his brothers there to make fun of it?

Summary: Quinn gets baby fever real bad and his brothers bug him to propose

A/n: Listen I wasn’t a Quinn girly before but that has recently changed so thank you for these requests

Word Count: 700+

“Quinn, dude, come on let's go.” Luke complained. The brothers had been trying to start a basketball game for the past 45 minutes. Jack and Luke were ready, but Quinn kept pushing it off with a simple ‘5 more minutes then i'll be ready’.

What, you may ask, was keeping Quinn from playing a game with his family? The sight of his girlfriend interacting with the baby of a family friend of theirs. It was quite possibly the most addicting and adorable sight he has ever seen.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, no matter how hard he tried. The whole scene was beautiful. Outside, on the lawn chairs in the backyard, laid his girlfriend of 4 years gently swaying a now sleeping infant in her arms as she quietly spoke to the baby’s mother as well as his own mom.

“Quinn this is getting-” Jack was cut off when he saw it. His older brother sitting there, oblivious to the heart eyes he was making. It was hilarious to him. His big brother practically brought to his knees at the sight of his longtime girlfriend holding a baby.

As he stood next to Luke, Quinn finally was pulled out of his trance. Embarrassed at his brother's gawking, he finally went to play basketball.

But of course the two youngest Hughes couldn’t just not bring it up. It was their brotherly duty to chirp Quinn into his place.

“So when are you gonna actually purpose?” Jack asked. At this, Luke elbowed him in the side, hard.

“Come on dude let him live” Luke reprimanded.

“Thank you, Luke.” Quinn responded.

“No but seriously, he is right. You spend almost an hour staring at your girlfriend for holding a fucking baby. I know you’ve got a bad case of baby fever after that. When are you gonna actually get started on that shit? Unless you don’t plan on going the whole marital route before kids. I don't’ really know how some people would thi-”

“Can you both please just shut the fuck up about it.”

“Come on, Quinn, we are just chirping you. Although we saw the way you were looking at her. You sure that hasn’t changed anything…” Jack teased.

He was right of course. While he was staring, he was also envisioning a life with her. A life with his beautiful wife, in a beautiful home, with kids to fill it. Maybe they’d have one, or maybe a whole hockey team. Who’s to say? The last thing he wanted though, was to be discussing it with his brothers when they would just tease him.

“No, nothing has changed. Although things may happen sooner-” “What the fuck does that mean?” Luke asked.

“I just- I don’t need kids right this second.” Quinn stated.

“But?”

“But I do have a ring. I’ve kept it in my hockey bag for the last few months. I just- I just don’t know when I’m gonna propose.”

“Quinn why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Jack practically yelled.

“Does mom know? She will flip the fuck out if you got it and didn’t tell her?” Luke asked.

“Yes, she knows. She has been bugging me about it every single day. Trying to give me ideas and such but I just need to find the right time and place.”

“Isn’t now the right time and place though? You are with family, in a pretty fucking beautiful place. I mean what's stopping you from taking her on the boat tomorrow and doing it.” Jack joked. But he was right. You had once stated, while intoxicated, that you would have killed Quinn if he proposed in public, as if that was something he would ever do. The secluded boat would be the perfect place.

Quinn smiled to himself as he came to this revelation. He would propose, soon, and get started on the life he had envisioned. He didn’t answer either of them or tell them about his plans, but one look at his face and his brothers knew. They both shared a look as their absolutely smitten older brother went to grab the ball.

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader

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andvys · 5 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 24

Warnings: slight angst, weed and alcohol consumption, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of unrequited feelings, love triangle. not proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You take Robin's advice and take some time to yourself in hopes that it will help you figure out your feelings.

Word count: 5k

A/N: If any of you mind the Eddie x reader in this story, you might want to stop reading cause there will be more Eddie x reader from now but also, still a lot of Steve x reader, as well.

series masterlist

Chrissy is watching you with curious eyes as she leans against the counter in Robin’s kitchen, she is snacking on the raspberries that Robin had gotten for her. Robin is mixing the cocktails that you have wished for.

The Cure is playing in the living room, you are sitting on the couch, crossed legged with a magazine on your lap. The rain is paddling down the windows, distant thunder rumbling in the sky. This summer has been a hot and rainy one.

Robin looks over at you, watching the way you change positions and lie back, holding up the magazine as you hum along to the song.

“How long will it take her? What do you think?”

Robin looks over at Chrissy, eyes skipping down to her lips as she pops another raspberry into her mouth.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks, blushing when Chrissy catches her staring.

Chrissy looks down at the counter, hiding her smile. She might not ever get over the very visible effect she has on Robin.

“For her to call Eddie.”

Robin snorts.

“Well, I told her that she needs time to herself.”

“She really does but there is no y/n without Eddie anymore,” Chrissy chuckles.

“Seriously,” Robin mumbles.

Chrissy furrows her brows, eying her slowly, “I mean, it’s not a bad thing. Eddie is good to her.”

She nods.

“Yeah, well, she needs to figure out her feelings and who she wants.”

Chrissy frowns.

“Robin, I don’t think that she wants anyone, right now,” she mumbles, shaking her head at the taller girl, “even if she has feelings for Eddie, it doesn’t mean that she will get into a relationship with him now, she’s not ready and he knows it, that’s why he hasn’t made a move on her yet.”

Robin and Chrissy are aware of Eddie’s feelings – everyone is, everyone except for you.

Anyone can see the way he looks at you. The way his eyes light up whenever he sees you, the way his cheeks flush a deeper color whenever you lean closer to him or take his hand. The way he looks so much happier when you’re around.

“It’s not just Eddie, she still loves Steve and one of them is gonna end up with a broken heart,” Robin mumbles as she reaches for the straws in the drawer.

Chrissy frowns at her, “you’re acting like she’s leading them on, Robin. It’s not like she’s messing around with them both. As far as I know, Steve was the only one she kissed and that was only one time. She’s not even hanging out with him unless we’re all there. I don’t think that he’s ever getting a second chance.”

Robin sighs as she puts the straws into the drinks she just finished making.

“I get it, you care about all of them but nothing is happening between them–”

“Nothing is happening yet. You didn’t see what I saw.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, she reaches for Robin’s hand, squeezing it tightly as she looks at her.

“Robin, you’re the best, my favorite girl ever, you know that.”

Robin’s heart skips a beat and a smile tugs at her lips as she looks down at the pretty blonde.

“But you need to leave them be. I can assure you, she would never hurt anyone on purpose, lead them on or mess around with them both. She’s not that kind of girl. She needs to figure out her feelings, yes. But she needs to do it on her own, I mean, we can be there for her and give advice but that’s all, nothing we will say or do will change the way she feels or thinks. We all know that she has feelings for them both and that fucking sucks because yeah, one of them will end up hurt if she has to choose between them but that’s not something that she or we need to worry about now. She is not even looking for a relationship and she’s certainly not looking for one with her ex-boyfriend – I mean, maybe in the future but not right now. Besides, I don’t think that he deserves her, not now, not ever.”

Chrissy looks at her with slight disappointment in her eyes, something that makes Robin shrink back a little. Robin has been more protective over Steve’s feelings than yours, it’s something that upsets her a little.

“I know he is your new best friend or whatever but, she is still your friend too and she’s been through a lot, don’t forget about what he did to her. The fact that she even took him back as a friend is more than he deserves. If I was in her place, I would’ve never even given him that chance.”

Guilt crosses Robin’s features and Chrissy knows that she had talked some sense into her.

“And don’t forget that it was Steve who made moves on her. He kissed her. She didn’t kiss him, she didn’t give him false hope, she also never gave Eddie false hope. So, let her deal with her feelings, let her feel – even if she ends up kissing them both or even hooking up with them both, it’s not your problem.”

She is right. Robin knows that she is but all she wanted to do was to keep her friends from hurting.

“Now let’s just drink these cocktails and have some fun,” Chrissy says, smiling at her.

Robin nods, “yeah.”

Chrissy steps closer, putting her hand on Robin’s shoulder, she inches closer and presses her lips against her cheek, kissing her.

It’s not the first time that Chrissy kissed her cheek but it makes her heart explode every time.

“You’re a good friend to them all, Robin. But you need to let them figure it all out on their own.”

Robin is too busy freaking out over the little kiss to come up with any words.

Chrissy moves away, hiding her smile as she looks down. She takes the bowl of raspberries and one of the drinks.

“Let’s go.”

“Y-Yeah,” Robin squeaks out, she closes her eyes when the blonde walks out of the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she takes the other two drinks and follows her out.

You sit up when the two girls finally join you in the living room again. You close the magazine and throw it on the little table. Robin sits down next to you, handing you the drink she made.

You wrap your hand around the cold glass, taking it from her hand. You notice her pink cheeks and how she tries to hide her face behind her short hair.

“Took you two long enough, what were you doing in there, making out?” You tease her causing her to blush even harder.

She turns to you with wide eyes, hitting your arm, softly.

Chrissy giggles, staring at Robin.

“So, what kind of cocktail is it?” You ask, looking down at the pink drink.

“It’s a pink mojito,” Robin mumbles, rolling her eyes at the smirk on your face. At least you look a little more relaxed than you did earlier.

“Ooh! That sounds good!” You smile, looking between the two blushing girls, you hold your glass up, “well, cheers, girls!”

Chrissy smiles at the excited look in your eyes as you eagerly take a sip of the drink.

“Cheers,” Robin chuckles, flashing Chrissy a smile as she wraps her lips around the straw.

Your eyes widen as the sweetness hits your taste buds. You place your hand on Robin’s shoulder, turning towards her, excitedly.

“That’s so good, Robin! What the hell are you doing at Scoops Ahoy? You should be working at a bar!”

She chuckles, giving you a proud smile, “thanks.”

“You could be a bartender.”

Robin shrugs, patting herself on the shoulder as she takes another sip.

“A really hot one too,” Chrissy comments, causing Robin to almost choke on her drink.

You can’t hold back your laughter this time. You look at Chrissy, who is giggling at Robin’s reaction. You would be lying if you said that you are not impressed by Chrissy’s ability to flirt without turning into a blushing mess. She used to be so shy and awkward, now she seems more confident and happier than ever. It makes you happy to see her like this.

When you turn back to Robin, you almost burst into laughter again. Her cheeks are glowing.

When you first met her, you were a little intimidated by her, thinking that she was a little mean because of the way she would tease Eddie sometimes. You thought that she was someone who is very sure of herself and knows what she wants and how to get it. But it turns out that she turns into a shy, stuttering mess around the girl that she likes. You watched her flirt with Chrissy and fail miserably, something that makes Chrissy adore her even more.

“You good, Robin?” You ask, wiggling your brows at her.

“Yes, I’m fine! I’m gonna need a few of these tonight,” Robin mutters under her breath, staring down at her drink.

You know she expected something else of this night, something like you spilling all your true feelings to her but instead, she is the one getting teased.

By the look on her face, you already know that, that is gonna change soon.

Robin looks at the smile on your face, the one that doesn’t even reach your eyes. She knows what's going on in the back of your mind. A part of her wants you to just let all your guards down and spill all your feelings to her but the other part wants you to just let loose and have fun.

“Drink up, girl. I got some more cocktails for you to try.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s been a long time since you had spent time with them alone, a girls night was long overdue. There are certain things that you can’t talk about with Eddie or Steve. Only as your mind finally relaxes after a few drinks, do you realize just how much you missed them. You missed Robin and her rambles or how she tries to make you laugh with stories about her work days with Steve. You missed Chrissy, it’s been a while since you had been with her, since you had gone shopping with her or had a girls night like this. You have been so in your head, dealing with your own thoughts and feelings that you haven’t even been aware of how much you’ve neglected your friendship with them.

Neither Chrissy or Robin have ever pulled away from you. It was you who pulled away from them. Not because you didn’t want to be around them anymore but because you wanted them to have the chance to be alone and get to know one another without you standing in between them. And, it wasn’t just that. Chrissy’s past feelings for you made you worry about how Robin would feel about you and your friendship with them both.

Heather is rarely ever around anymore. It’s not something you blame her for. You know what it’s like to be in love and wanting to spend every moment with that person. You just miss her and your girls night with her.

The smell of nail polish and alcohol and the vanilla scented candle all mingle together, normally, you would have had a headache already had you not been so tipsy.

Chrissy is trying not to mess up your nails as she carefully applies the black color to your nails, all while giggling after a few too many drinks.

“I swear, you’re gonna mess this up, Chris,” you say, giggling as she shakily holds the applicator.

“I’m not gonna mess it up! I’m a pro!” She flicks her hair back.

You snort.

“I told you not to do it drunk!”

“I am not drunk, do you see me struggling?” She tilts her head, giving you a pointed look as she gestures to your left hand.

You hold it up, squinting your eyes as you look at the colored nails. Not a single drop of black is painting the skin around your nails. You are impressed to see it done so perfectly, considering how the girl was giggling the whole time as she applied the nail polish.

“Wow, that’s actually impressive.”

“Told you, I’m a pro.” She gives you a proud smile.

You hear Robin in the kitchen, preparing another round of drinks. You watch Chrissy, a smile tugs at your lips. She looks content, her skin is glowing and she is wearing a constant smile on her face.

She is happy now.

How have you not noticed how sad she had been before she met Robin?

How have you not realized why she hated Steve so much?

How have you not figured out how she felt about you?

You had always been so focused on him, on your feelings, on your pain. You never noticed what was going on around you or who you were hurting.

She did so much for you. She was always there for you. She was there when you cried over him. She was there when he kept hurting you. She was there when he broke your heart.

Could you have done the same for someone you were in love with?

You have spent so many nights wondering what could have been if you and Steve had never crossed that line, if you just stayed friends.

Would you have to watch him fall in love with Nancy?

Would you have to watch him get hurt?

Would you have to watch him get his heart broken by her over and over again?

Would you have to pick up the pieces over and over again when he’d crawl back to her only to get hurt again?

Would you have to watch him get his heart completely crushed when she’d leave him for someone else?

Would you have to watch him love her even after what she did?

Could you do what she did?

Could you pick up the pieces and be there for him while loving him so much? While he’d love someone else?

Your smile falls and your heart sinks a little when you think about the way she felt.

“Hey,” you whisper.

She looks at you through her bangs, “hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her brows pull together, she eyes the sad look on your face. She leans back, letting go of your hand so she can put the applicator back into the little bottle.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I was a pretty shitty friend for not noticing how you felt, back then.”

Her eyes soften, a sigh falls from her lips. She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s–”

“It’s not okay and I’m just really sorry. You were always there for me and I was only ever focused on my feelings.”

Her blue eyes flash with understanding. She is not mad at you, she could never be.

“Well, I would be too if I was in your place. You really loved him and he really hurt you. I don’t blame you for how you felt or how you dealt with your pain. He was the one for you – hell, if I imagine myself in your place, I’d probably forget about everyone around me! I would just pack my stuff and run away just because I wouldn’t be able to look at her!”

“Would you?”

Her shoulders slump and a sad smile tugs at her lips, “no, I could never leave you and Heather.”

“And Robin.”

“She’s the heartbreaker in this scenario.”

“Oh,” you nod, giggling before you realize what she just said. Your face grows serious and your eyes widen, “o-oh!”

Her eyes flash with amusement when she watches the realization cross your features.

“You’re in love with her? Like, you’re in love with her! Like, she is ‘the one’, the one?!” You say in a hushed whisper.

She nods, unable to hide the smile on her face.

You squeal as quietly as you can, clapping your hands together as a bright smile appears on your face.

“Oh my god, Chrissy!”

You throw your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Careful with the nails!” She says, panickedly before she falls into a fit of giggles when you squeeze her tightly.

“This is so exciting, Chris. Oh, I’m so happy for you– wait, are you two together? Please tell me you are, you are so cute together, oh my god, I’m gonna cry.”

You feel her body shaking a little as she pulls back from the hug, still laughing at your reaction.

“Yeah,” she whispers, “but it’s still a secret!”

“Since when!? How? Who asked who? I need to know everything!” You whisper.

She grabs your hands, grinning from ear to ear, she opens her mouth but before she can tell you anything, she gets interrupted by Robin who comes back with more drinks, cheerfully humming along to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

She halts in her tracks, looking between you two, “what are you two whispering about? Some gossip you can’t share with me?” She jokes.

“Oh no, y/n was just about to tell us something.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, really?” Robin asks, smiling when she notices how carefree and relaxed you look, for once.

Chrissy presses her lips together, trying not to laugh when you keep smiling despite not knowing what to say.

“I-I uh, I just, I love you guys so much. You’re my best friends.”

Chrissy smiles at you and so does Robin.

“We love you too,” Robin chuckles, “is that the alcohol speaking though?”

You shake your head, “no, I really do love you, you’re both amazing and I appreciate you two so much.”

Robin’s gaze softens, she gets down on the ground next to you, “alright, group hug, please.”

You and Chrissy laugh a little as scoot closer to her, throwing your arms around Robin’s shoulders.

“Careful with the nails!” Chrissy scolds you when she realizes that they haven’t fully dried yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh.

Five days had passed since you had last seen Eddie. You have never spent this much time without him, you and him have been inseparable from the moment he stepped into your life.

Robin told you to take some time to yourself, to spend time with her and Chrissy or to just be by yourself because apparently it’s something that you desperately need. Some alone time. So, that’s what you did. You took some time to yourself. You got your hair done. You went shopping with Chrissy after work on Tuesday, you went out for dinner with Heather on Wednesday and on Thursday you fought to urge to visit Eddie at work.

You had already caved on Tuesday and called him late at night. He sounded sad when he picked up the phone, until he heard your voice. You had spent two hours talking to each other, both wearing smiles on your faces as you laid on your beds and talked like you haven’t seen each other in forever.

And then you did the same on Wednesday and Thursday.

Tonight, you are at Heather’s party.

You are wearing a new outfit, you did your hair differently and let Heather do your make up before you helped her prepare everything for the party. You didn’t feel like coming, you didn’t feel like spending your Friday night like this. But, Robin, Chrissy and Heather all convinced you to come.

You would rather be somewhere else.

Now, three drinks in and a few drags from Argyle’s joint, you feel sadder than ever. Instead of having fun on the dancefloor, you are in the garden, laying on one of the pool loungers and looking up at the stars in the sky, thinking about Eddie and Steve.

A cold bottle of beer resting in your hand. The music from the house, the chatter and the laughter filling the silence out here.

It’s been a long time since you had spent this much time by yourself or with just your girls. Robin wanted you to confront your feelings but, it’s not something that you had done this week, at all. If anything, you had done everything to avoid it.

You keep running and running and you don’t know how to stop. You are afraid of what you are feeling. You are afraid of what would change if you would finally acknowledge your feelings.

You don’t want to acknowledge them, you don’t want to risk losing something great.

In the past few days, you have spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like, if you and Steve tried again.

Would things work out this time?

Or would you ruin everything beyond repair this time around?

What would it be like if you let your feelings for Eddie in?

Would you ruin yet another amazing friendship?

You sigh, closing your eyes as you shake your head at yourself. You finish the rest of your beer before you get up, swaying on your feet a little. Only now, do you realize how tipsy you really are.

“Shit,” you mumble, placing your hand on your forehead. You squint your eyes, staring down at the grass, your vision blurs a little.

You certainly can’t drive home like this, but it’s all you want. You want to go home. You don’t want to be here. You walk around the house, not bothering to get back inside and tell your friends that you’re leaving.

Eddie had a lot of bad days, though the past few ones have been one of the worst. His life had gotten so much better ever since you had stepped foot in it, you gave him something that he never had much of before; happiness and love. Though, the love was more platonic on your side, he never minded it, it’s more than he had ever gotten before. It’s something that he always felt privileged to have.

Who would have thought that he would ever get the chance to have someone like you in his life, in the first place?

Now that you’ve been gone, he got a taste of what his life would be like if you left again. And he hates it. He can’t stand it. The thought of you leaving makes him feel so lost and sad.

You’d take his heart with you and you would never even know it.

It was bad enough when you had called him on Monday, telling him that you’d be busy with Robin and Chrissy later that night and had to cancel your plans with him. He knew that Robin was the one who got in between you and it angers him a little.

She is doing it because of Steve.

‘Take a step back, Eddie. I don’t want you getting hurt.’ She had said to him the day at the lake. Except, she doesn’t really care about his feelings anymore. Eddie had done nothing to indicate that he was planning to make a move on you. You are still vulnerable. You are not ready for another relationship and you haven’t given him any big signs that you are even interested in him. Besides, you still love Steve and you might not ever stop loving him.

That’s why he would never think of making a move. He would rather stay your friend than lose you because he cannot keep his feelings to himself. It was bad enough when he had lashed out on you after he found out about the kiss.

If you had to choose between Steve and him, he is certain that he would lose.

Eddie looks down at the notebook and the song he had finished writing this week. At least, his sadness had inspired something.

A knock on the door startles him a little, he furrows his brows as he looks up at the clock on the wall, it’s almost 12am. He gets up, closing the notebook before he makes his way over to the front door.

He opens it with a frown on his face.

“What– y/n?”

“Hi!” You say with a cheerful and very drunk voice. You are swaying on your feet a little with your hands behind your back. “I got something for you,” you smile, excitedly.

“You – what? Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing, walking around at night?”

You don’t seem to care about the seriousness on his face. Instead, you reveal the ‘surprise’, holding up a bat plushie in front of his face.

“I saw this and it reminded me of you, so I got this for you – well, I actually stole it from the gas station after I went inside to buy doritos,” you mumble, as realization crosses your face and you start frowning, “I forgot the doritos, fuck!”

Eddie’s eyes soften, the worry still stays in his features but he’s more focused on the cute pout on your face and the bat that you had gotten for him.

He takes your hand in his, pulling you inside the trailer, “c’mere.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyeing you up and down, he notices the new outfit.

“Yeah. No, I mean, yes, I am okay. But, the party was boring and I-I missed you, Eddie,” you say as your shoulders slump and you look up at him with sad eyes, still holding the plushie. “I missed you so much.”

His heart flutters in his chest, his gaze softer than ever as he looks down at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Your eyes light up and you smile, holding up the bat, “I think I might have to keep him so I don’t have to miss you anymore.”

Amusement flashes in his eyes and he laughs, “I thought you bought – wait no, stole him for me! Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I’m a bad influence for you, you’re out here stealing plushies.”

“I just needed to have him! He’s my little Eddie.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, “you’re so weird.”

You pout at him and that alone causes his stomach to flutter and his heart to beat a little faster. He will never not welcome the feelings you leave him with. The effect that you have on him is unlike anything he had ever felt before. Eddie was always afraid of this, of falling for someone, because he always knew that he would end up hurt, that love means pain. But with you, he doesn’t mind what it will be, even if it ends in pain and heartbreak for him, he doesn’t care. You will never know.

He stares at the happy look in your eyes as your eyes flicker back and forth between the bat and him. The glitter on your skin glistens beneath the golden light in the living room. Your skin looks so soft, your hair so shiny from whatever you had put in it. The smile that lingers on your lips makes his heart flutter so strongly.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your brows knit together, a bigger smile appearing on your face, “thank you.”

You step closer to him and he watches with curious eyes. You inch closer and closer, until you’re right in front of him. You throw the bat on the small table and then, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s middle and hug him tightly, taking him by surprise.

He chuckles, trying to hide the fact that he is freaking out, right now.

You’re always affectionate, just not like this.

He wraps his arms around you, moving his hand through your hair. He smells your shampoo, your perfume, the hairspray in your hair but also, the weed and the alcohol.

“How much did you drink tonight?” He asks, mumbling into your hair as he leans down.

You press yourself further into his chest, tightening your grip on him, “not that much.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “that’s why you stole a plushie and are so cheerful – I’m still mad at you for walking through town, by the way. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you still should’ve called me. I would’ve picked you up.”

“I wanted to get some fresh air, and some doritos,” you frown.

“We’ll get you some tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “can I stay over tonight?” You ask, before you hold your hand in front of your mouth, yawning.

He smiles at you, “of course, come on. Let’s get that make up off first.”

He takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze as he leads you into his bedroom. You take a seat on his bed and tiredly lean down to take your shoes off but he tells you to sit back. He kneels down in front of you, pushing your hands away. He wraps his hand around your right ankle, placing your foot on his lap, his fingers graze your skin softly and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. He slowly loosens the strap around your ankle. His brows are pulled together, a concentrated look on his face.

All you can focus on is his touch and the way it makes you feel. The way something more blossoms in your chest as you feel his hands on your skin.

When he is done, he looks up and you quickly look away with a blush on your cheeks. He gets up and walks over to his dresser, opening the first drawer, he picks out a shirt.

“Alright, you get changed and I’m getting those makeup remover thingies,” he mumbles as he hands you the shirt.

You giggle at the confused look on his face.

He gives you a smile before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You get up and take your jewelry off first. Placing the rings and your necklace on the little nightstand. You take your top off first and then your skirt, throwing both items over the chair in his room before you put his shirt on. Instantly feeling much better in it.

You sit down on his bed again and lay back on the pillows, closing your eyes for just a moment before you already feel the tiredness washing over you.

“Uh, don’t fall asleep on me now, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he walks back into the room.

“I’m tired,” you whine.

“You can sleep in a few minutes,” he chuckles as he sits down beside you.

It’s not the first time that you are wearing his shirt, but every time he sees you in his clothes, he feels his heart skip a little faster.

“Come on,” he whispers, reaching for your wrist to pull you up. You groan but let him pull you up. You open your eyes, looking at him tiredly.

“So, tell me, what did you do tonight?” He asks, brushing your hair back. “Besides being a little thief?”

You giggle, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheek. He takes out one of the wipes.

“Well, I smoked a little weed and then I watched Chrissy and Robin being all flirty with each other.”

“What’s new?” He laughs as he begins to remove your makeup.

You sigh at the feeling, loving how gentle he is.

“And then I was just by myself cause I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“No?”

You shake your head, watching him. You eye his hair, the curls that never seem to look bad, you stare at his soft skin, at the beautiful brown eyes that always give you so much comfort, the ones you could stare into forever. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and for a moment, you let them linger, letting your mind go to places that Robin tried to keep you away from. You look at his nose and wonder how it can still look so perfect after all the fights he had been in.

Eddie is so beautiful.

Your eyes move down to his neck, to the chain hanging around it, to the tattoo that peeks out from underneath his shirt before your eyes move back to his, you watch the way he stares at your lips, you feel the way your heart races in your chest.

“Eddie?” You whisper.

His eyes meet yours.

Unbeknownst to you, his heart is racing like crazy.

“Yes?”

You look down at his lips again and suddenly, you feel the urge to feel them on yours.

“You’re really pretty.”

His eyes widen, he freezes, halting his movements but still cupping your cheek. His cheeks heat up.

“Thank you,” he whispers, blushing.

“And so sweet, you’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it, y/n,” he whispers. He tries to hide his nervousness behind a smile.

You don’t say anything else after this. You just keep smiling at him, staring at him the way you did before as he continues to carefully take your makeup off. But, something shifts in your eyes and something puts a shadow over the happiness in your eyes, your smile begins to fade the longer you spend too much time in your thoughts.

Eddie knows exactly what or who you are thinking about at this moment and it makes his heart sink a little.

You might find your way to him late at night.

But Steve will always be the one that lingers.

At least, that’s what Eddie believes.

But then, you say something that might change everything forever.

“I wish I met you first, Eddie.”

next chapter

only tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @littledemondani @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @nemesis729 @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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good-griief · 11 months

Text

just that ellie smut i was talking ab w servicetop!ellie and switch r! w a little bit of possessive/protective ellie<333

little warning for gross fratboy (attempted drugging implied)

Ellie had a temper. Everyone knew it. If something pissed her off, like her phone for example, she’d throw it across the room. The TV isn’t working? Hit it. Remote? Slam it on the table. Someone’s pissing her off? She’s either antagonizing them or punching them square in the jaw.

But if someone’s bothering you?

If anyone even dares to look at you wrong, touch you, or speak to or about you out of line— at a party for example, she’s in your ear whispering the most vile things as she stares the person down. She’s got her hands on your waist as she stands behind you, running the flats of her palms along your stomach to get it fluttering. Fuck, she’d try to touch you right there, coming around to stand in front of you and immediately bringing you in for a kiss.

You’d know what she was doing, offering to take her to the bathroom, to which she’d promptly agree. Though, what they didn’t know was how Ellie would be the one sat on the counter, whining and trying to keep herself quiet as you practically ruined her.

See, she loved being on top. She loved hearing you, but in times like these she always needed some extra love and care. Which you were more than happy to give.

However, tonight she denied your offer.

There’d been some frat boy— one she knowingly hated— talking to you, and once he handed you a drink, which you hadn’t seen made, she was leaving her friends and coming to you as you tried to deny his advances.

“I want to go home,” she told you when you offered to go upstairs. You agreed, gladly driving the two of you home with a hand on her thigh to help her relax.

You figured it was only a matter of time before she started to talk about wanting to kill that boy.

“I should’ve killed that idiot,” like you thought. “He was seriously going to try and roofie you, or something.” She was on her phone, furiously texting Jesse to get the guy out of the party. “Should’ve put my blunt out on his face,” she muttered.

She continued grumbling until you got to her apartment, making you chuckle to yourself as you unlocked the door and took off your shoes.

“Are you done yet, babe?” You asked her after she took off her shoes, muttering something about sticking a shoe up his ass and making you laugh even more.

“I’m completely serious,” she said, gaining a nod and a hum from you. “What if I didn’t notice?” You frowned at the sudden seriousness, making her sigh. “That kinda shit scares me. I don’t want anything happening to you— anyone, obviously, but you especially.”

You took a moment to take in the sentiment, biting your inner cheek as you nodded. “You don’t have to think about what might’ve happened, alright?” You turned, setting your keys on the counter. “I’m fine, and that guy’s gone.” You were speaking lamely, her words getting you to think of what might’ve happened, and making you so uncomfortable you just wanted to go to bed and start a new day.

Which you did.

Kind of.

You told Ellie you were going to bed when she went to shower, changing out of your clothes and into one of her shirts and briefs so you could lie down.

By the time Ellie got back, you were still up and texting Dina about what could’ve happened now that it was on your mind.

“I didn’t mean to put that in your head,” Ellie said as she got on a pair of boxers and a shirt. “Why don’t we watch something? Or cuddle?” She suggested, climbing up onto the bed and kneeling beside you.

“Cuddle,” you picked, setting your phone down as she happily lied beside you and put her arm around her waist.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said quietly, lips brushing the back of your neck. “I won’t let anyone touch you.” She pressed a gentle kiss there. “Promise.” And another. “You ever feel like something’s wrong… or if anyone’s bothering you, come to me. I’ll deal with it, ‘kay?” Her hand rubbed your waist, and you knew what she was doing.

And it was working.

“What’re you doing, El?” You turned to her and brought your hands to her hips, running them over her boxers.

She knew just how to say things to get you feeling… better. Anything she said could have you melting in an instant when she accompanied it with a soft tone, wet kisses, and possessive touch.

“Whatever you need.” She shrugged, hand coming to your face to cup your cheek and thumb dragging over the plush skin beneath it. She brought her mouth to yours in a gentle kiss, barely pecking your lips. “If you need me, I’ll give that to you,” she said against them, moving to straddle your hips. “Use me if you need to.”

“Ellie,” you warned, hand gripping her hip and making her huff out a breath. “If you want something, tell me.”

Her mouth came to yours again, kissing you with such need that you almost cooed at her. Your hands went to her back, pressing her down before they drifted to her thighs, stroking gently.

She sighed, pulling back to rest her head on yours. “I just want to get this off your mind,” she muttered. “Let me make it up to you. Help you forget.” She spoke between lazy kisses. “I can be good…” She kissed you again, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Her kisses were slow, head tilting and deepening each one as she slowly started to grind her hips down on you. You stopped her, gripping her hip again and making her sigh. “I love you,” she said in a muffled kiss. She repeated the words over and over, kissing you between each one until you finally gave her what she wanted and took control.

She would never just say she wanted you to fuck her. Somehow, she made it about you and your needs. As if she would crumble the minute she admitted hers.

But you knew. You knew it was really her that needed this.

You pushed her on her back, moving on top of her with her legs still around your waist. You took control of the kiss, pushing your tongue into her mouth. She sucked gently, hands gripping your hips as she groaned.

When you brought your mouth to her neck, her hands fumbled with the band of your underwear. She pulled it down to your knees, tossing it aside when you shimmied out of the fabric. Her hands rested on your ass, kneading at the skin and making you moan against her.

“My pretty baby,” she breathed, hands running up beneath your shirt to get it off and toss it aside. “All mine.”

“All yours, baby,” you reassured as you kissed her cheek, feeling the heat that came to it and chuckling. “Let’s get these off, yeah?” You moved from between her legs, pulling off her boxers before you offered your hands to help her sit up. “Come on.” You pulled her shirt off, smiling at her naked in front of you. “That’s better… You sure this isn't about you feeling better? Because, I’ll help you forget. You just gotta honest with me, sweetheart.”

“Told you already,” she pulled you into another kiss. “That scared me.”

You hummed, pulling back to push her hair out of her face. “Tell me you need my help, Ellie.”

The moment she met your eyes, she was done for, melting into your touch as she nodded in a daze. “Need you,” she muttered, earning another kiss. “Need to feel you— hear you. I need to make you feel better. Makes me feel better.”

There it was

“Lie down,” you told her upon receiving what you wanted.

“Are you sure you’re up for this tonight?” She quickly made sure, before you continued, that you were okay with this tonight. “I’d be more than happy to…” She looked you up and down, eyes taking in every detail of your naked body. “You know.”

You chuckled, knowing if you stopped this now it’d only be cruel. “I’ll do my best.” Ellie laughed at that, smile downturned. “Now, just, do what I say. Lie down.”

She nodded immediately, lying back on the bed. “Whatever you want.”

You brought your hand to her chest, running it down her torso slowly as you brought your mouth to hers. This time, you moved with an intent to get her as worked up as possible, until she couldn’t even remember what she was worked up about before. Your kiss was tantalizing, making her raise her chin in an attempt to get more from you. You obliged her wants, opening your mouth to let her slip her tongue between your lips as you kissed her.

Your hand ran up to her breasts, fingers slowly tracing around her nipples and making her sigh into your mouth. She kept up kissing you, though, knowing if he broke away you’d start the whole teasing process over. Her hands went to your neck, holding either side before one drifted down. She squeezed your tit, gaining a moan from you.

Your fingers lightly pinched her nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers and making her shudder.

She brought her other hand to your other tit, squeezing and beginning to knead the soft tissue in her hands.

She always got caught up in your breasts, paying extra attention to them and leaving you soaked by the time she decided she was done indulging herself. You didn’t complain, though. It made her even more aroused, playing with and fondling your tits while she moaned in your mouth just from that.

Your free hand trailed down her torso, stopping at her lower belly and tracing lazy shapes on the area to make her hips twitch.

“Yeah?” You hummed against her lips, nearly making her whine. “I don’t even have to bother with all this teasing, do I?”

“Never do,” she muttered, words damn near pathetic and making you smile against her lips as she went red. “Fuck,” she breathed into the kiss, slowly getting more embarrassed. “Didn’t mean to say that.”

You laughed. “It’s true, though, sweetheart… Isn’t it?” She immediately responded with a nod, letting you know you were already starting to get her into a submissive state.

You brought your mouth away from hers. She tried to follow you, making you bring your hand to her shoulder to push her down. You brought your mouth to her chest, sucking faint bruises on her skin and lowering them until you reached her breasts. Your tongue slid out as your hand smoothed over her abs, wetting her nipple and making her groan as her hips squirmed.

Your tongue circled her nipple, her hips squirming as she groaned. Her hands roamed your body, trying to distract herself with how worked up she was getting from almost nothing.

You took her nipple between your teeth, rolling gently. She sucked in a breath, but the slight pain made her even more aroused as you licked over the hardened bud. Small kitten licks were enough to get her whining and parting her legs for you, telling you what she wanted and where.

You didn’t respond to her request, only moved to kneel between her legs as you continued to toy with her breasts, licking and sucking to make her even more aroused.

“Baby, please,” she sighed out as your mouth went back to her neck, refusing to touch her anywhere below her belly button and making her go crazy. “Down,” she said, not having the composure to speak properly.

“Down?” You lifted your head, false confusion knitting your brows together. “Down here?” Your hand drifted to her abdomen.

“Lower.”

“Here?” To her lower stomach, you pressed down gently, massaging the area and gaining a moan from her. “Is that right?”

“Lower, baby. Please.”

“Lower…” You looked down, moving your hand to her hip and gaining a frustrated groan. “Not here, then?” You moved your hand to her thigh. “Is this better?”

“Stop it,” she was getting frustrated with you, face reddening and making you chuckle.

“Don’t start acting like a brat, Ellie. I’ll start this over.”

“No, no, no. I’m sorry— fuck— I, just, baby,” she whined, groaning as your fingers stroked her inner thigh. “Baby, I need you so bad.”

“Mhm…” You rocked your hips into hers. “Is that good enough for now?” She nodded eagerly, satisfied with whatever she could get. Especially if it was tribbing. You hummed, gripping her thigh to pull her closer as you ground your hips down on hers. She cursed, moaning as her hands reached up to take your face between them and pull you down. Her lips met yours in a desperate kiss, her mouth sloppy as she moaned into yours.

Your hands went to her breasts, kneading them softly.

When she ground her hips up, you stopped rocking into her, moving back where you were outside her legs, and making her whine. You grabbed her thigh harshly when she tried to squeeze them together, pressing them open so you could bring your hand between them.

Your hand cupped her pussy, still not giving her what she wanted as you palmed her slowly.

She knew, in the end, all this teasing would be worth the orgasm that came out of it, but it was still frustrating in the moment; frustrating enough to make her curse at you.

“Fucking touch me,” she gritted, reaching down to grab your hand.

“Don’t start this,” was all you had to say to get her to drop her hands to her sides, but that didn’t stop her mouth.

“You’re so fucking—“ You cut her off with a harsh slap on her cunt, making her eyes roll back as she moaned.

Yes, she was often on top, and sure, she could be dominant— but that certainly didn’t mean she could disrespect you when she practically begged you to fuck her tonight.

“What was that?” You asked, free hand going to her cheek to drag the backs of your fingers down. “You had something to say, no?” She shook her head. “Good.” As a reward, your fingers began to slowly circle her clit, making her sigh a moan as her eyes fluttered shut. “So beautiful…” You kissed her cheek as your hand went to her chest, feeling her heart quicken as you held her down, stopping her from leaning up to kiss you. “My pretty girl.”

Her hands reached for your waist, attempting to pull you down so she could get her mouth on yours, but you refused to satisfy her.

Her eyes met yours, expression practically begging you to kiss her, but you only sped up the pace of your fingers to get her to keep moaning.

“I don’t wanna kiss you when you’re like this, baby,” you cooed when she tried to pull you down again. You knew she was just getting more submissive, which also meant more self conscious at times. “You sound too pretty.” You kissed the corner of her lips and she turned her head, but you instead moved your mouth to her neck as you ran your fingers down her slit, feeling her tighten around nothing. You hummed a laugh, gently circling your finger around her hole and making her shudder. “What do you want, baby?” She groaned, shaking her head and refusing to answer. “You want me here?” You pressed the tip of your finger into her, waiting for a response.

“Need you,” was her whimper of a response, making you immediately give her what she wanted— no, needed.

She moaned, hips bucking up and pushing your finger deeper inside her.

If there was one thing you loved about sex with Ellie, it was that no matter how mouthy she started out; cursing, teasing, or flat out mocking you, she always ended up hardly able to speak, whining and moaning as she used her hands to grip, push, and pull at you to try and communicate what she wanted.

You easily fit two more fingers inside her, stretching her cunt and making her grip your arm as she moaned.

It wasn’t long before she was unraveling beneath you. You’d brought your mouth down to her dripping pussy when she finally got the courage to ask you. All you had to do was suck her clit into your mouth and she was cumming all over your fingers. You froze, eyes wide as she did the same after clasping her hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d done after she came down from her high.

“Fuck.” She sat up quickly. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” You looked up at her with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, her chest red and heaving. Her skin was clammy, face pink, lips swollen and red, and eyes so dark from dilated pupils that you’d think she was on something.

You pulled your fingers from her, her breath hitching as you looked down at your hand covered in her orgasm. You were still slightly stunned as you wiped your mouth with your other hand, sucking your finger to taste her.

“Keep going if you want to, I— Mm…” You cut her off with your fingers in her mouth, forcing her arousal down her throat and making her moan as she met your eyes.

“You wanna keep going?” She nodded as she took your hand, diligently cleaning your fingers and swallowing down her own orgasm. You grinned, watching as she set your hand aside. She wasn’t sure what to do until you leaned in, pecking her lips. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you laughed out against her lips. “Fuck, I wish I could do it again.” You spoke between kisses, pecking her mouth eagerly as you laid her back down. “Made me so fucking wet, oh my God,” you kept going, making her laugh as she tried to keep up with your enthusiastic kisses.

“Can I help?” She asked eagerly, still flustered and pulling away from your kisses to run her hands up and down the curve of your waist. “I’ll do good…” She trailed off as her eyes fell to your breasts and then between your thighs. “So fucking good.”

You hummed, nodding along to her mumbling with a laugh. “Lie down.” She frowned. “Just trust me. Lie down.” She did as told, lying back on the pillows.

You moved from between her thighs, moving up to her head and looking down at her. She could hardly contain her excitement, hands reaching for you as you swung your leg over her face.

Her hands immediately gripped your thighs, pulling you down on her face and practically suffocating herself as her tongue licked up your folds.

You couldn’t get a word out before she was making you moan with every breath, her tongue rubbing roughly against your clit and prodding at your entrance each time she lapped up your juices. Her grip on your thighs was so strong it was bruising you, but it only aided in your pleasure as she indulged herself in you.

“Fuck, Ellie,” you moaned as you brought your hands to her hair, gripping it harshly and making her moan against you. Your hips rose and she immediately pulled you back down, working her tongue even harder and making you whine as your stomach fluttered.

Ellie knew you liked to be taken care of, she knew how turned on you got, and she knew you melted in her touch as soon as you made her cum, becoming a whiny, soaking mess the minute you could relax from the dominating position you took and let yourself be pleasured.

And once she finished, she was completely done being submissive, taking on a caring role and tending to your needs… Over, and over, and over again until the night ended with you being the submissive one.

You didn’t mind, nor did you care. Not when she was so rapt in you that she’d completely forgotten about what happened before you got in bed.

Ellie’s only focus, now that you’d done what she needed and wiped her brain of earlier, was you. She knew you crumbled when she touched you, so she used that to her advantage.

She’d fuck you all night long if she needed wanted to.

When you came on her tongue, she didn’t bother stopping. She pulled you forward, turning to the side and forcing you to lie on your back as she moved to kneel between your legs, not once bringing her mouth away from your cunt as she held your thighs in place.

You whined, moans loud and crying as you pushed her head away. She grabbed your hands, interlacing your fingers and continuing with her ministrations on your cunt.

“Ellie, Ellie, please…” Her name was a chant falling from your lips as you begged. What for? You didn’t even know. You didn’t want her to stop; it felt too good, but you were also so overstimulated that you couldn’t control your hips squirming.

Orgasm after orgasm raked over your body as the hours passed, your body becoming putty in Ellie’s hands as your eyes rolled back and muscles twitched in pleasure.

She finally pulled back when your moans were quiet and legs shaking, breathing heavy as she licked her lips. Her eyes were locked on your swollen, red cunt, still dark with lust as she forced herself to leave you alone.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she looked up at you, breaths panting, skin flushed, and pupils blown wide. “You’re so fucking pretty… I want—“

“No more,” you forced out in a breath as she lied her head on your inner thigh, stroking your hot skin with her hands.

She pouted, turning her head to kiss your thigh. “Please?”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us ellie #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x f! reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou x reader

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somekindofpoet · 11 months

Text

Missed Connection 5

Summary: A flight delay causes a chance meeting between R and Jenna Ortega

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I present to you, the next chapter. It's a short one, but the next one will make up for it, I promise

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“A public boat ride, Jen? Seriously?”

Jenna’s publicist Sam, is at her desk, rubbing her eyes and trying not to pull her hair out. Jenna is trying to look apologetic, sitting in the armchair across from her.

“For what it’s worth, the whales were pretty amazing. And I think I underestimated the zoom on cameras. Did you know they can shoot from that far?” Jenna grimaces, hearing her own words, picking at her nails and shrugging.

“Yes, I do know that. It’s my job.”

Jenna winces, shrinking into her chair, “Sam, I know you hate me right now, but I really like this girl.”

She sighs, drops her hands to her desk, “I don’t hate you. You do make my life more difficult than my other clients.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“But, we can spin this any way you want. Are we comfortable with coming out right about your relationship?”

Jenna looks at her hands and spins the ring on her index finger, “We haven’t really defined the relationship.”

Sam closes her eyes and takes a deep breath through her nose, “Jenna, please make my life easy and define it. Also, her background check should be done today, so before you make any decisions let’s see that first. Can you do that for me?”

Jenna nods, feeling a bit like a child being scolded by the principal. She did feel guilty about giving Sam hell the last few weeks, but she was just enamored with you. She is aware her feelings are leading her to questionable decision-making.

“Define the relationship. Got it,” Jenna stands and rounds her chair, hustling out of the office before Sam can place higher demands.

“Don’t forget about the background check! I’m serious, J!”

——

“Okay, so, you’re freaking out,” Dani says, her feet curled under her on your couch.

She looks relaxed and comfortable with her glass of wine while you, on the other hand, are pacing, pulling your hair out.

“Dani, we kissed in public. Her PR team is going to have my head. And speaking of that-“

Dani puts her hands up, “Woah, slow down. Have you heard from her today?”

You wave your hand toward your phone, your shoulders creeping toward your ears as the tension in your body rises, “Yeah, she’s texting me right now. She just got out of a meeting with her agent.”

“And?” Dani asks, sipping her wine and eyeing you.

“She said it went okay. Sam is irritated about the boat ride, but Jenna says not to worry about it.”

“And yet,” Dani says with a teasing smile.

You throw your hands up, “And yet, I am worried.”

“Dude, sit down. Drink your wine. I still don’t understand why you’re freaking out.”

You flop onto the couch in defeat, dropping your head back against the cushion.

“So…” you hesitate, “there’s a thing.”

Dani raises an eyebrow, “How enlightening.”

You huff, roll your eyes, “Jenna told me they need to do a background check, and…well…there’s a reason I changed to nature photography.”

“You mean besides your love for the wilds?” Dani smirks, teasing you.

“I’m serious, Dani. It’s kind of bad. And she’s going to find out about it, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, let's hear it. What did you do?”

——

“An assault charge?” Jenna frowns back in Sam’s office a few hours later, looking at the folder in her lap.

Sam stands from her chair and rounds the desk, leaning back into it. She tilts her head, her mouth downturned in commiseration.

“There’s not a lot of detail about what happened, but yes. She’s got an assault charge on her record.”

Jenna’s stomach is in knots, looking at your mugshot. Her voice is quiet and small when she speaks again, “Why didn’t she tell me?”

Sam sighs, shrugs, “I don’t think I’d want to tell a date about it either, hon. But it doesn’t look great.”

Jenna runs her fingertips over the paper, trying desperately to understand. You look exhausted in the photo, with dark bags under your eyes and your cheeks hollow. She’s conflicted, not understanding how the girl she kissed in New York could possibly have assaulted someone. But the proof is there, in her lap.

Her eyes are wide and worried when she looks back at Sam, “What do I do?”

——-

“The only way to deal with this is to get ahead of it,” now Dani is the one pacing while you sit on your couch.

“It’s too late, Dani. Fuck I’ve royally fucked this up.”

“She’ll understand. If she’s anything like the person you’ve described to me, I’m sure she’ll understand. You just need to explain it to her.”

You drop your head into your hands, feeling absolutely hopeless. You knew this would come to light eventually, but you thought you’d have more time. You thought you’d be able to break the news gently, to frame the story so Jenna didn’t get the wrong picture. But you waited too long, and now you’re sure she’s looking down at your mugshot in disgust.

You want to crawl into a hole, burrow into a soft, quiet grave, and never resurface.

“Hey,” Dani’s hand is light on your shoulder, her face pulled in worry, “it’s going to be okay. You just really need to talk to her.”

“I don’t know if I can face her right now,” you mumble in between your fingers.

“Listen, I’m going to give you to the bottom of this bottle to feel sorry for yourself. And then we’re going to put on our big girl pants and fix this situation.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Cross that bridge when we get to it. You have to try, at least. Text her right now.”

You lift your head, turn toward her. You know she’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. Wallowing isn’t going to save this scenario, and hiding surely isn’t going to help anything. Even if it’s the only thing you want to do.

“What if I do it tomorrow?”

“No,” Dani shakes her head, her blonde hair whipping with the force of it, “Right now. I’m not leaving until you text her.”

You sigh, pick up your phone, “Fine. Fine. But if she ghosts me, I think I’ll just pack up and go live out my days in Greenland with a Musk Ox colony.”

Dani pats your back, “I mean, if that’s what you want, then I’ll support you. But like, from afar because that sounds truly horrifying.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

——

Your text comes through when Jenna is at home. The folder with your mugshot is open on her island countertop. She opens the phone, reads the text.

Y/N

Can we talk? If Sam checked me out, then I know what you’re looking at. All I’m asking is that you let me explain.

She sighs, looking back at the folder. The black printed ‘ASSAULT’ screaming at her. But she has to know why. She owes you the opportunity to explain yourself. The bubbles under your text pop up again, your impatience getting the better of you.

Y/N

Here’s my address. I’ll be here all night. I know it looks bad, but I promise I can explain.

———

You wait. And wait. And wait. Jenna never texts you back. Dani leaves you to your own devices after another hour, assuring you everything is going to be okay.

You’re catatonic, lying on your couch, waiting for the void to swallow you up. You don’t blame Jenna for being wary. You’re angry with yourself for not telling her about it. You’re angry with yourself that it happened in the first place.

You’ve given up hope that you’d get a response around 10, so when your doorbell rings at 11, you nearly fall off your couch in surprise. It couldn’t be Jenna. It’s far too late for her to be out running around in LA. You wonder if it’s a lost DoorDasher as you walk to your door. You don’t even bother to check yourself in the mirror, knowing full well you look rough.

You open the door, and your eyes travel down, squinting in the dark. Your heart nearly leaps from your throat when you see her. Jenna is there in denim shorts and an oversized hoodie, the hood pulled over her hair.

She’s chewing on her lip, shifting from side to side, and wringing her hands.

“You came,” you say, your voice cracking.

“I came,” she says, her voice soft.

You step to the side and let her in, closing the door behind her. You show her to the living room, invite her to sit. She looks unsure, nervous. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You ask, hovering at the side of the couch.

She shakes her head, no, so you sit next to her, your heart racing. She leans into you a little, and it makes you feel warm. Calmer. She gazes at you, her eyes searching your face. You know what she’s looking for. She’s trying to figure out how you’re capable of doing what you did. What the switch that flipped was.

“Thank you for coming,” you say, fighting the urge to reach for her.

“I just really don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, Y/N.” Her brows furrow over her eyes, her lips tight.

You run your shaking fingers through your hair, trying to figure out where to start.

“I was going to. I planned on it. I just, didn’t know how.”

She nods, glances past you at your porch, “Can I smoke?”

You turn to the porch, then back to her. She looks stressed, tired.

You stand, “Of course. We can talk outside.”

You settle in at the small two-person table, push an ashtray over to her. She lights a cigarette, and you catch the slightest tremble of her hand.

“Okay, I’m just going to rip this band-aid off, and if you hate me, or don’t want to see me again and you have to leave, I understand. But I really hope you stay.”

She takes a drag, nodding, becoming visibly more relaxed. You half want to ask for a cigarette yourself, but you need to get this explanation out before you lose the small spark of bravery that’s steadily fading in your chest.

You take a deep breath, nod, “Okay. So you know I’m a nature photographer now, but that’s not always what I’ve wanted to do.”

Her eyes are wide, her body leaning into the table, her full attention on you. You gulp at the intensity of it.

“I’ve done a lot of work in Hollywood, when I was first getting started. I’ve dealt with paparazzi for so long it’s ridiculous. So a few years ago, I was doing this shoot with an actress, and she was just kind of breaking out, so they followed her everywhere.”

Now you’re the one wringing your hands, your bravery withering under Jenna’s stare. She nods, silently encouraging you to go on.

“It had been a hassle all day, trying to get her in and out of the building. There was this one guy, he was way too aggressive. Her body guards weren’t the best, the fame boom was still new. So I was trying to help her leave the building, one of the paps got around the guard and grabbed her.”

Jenna frowns, blinking quickly and blowing smoke from the side of her mouth. You rush into the story, wanting to get the words about as fast as you can.

“It was too much. I was fed up. I’ve been watching these guys for years, and some of the stuff they do is just disgusting. I know I don’t have to tell you that, but I’d had enough. He grabbed her, and I just saw red.”

“What did you do?” Jenna asks, her voice quiet.

“I hit him. He wouldn’t let go of her, so I hit him. I got a little carried away and broke his camera. He pressed charges and naturally refused to drop them. The judge took pity on me, given the circumstance, and just had me pay a fine. But I got slapped with the assault charge and decided I was done with Hollywood.”

Jenna is quiet, her cigarette nothing but ash and filter now. Her face is unreadable as she stares at you. You begin to fidget, waiting for her to respond. Every muscle in your body is wound so tight you’re afraid you might break.

She calmly stubs out the smoldering cigarette filter, stands, and you’re sure she’s going to walk out of your door and never look back. You wouldn’t blame her if she did. Once again, you’re dead wrong.

She moves around the table, stands over you, looking down at you for a painfully long moment. Then she places both hands around your face and kisses you with a fever you hadn’t expected. She tastes like smoke and wintergreen, her hands like embers around your jaw.

Your hands find her hips, and you pull her in, stretching up to meet her lips. You’re slightly confused, but that is wiped clean from your mind when she runs her tongue across your bottom lip, her hands sliding back into the hair at the nape of your neck, her nails lightly scratching at your skin. You whimper at the pure relief you feel and at the burning in your stomach.

She pulls back, standing upright again, “You should have hit him harder.”

Your jaw drops, and she smiles down at you. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck and sits sideways in your lap.

“You could have told me, you know,” her lips are so close to yours, her eyes soft.

“I would have, eventually. It just wasn’t my finest moment, and I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of bar fighting idiot.”

She laughs, and it makes you feel like you’re falling through lightheaded oblivion.

“You are going to make Sam’s life very difficult.”

You scoff, “She’s your publicist!”

She chuckles, “And now the world will know I’m not as sweet and innocent as they want me to be.”

Your stomach flips at her words, catching her meaning, “And why is that?”

She raises her eyebrows, smiling down at you, “Because I’m dating the photographer who fucked up a pap, and I’m pretty proud of her for it.”

You don’t have any words to banter back with, so you settle with kissing her again. Your hands grow bold, wandering up her leg, over her hip, around her ribs.

“Wait, dating now, huh?” you say, pulling back and trying not to smile as she leans forward into you.

She shrugs, her eyes low-lidded, “They want us to define the relationship.”

You swallow, nearly choking on her straightforward attitude, “What would the definition be?”

She snorts, leaning forward to speak into your lips, “Let’s find out.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

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