#and now thinking about it is like. impossible
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𝝑𝝔 an: i had 2 requests about babysitting yuuji and they were similar so i did the earlier one i hope its alright. read more!!
“hey, loser, what’s up?”
you smile at the sound of sukuna’s voice, “jus’ reading. what about you?”
you sense him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line at the mention of yet another book you’ve been gushing about.
“‘m still with the old man.” he grumbles, referring to his father, but his tone changes to a more serious one, making you worry, “look, there’s somethin’ i wanna ask you.”
“anything for you, ‘kuna.”
“could you watch yuuji for a couple of hours? jin’s been called from work and i can’t leave the old man alone right now, so…”
“of course! i adore yuuji, y’know that.”
he sighs in relief and chuckles, his fondness seeping through the line, “aren’t you the sweetest little thing? i’ll see you later then.”
“bye, ‘kuna!”
you close your book after bookmarking the page and jump from your bed to prepare and run to sukuna’s place, excited to spend time with his nephew.
jin’s relief when you appear in his doorway, a little out of breath but with a bright beam that matches yuuji’s nonetheless. he quickly gives you a list of things you should remember when watching over the little guy and presses a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads, leaving you a bit flustered and yuuji very happy.
you find it that 5-year old yuuji isn’t that to look after.
he is such a sweet boy; leading you through the house with his chubby fingers snugly wrapped around yours, giving you his big big smile that outshines everyone’s despite missing tooth on the front. he absolutely adores the way you treat him like he and you are on the same level, avoiding hurting him if gets even a little capricious and responding with the same energy he gives off.
yuuji loves to talk a lot, not shying away from anything that comes to his mind, still an unfiltered, naturally unlike his more balanced father and his barely approachable uncle. it’s impossible to be annoyed with him, his innocence and genuine interest in every little thing is so sweet you can’t help the fondness oozing through every word you say to him.
such a helpful boy too; even though he makes a face at the vegetables you put on his plate(jin emphasised on feeding it to him any possible way)he still eats them, distracted by your silly antics. he helps you with the dishes, clumsily drying the plates with his head barely even peeking over the counter. picking up the toys he plays with right after and putting them back in their places. and you can tell that jin, although alone, still does a pretty good job of raising the sweetest boy out of him, which warms your heart.
ruffling the pink tufts of hair on his head, pinching his cheeks lovingly, holding him close as he himself initiates physical contact, always eager to be in your space and accept and give love. throughout the rest of the day you clearly understand that just like falling in love with sukuna it’s just as easy to love little itadori yuuji and you find yourself easily giving in to his charming nature, feeling closer to him and his family than ever before.
when it’s time to go to sleep, he whines a little bit about not being sleepy to which you make a point of reminding him jin’s words(“if you behave extra good today i’ll give you a present, ‘kay?”). he just salutes with the wrong hand and tugs you to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
nestled in the comfort of his bed, with you sitting on your knees by its side, yuuji initiates another conversation, albeit his yawns keep interrupting his minds’ flow.
“d’you think i’ll be like dad and uncle when i grow up?”
your brows raise at the sudden seriousness in the little boy’s tone, “do you wanna be like them, yuuji?”
“of course! they are the coolest!”
you smile at him fondly, stroking the side of his face soothingly, to help him fall asleep faster, “you’ll be even cooler.”
he flashes you his toothless grin once again and closes his eyes.
“night night, yuuji.”
he mumbles something in response and dozes off, clutching his blanket. you kiss his forehead and try to contain another yawn, not even noticing the sleep catching up to you too as you continue gazing at him, lids falling closed a few seconds after.
the silence greeting them while they enter the house makes sukuna frown. jin is still not home, shoes absent from their usual spot, but you’re still there and he can’t help the excitement building up inside of him because he missed you.
he calls your name, yuuji, walking further in, yet still no response. throwing his things on the table in the guest room, sukuna can’t help but observe that his surroundings are neatly cleaned, even more than before. he looks around in the kitchen, knocks in the bathroom, inspects the living room — still no answer. so he decides to check yuuji’s room, maybe you’re playing or something and too distracted to hear him.
the sight that greets him is something new though, stealing the air all the way from his chest as his eyes widen. he slowly steps closer, hissing silently at the annoying squeaky floorboards, and crouches before you. you seem very very uncomfortable in that position, yet the way yuuji’s body is facing yours makes it clear that you were just waiting for the boy to fall asleep and joined him unintentionally. so cute, so warm it melts away the leftover iceberg that is his heart.
his hand caresses your cheek gently before poking it repeatedly, making you stir in your sleep.
“huh? ’kuna?”
he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as he lifts you up, “was the little shit good to you?”
“yuuji? he was the sweetest.” you blink at him sleepily, nuzzling deeper into his chest. sukuna can’t help the soft smile that stretches on his lips.
“thank you for the help, baby.”
“anytime, ‘kuna.”
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna x you#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna fluff
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Do you have any headcanons about dick and Jason being each others favorite brothers👀
Love your blog!!
Dick's favorite is Jason because Jason knows everything Dick did as a teenager which Dick wants to keep under wraps
Jason's favorite is Dick because did anyone else try to kill the Joker for him? Exactly. But good luck getting him to admit it
Dick is convinced Jason came back wrong because no fuckin way his LITTLE brother is TALLER than him
Pre-reveal, Dick loathed Red Hood with every fiber because all he could think about was how this guy had the audacity to use his brother's killer's old moniker
Jason did the Pen 15 thing with Sharpie and Dick actually fell for it
Dick stole Roy's hoodie back in their Titans days, which Jason stole from Dick, and now they go back and forth stealing it from each other while Roy's like "can I have it back now"
Jason matched with one of Dick's coworkers on a dating app. They met for lunch. At the workplace's cafeteria
Dick redesigned his squad car after he stopped being a cop and Jason secretly installed a fridge in the glove compartment. Cut to a week later when Jason pulls out a whole pizza on the highway
Jason does DoorDash occasionally and one time he delivered tacos to an abandoned warehouse because Dick needed backup and the comms were down. Jason didn't help fight, but instead just stood here until he got his tip
Texting Jason is impossible because he'll reply a month later just to correct Dick's grammar
They screenshot the funniest mean comments on their posts and meet up once a month to read them over a bonfire with drinks
Jason will finish patrol, drive all the way to Bludhaven, and climb through Dick's window just to put his wet socks on the radiator and make himself a PB&J. Dick will just be like "ugh whatever" and pretend to watch TV while secretly checking to make sure Jason isn't injured
They trick the other siblings into thinking there's a Robin test that only Dick and Jason have passed
Jason stained Dick's carpet with gunpowder so as revenge, Dick hid an alarm clock in Jason's safehouse
Dick accidentally stumbled across Jason's Ao3 but when he tried to use it as blackmail Jason's just like, "Girl what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament?"
#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#batman#batfamily#batfam#batboys#batbros#batkids#batsiblings#batman family#dc comics#headcanon#do not tag as ship#tw angst#tw death mention
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𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.
𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐁𝐒𝐅! 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐛𝐬𝐟
prompt by this request: "chris getting jealous bc his bsf seems flirty with matt so he confesses his feelings and it ends with smuttttt”
contains: HELLA SMUTTT, Chris confessing his feelings, mad jealous Chris, dom!chris, suggestive, “flirting” w Matt??, Chris and yours first kiss, choking, spanking, degrading names (slut, whore yktv), MUCH dumification, use of pet names (mama, baby, sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl ), stomach bulge!, flashbacks of Chris fantasizing about you, overstimulation, cream pie, squirting, Chris having a massive cock obviously, missionary, slight m!oral, aftercare as always!! Heavy ( bath tg, praising, concerned!chris reassurance
a/n- this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is
For years, since we were kids. I’ve always had a huge crush on my bestfriend.
I couldn’t get over her no matter how hard I tried and it grew more and more especially since she lives in LA now and we see her almost everyday.
It got worse. So bad. I needed her
I remember seeing her in an orange bikini complimenting her gorgeous features. The way the bottoms hugged her curves making her ass pop out was enough to make me finish in my pants.
She was gorgeous, I wanted to have her badly but it was Nearly impossible fo get her alone.
Especially with Matt around. It pissed me off when I’d see them laughing together or making tiktoks.
That’s my girl
I remember sitting in my room scrolling on instagram when I got the notification she posted on her story
Fuck she looked so good.
the way the grey shorts hugged her ass just how I liked, she looked so gorgeous too.
I, unintentionally started palming myself through my sweats.
I couldn’t help it she had such an affect on me.
I pulled my sweats down revealing my boxers with a wet spot where my tip was.
“Shit”. I groan pulling them down fully as my dick slapped against my stomach begging to be touched, wishing it was her hand and not mine.
I began to stroke myself with shaky hands imagining it was her lips wrapped around me and I throw my head back against the pillows as my mind wandered
She was irresistible, I had to have her.
We always had a flirty thing going on and I didn’t think it would get this far.
Until…
Today was on of those days where I was in the kitchen leaning on the counter drinking a Pepsi pretending to watch TV as I listen to her faint giggles as her and my fucking brother watched TV.
I felt my hand tighten around the can as I saw how close they were, knowing he didn’t like her but I didn’t care. I wanted her all too myself.
I sighed throwing my can out coming up with an idea to figure out a way to get her for me.
Matt and nick going to get food.
“hey Matt, wanna go get some food? Y/n likes this Chinese place it’s about an hour away, nick prob wants to go”. I say smiling with a cocky grin and he rolls his eyes.
“Okay fine I’ll be back in like 4 fucking hours nick let’s go!”. Matt tells and Nick comes downstairs.
“Y/n, you’re so lucky we love you”. Nick says sarcastically and they walk out the house but fuck something about the way Matt looked at her before he left just made me more pissed off.
“Chris?”. I stand up adjusting my shorts as the grey material rolled up my ass and my tank top hugged around my tits the watching Chris’s eyes wander.
“What the fuck are you trying to do to me”. Chris mutters into my ear, his hand wrapping around my neck and my breath hitches.
“W-what are you talking about?”. I shudder as his blue eyes pour into mine with an unhappy expression giving me a pity laugh.
“Flirting with my brother in front of me? Seriously?! Is it not obvious how much I want you?”. Chris confessed his nose touching mine making me gulp, my thighs closing together accidentally.
There was no doubt Chris was attractive but hell if I knew he liked me shit I’d probably let him fuck me or something.
“You? Want me?” I said slightly confused and utterly shocked and he takes a deep breath.
“you have no fucking idea how much I want you, and I have no problem showing him that your my girl”. Chris gave me a sly smile picking me up by my ass carrying me downstairs to his room.
“C-Chris wait-“. I was cut off by him kissing me and I melt into his touch. His hands grip my ass tighter making me gasp, his tongue massaging mine as I moan into the kiss.
“Strip”. He demands standing me up and I tilt my head. And he gives me those eyes and immediately comply beginning to peal of my clothes leaving me in a matching set of orange. Chris’s favourite colour.
“Fuck ma you look so pretty..all for me right?” He asks his hands playing with my bra strap making my panties dampen.
“Yes Chris- all for you”. I match his gaze and he smirked pushing me on the bed as I scooted back leaving him room to climb above me.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you”. Chris leaves a soft kiss to my cheek practically ripping my panties off me and I squirm.
“Chris! I liked those!”. I whine and he rolls his eyes pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement and his thick, and painfully hard cock springs out hitting his stomach and my heart beat picks up
how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside me?
Chris took in my nervous expression and let out a soft laugh placing his hands on my thighs
“Spread ur legs for me”. He taps my legs and I spread them apart revealing my wet pussy, the arousal glistening on my inner thighs.
he runs a finger along my slit and I jolt slightly at the sudden sensation.
“shit- ur so wet, did i make you like this? Or was it my brother”. Chris asked tilting his head, his jawn clenched ans my breath hitched as he continued moving his finger.
“No answer? Guess I’ll fuck the answer out of you”. Chris pressed my legs against my chest before slamming his cock deep inside me, stretching me out painfully I almost couldn’t take it.
“f-fuck Chris! T-too much!”. I stutter trying to push his hand away but he quickly slaps it away, using my legs as leverage to begin pounding my inside me.
Chris didn’t give me time to adjust to his large size, tears already forming on my eyes from the pleasure.
“shit- your pussy feels so good, better than I’ve imagined”. He let out a deep groan watching how my pussy sucked him in, Chris’s hips driving into mine as I squint my eyes shut.
“Already becoming a mess on my cock? Should’ve kept matt here so he could see how much of slut you are for me”. Chris grips my neck angling his hips to thrust deeper and I squeal, my eyes meeting with his blues, an electric feeling shooting through me.
He wouldn’t let up his pace, his cock plunging into my tight hole as the pain turned to pleasure thankfully as my cunt morphed to fit his dick.
And Chris was fucking right, I was a slut for him and I has tried to hide it this whole time by being innocent and flirtatious with his brother but the second I was underneath him, I was begging for him to touch me
“Oh shitt- d-don’t stop- fuck”. I throw my head back on the soft pillows, moaning curses breathlessly, my tits bouncing with his quick and hard movements, bound to leave bruises between my thighs burning with sensation.
“mmph fuck- wasn’t planning on it pretty girl”. He moaned, completely infatuated with how I wrapped around him perfectly, like I was made for him. And shit- was he made for me.
She felt so good, almost as if her pussy and every thing about her was made for me.
I couldn’t get enough of her, the Moans and squeaks of my name leaving her swollen lips could’ve made me cum on the spot.
the way she could barley form a sentence as I fucked her, and I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet.
I was going to make sure she knew that she was mine, my fucking girl.
“Chris-you feel so good”. She moaned my name again, turning me on much more than it should’ve, the way her eyes barely opened, and how she’d bite her and stare at me grasping her breasts.
“yeah? you like when I fuck you dumb like this? Can’t even get a word out?”. I taunt, I gripped her neck tighter, her legs finding their way up on my shoulders crying out my name like it’s the only one she knew.
I couldn’t even answer, the things he were asking me required my full attention and shit- I was so far gone.
“I suggest you answer me ma because your about to to cum”. Chris presses his chest on mine, our noses touching as he breathed heavily into my mouth while I reciprocated the same action.
“mm-m I-fuck I-i love it”. I shudder on each word, praying he heard me because I really could not talk right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and he chuckled seeing how speechless he fucked.
“God I could listen to you like this all day”. Chris grunted into my ear as I felt the stomach coil I had began to burst unexpectedly from the overwhelming pleasure.
Chris made me squirt
“S-shit! I’m sorry I-“. I shook as the fluids made a mess over his lower stomach but gasping as he didn’t slow down.
“Never apologize that was hot as fuck- got one more in you?”. He pants resting his head on my shoulder quickening his pace and I whimper gripping his back.
“Oh god Chris- I-I can’t”. My nails run down his back making marks and he bites his bottom lip as I pulled him closer.
His hips pushing into mine, as my juices had coated his cock, leaking out of me creating a wet sensation of our sex.
“You can take it baby, being such a good girl, fuck just one more”. He let out a shaky moan throwing a my leg around his waist and I let out a loud moan at the angle Chris’s cock hit, brushing my g-spot.
“C-Chris ur so deep-“. I let out pornographic sounds and he gave me a deep kiss before pressing his hand where his dick was poking through.
his hand pressed down on the bulge in my stomach and I felt the tears run down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.
“that’s all me baby- fuck I love ur pussy so much-“. He stutters throwing his head as hair sticks to his forehead, the sight was more than appealing.
His slightly parted lips producing whimpers, curses and moans of my name. The way he squeezed my hips making sure I could feel every thick inch of him and the sweat coating over his body.
Her lips parted releasing pants and moans of my name and the occasional “fuck”, her hair now sweated out with hickeys along her neck and tits reminding her that she was mine now. The way her nails would grip my back drawing marks that showed how much she enjoyed it.
“Oh shit- ma- can I cum inside you? M’need you so bad-“. He moans into my neck and I shiver and chant yes’s.
Chris released his seed inside me triggering a second hard orgasm for me, creaming his dick as my body shook.
I turned my head to lay on the pillow before he could catch a glimpse of me, slowly sliding his cock out of me.
He took one look at me and his eyes immediately shifted to one of concern
“wait wait shit- did I hurt you?”. Chris started, seeing how my legs shook from the orgasm I just had.
“please talk to me”. He cupped my cheeks and I gave him a soft smile.
“I’m fine Chris that was- shit- the best sex I’ve ever had”. I let out a quiet sigh and a smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled me into a bridal style hold.
“Well come on let’s get you cleaned up, I wanna spend time with my girl”. He giggled like a child and I rolled my eyes as he carried me into the bathroom running a warm bath for both of us
“No seriously tho your okay?”. He said softly rubbing my shoulders as we soaked in the warm tub.
“Chris the way you put that dick on me I’m more than ok”. I kissed his cheek and his cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned back against the tub whilst I’m in his arms.
She’s really my girl.
@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vanteguccir @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris
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JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA
how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them
including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki
word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)
cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh
a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!
GOJO
Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.
None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.
You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.
“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.
“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”
He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.
He doesn’t.
“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.
He pouts at you, inches away from your face.
“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”
“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.
“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”
You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.
“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”
He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”
“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.
He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.
Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.
NANAMI
Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.
That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.
“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.
“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.
“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.
“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”
You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.
“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”
He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.
“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”
And you know he means it, too.
Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.
Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.
“Kento?”
He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.
It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.
“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”
How much more merciless can you get?
“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”
There is nothing he can deny you.
CHOSO
Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.
Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.
“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”
“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”
You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.
“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”
Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.
“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.
“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?
“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.
Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.
“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.
“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”
He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.
“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.
“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.
You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.
YUUJI
The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.
If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.
No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.
“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”
You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.
Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.
“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.
“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.
“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”
“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”
The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.
When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.
“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.
“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.
“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”
You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.
“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.
“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”
“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”
You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.
MEGUMI
Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.
Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.
It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.
“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”
You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.
“What was it?” you ask.
“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”
You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.
“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”
“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”
The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.
“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.
“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.
He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.
To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.
“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.
Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.
“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”
“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”
“Right,” he says stiffly.
Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.
“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.
Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.
“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.
He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.
“Liar,” he says.
As if he’s one to talk.
MAKI
Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.
It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.
It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.
“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.
“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”
Worry flashes on her face immediately.
“A curse? Were you hurt?”
She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.
You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.
“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”
She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.
“I’m buying? Again?”
“I did almost just die.”
“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”
“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”
“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”
The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.
It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.
You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.
The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.
this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^
you can find my gojo x reader work here
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#choso x reader#choso fluff#choso kamo#choso#yuuji itadori x reader#yuuji x reader#yuji x reader#yuuji fluff#itadori fluff#megumi x reader#megumi fluff#nanami x reader#nanami fluff#maki x reader#maki fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#nanami kento x reader#maki zenin x reader#jjk imagine#jjk drabbles#my writing
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Um I don't know if anyone's requested this yet but uh.... The Ghoul x Reader cockwarming? 😳 Maybe she's being punished and has to sit in his lap... And we all know how patient Cooper can be.
oooh omg yes!! 👀💖 I couldn’t stop thinking about this!!
— he’s a demon, he’s a devil
cooper howard | the ghoul x f!reader
rated e | 900 words
tags: power dynamics, cock warming, begging, mirrors, punishment, references to rough piv & overstim
“Stop your squirmin’.”
Cooper’s voice is harsh - a hot fan of breath in your ear, as his fingers tighten against your hips, “Supposed to be your punishment, for running off like that.”
Too curious, too foolhardy. You hadn’t meant to leave his sight, but the pull of the empty house and the possibility of food inside had been too great.
He had been furious with you - bared teeth and snarling when you’d nearly upset a nest of radscorpions.
“Teach you a little somethin’ about patience.”
Teeth nip at your neck, then - a reminder to pay attention to what he’s telling you. Knowing that your mind is currently more occupied with much more pressing matters.
Like how he has your thighs spread wide, hooked over is. Unmoving for some unknown amount of time now - you’re not sure if it’s been minutes, or if time has been creeping closer to an hour.
It’s almost as if time has no meaning for him. As if it stopped ticking a long time ago.
Content to keep you here, just like this.
But all you can think about is the thick stretch of him inside you. Stuffing you to the brim while three fingers tuck against possessively against your cunt.
Two split to frame, the middle pressed right up against the tight, slick bud of your clit. Just enough pressure to keep you leaking around him, wound up.
Pinching, whenever you move. A silent warning.
You wonder if he can feel your pulse. The rapid racing of your heart, how it flutters behind your ribs. How much you need him.
The rough texture of his skin nudges against your walls each time you squirm - an effort to feel him move, just a little. Exactly what he was scolding you about now.
It’s not your fault. You’re not used to this.
Too used to him taking. Cruel thrusts that seem to carve you out from the inside, only so he can fill you himself.
Bruises that match the grip of his fingers, denting your skin. The too much of him giving you one, and then another, and the one more - just to hear the way you beg, only to turn around and sob with overstimulation.
This withholding - it is more torture than you can say.
Your toes curl inside your boots. Fingers pinching against your bare thighs, nails biting into your palms until they leave crescent-moon marks.
Trying to ignore the brush of his broad chest against your back as he breathes. The rough sound of it in your ear, making you shiver - resting the urge to clench down around him, because he will feel it and he will know.
Even trying to distract yourself brings no relief.
The room is plain - yellowed peeling wallpaper, a sun-bleached floor, broken furniture. The patterns all ones your eyes have already grown tired of tracing over.
Always going back to tipped-over vanity against the wall, the mirror spider-web cracked in its frame. It’s impossible not to look into it, at your angle.
To be drawn to it.
To the spread of his thighs reflected within, the lean stretch of his legs in the oversized chair. Fractures of where he splits you open. The broad cup of his weathered hand. The thick base of him, his sack beneath hanging full and shining with your slick, where it’s dripped down from your pussy.
Seven years bad luck, and right now it feels like you’re the one that broke it.
His fingers twitch and you can’t bite the soft moan back, as it slips from your throat. The slightest buck of your hips before the hand at your waist tightens. Pinning you firmly against him with a growled-out warning.
“Don’t make me start over.”
The thought of that has your heart plummeting, your words coming in a rush.
“No, I’ll be good. I’m sorry-” You beg, voice pitching up with your whine.
He clicks his tongue, and you swear you can almost feel him throb inside you.
“Are you, now? ‘m not so sure.” He rasps, “Can feel just how much your cunt wants to squeeze me. She’s aching’ for it’, ain’t she?”
A low drawl, as his fingers press slightly against you again in a cruel tease. Trying to coax you into moving again, though this time you try hard to stay still.
But you still can’t help the desperation that tinges your words, the syllable drawn-out.
“Please-”
The hum he makes is paired with a long sigh of mock-disappointment. As if this is torture, in any way, for him. As if he’s not getting off to it.
Just how needy you are for him. Testing the limits of your obedience.
“Maybe when I see some tears leakin’, sweetheart.” Cooper husks, his drawl making each word come out syrupy-slow. Sealing your fate.
“Then I’ll know you’ve learned somethin’.”
The ragged sound you make is pathetic.
Eyes flitting to the mirror again, and they meet his this time - a kaleidoscope of hazel in the cracked pieces of glass.
Where he’s been keeping an eye on you this whole time. Each greedy glance at where you’re joined, every shift of your hips.
Cooper hums, a rough sound of amusement, when he sees your expression. A silent answer with the tilt of his head, a sharp peek of teeth.
It tells you that you can whine all you want.
He has all fuckin’ day.
thank you so much for sending this in!! so perfect for him! 💖
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first mother’s day || matt sturniolo
summary: little blurb about celebrating your first Mother’s Day it’s Matt and your daughter
world count:
a/n: just a little part to the pregnancy series 🤭 since it’s mother’s day tomorrow. I didn’t prof read yet
🍒
I woke up because first of all I did not hear white noise from the camera monitor and also didn’t feel Matt’s presence next to me. I slept whole night and that was surprising because we came here and Noa was in the room next to us. We traveled to Boston to see Marylou.
I stretched in bed and opened my eyes. I looked at the monitor and Noa’s crib was empty so she must have woke up already. I looked at the clock and it was 10.
“What the fuck?” I stood up from the bed.
I usually was up like at 6 to feed her and get her ready for the day. I opened the doors and smell of bagels and coffee filled my nose.
I was wearing Matt’s tee and pajama pants and I grabbed my glasses before I left my room.
I went downstairs into the kitchen and I gasped.
“Happy First Mother’s Day baby!” Matt yelled at me and I was literally stunned.
“Happy Mother’s Day y/n!!!!” The rest of the family was also there.
There were flowers everywhere. Kitchen was filled with all my and their mom’s favorite food and snacks. There were gift bags and I looked at my little girl. She was all happy in her chair. She was wearing a dress and she had a little bow in her hair. He dressed her up so cute. She squinted when she saw me.
“What is this all? Oh my god guys… you didn’t have to… come here my beautiful baby” I picked her up and kissed her head few times.
“Well…I wanted to do something special for you” he kissed my head.
“Thank you guys…and Happy Mother’s Day” I looked at them and than Marylou and came to give her big hug.
“Oh honey it’s all about you today” She said giving me a big smile.
“Oh no if it wasn’t about you then I wouldn’t have all of this” I smiled and kissed Noa’a cheek.
“Look at you baby….dada picked up such a beautiful outfit for you” I said to my daughter.
“Well… it was Mom and actually she got that outfit from Justin” He said scratching his neck.
“Of course… Matt wouldn’t put her in all pink but uncle Justin got her” Justin smiled and I laughed.
“You’re so cheesy Justin” I said and Noa wanted to go to her grandma so I let Marylou take her.
“I slept till now it’s a miracle” I said to Matt.
“I was hoping you will…” He said and gave me a quick kiss.
We talked and have the breakfast all together as we watched Noa play with Trever on the floor. She was 9 months now and she was so independent already. I had tears in my eyes every time I thought about her growing so fast. I was such a mother.
“Okay so we let mom already open her presents but those are all for you” Matt said when I was sipping my juice sitting at the island when he was cleaning.
“Matt you literally didn’t have to get me anything I am happy we can be here and spend time as family” I said taking the bags.
“I need to make my baby momma happy” he said and I just made a face at him.
“Don’t ever say that” I laughed and opened the gifts.
One of them was a designer bag from Matt and matching shoes from Nick and Chris. Cards and charms to my bracelet from their parents. I also got spa day voucher from Justin.
“You all are impossible spending money on my like that! It’s… thank you” I said and just came and gave Matt a big hug.
“I love you so so so much thank you for making me a mom” I closed my eyes when my head rested on his chest.
“See… that’s a crazy thing to say as well” he said and I laughed.
“But I love you too… and it was all Noa don’t look at me” He hugged me tight to him.
“They all also said we should go out tonight and they will watch Noa for us” he smiled.
“Are you inviting me for a date?” I smiled back.
“Yes… it’s a date” he said.
“Let me think about it” I said just to fuck with him a little.
“I hate you” he said and i stand on my toes to kiss his lips.
He kissed me back and than I smiled even more. It was all perfect today.
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
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a/n: a little fic inspired by a convo @youunravelme and i had a couple of days ago! couldn’t stop thinking about this little idea and just had to write it ☺️ a little bit more lore in the squeaks’ verse added here and lots more to come! enjoy!!
tw: a little innuendo, domestic fluff
word count: 4.3k
summary: it’s talia’s first day of kindergarten and neither you nor mat is handling it particularly well
mat and t’s first day of kindergarten
You lean forward on the counter and smile at Talia, who’s looking at you skeptically. “How about we pick some snacks for your lunch tomorrow?” You ask chirpily.
“How about no?” Talia looks back at you with wide hazel eyes and a nervous tilt to her lips. Her fingers twist together and she kicks the heels of her feet against the legs of the stool she’s sitting on.
“You’re going to be hungry if we don’t pack any snacks,” you reply reasonably, unzipping the brand new Disney Princess lunchbox you’d picked up a few weeks ago at Target. The rush of back to school shopping, even if it wasn’t for you, was a high like nothing else. You’d gone slightly overboard on the supplies and in a burst of excitement, had bought yourself a new planner and half a dozen packs of various styles of pen. You can’t help but get excited about stationary.
“If I was home I wouldn’t be hungry and I could have snacks whenever I want,” Talia points out, tugging at the end of her dark braid. She twists her fingers in the hair below the tie and you reach over the counter to gently untangle her fingers.
You prop your chin on your palm and nod. “You could. But you’re not going to be home. It’s your first day of kindergarten and you’re going to have so many new experiences,” your tone is infused with excitement and you’re relieved to see that the nervousness in Talia’s expression fades a little. Her mouth twists to the side, eyebrows drawing together over her nose.
“Am I gonna see Tulsa?” She asks, hopeful.
“Tulsa’s in the next school, remember, baby?” You reply carefully, hating to burst her bubble. “She moved to a new school too.”
Talia’s lower lip quivers and she sounds impossibly sad when she says, “I thought me and Tulsa were gonna be in school together?”
“Not this year,” you reply sympathetically, but then perk up to continue, “we’re still getting first day of school ice cream with Tulsa and Gunnar and Aunt Holly and Uncle Bo. That’s exciting, right?”
Talia’s eyes light up at the promise of ice cream and you knew that would work. She’s her father’s daughter when it comes to her sweet tooth.
“And you and Daddy, right?” She asks, leaning up in her knees on the stool, little palms pressed flat against the countertop.
“And me and Daddy,” you confirm. “We’re even bringing you to school in the morning, before Daddy goes to work.”
“Okay,” Talia nods once, decisive, and her mood about starting kindergarten is all but gone. “Mommy, can I have fishies for a snack tomorrow?”
You move around the kitchen, gathering up the components for her lunch, “sure, love bug, you can have fishies.” The snack-sized packet of Goldfish get tossed into her lunchbox, along with a handful of raspberries, a peeled Cutie, exactly five pretzel twists, a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich cut into stars, and a small water bottle. Now that she’s into it, Talia’s definitely got opinions on what should be included with her lunch.
“No, you can’t take seven cheese sticks,” you sigh, pulling the bag out of her hands and replacing it in the fridge before shutting the door. “I’ll give you one.”
“But I want six!” She yelps, hanging from the fridge handle. “I want six!”
“Six what?” Mat’s voice echoes through the kitchen, the back door closing behind him.
“Daddy!” Talia squeals and makes a beeline for his knees, crashing into them with a muffled grunt from Mat. He holds the pizza box high over her head in one hand and rubs at her head with the other. “Mommy won’t let me have six cheese sticks.”
Mat grins at you over Talia’s head and you roll your eyes back, crossing your arms and leaning a hip against the counter. You wait to see how he’ll handle it.
He slides the pizza box onto the counter and hoists Talia up next to it, leaning his palms on the counter and kissing her cheeks until she giggles. “Mommy is always right, Talia Bee,” he says seriously. “Especially when it comes to knowing how many string cheeses you can eat.”
You smile to yourself, turning to the cabinets to get out plates and glasses for dinner. Mat keeps talking to Talia behind you. “Besides, the last time you ate three string cheeses you puked on my sneakers, what do you think six would do?”
“Uhhh,” Talia’s eyes go wide and she cradles Mat’s face in her little hands, “puke six times?”
You and Mat wrinkle your faces into matching expressions of disgust. “Yeah, we don’t want to do that, right?” Mat laughs, tickling Talia until she shrieks for him to stop.
Before Talia can knock into it, you slide the pizza box out of her reach, warmth filling your stomach at how adorable Mat and Talia are together. Every time you see them, with their dark heads bent together conspiring, your heart lurches with love. Having a family with Mat is all you’ve wanted since you’d seen him around his teammates’ kids.
“Daddy?” Talia pipes up a few minutes later, half-chewed pizza in her mouth.
“Swallow first, please,” you remind her, snagging the green peppers off of Mat’s slice. You have no idea when he even orders with green peppers when you’re the only one who likes them.
Talia chews and quickly swallows while Mat waits with a soft smile on his face. “Can I wear my helmet to school?” She props her chin on her fists and grins charmingly at you both. Her hockey helmet is covered in stickers and glitter, a project with Mat that you hadn’t been privy to before it happened. She’s really easy to spot on the ice during her skating lessons though.
Mat grins at your daughter, clearly delighted at the prospect of her walking into her classroom with the decorated helmet on, but he shakes his head a little. “I think your helmet is better left on the rink, TB. Didn’t you and Mommy pick out a dress?”
You casually slide a few carrot sticks on her plate, mentally fist pumping when she grabs one and absently starts chewing on it. “Yeah, baby,” you chime in, “I thought you liked the dress we picked? With the blue stripes and your fancy heels?”
Talia’s fancy heels are a regular old pair of sandals with a twisted knot over the toes and an ankle strap, but they also have a quarter of an inch thick sole by the heel and so, they’re “fancy heels.”
“Oh yeah,” Talia nods. “I forgot. Can I bring Sparky?”
“Sure you can,” you agree. “But he has to stay in your backpack, okay? We don’t want him getting lost.”
“And maybe,” she plucks her fingers at the crust of her pizza, “maybe I can take Daddy’s hat. And maybe my sparkle jacket?” Nerves creep into her voice and it wavers a bit, making your heart clench painfully. You just want to protect her from all the bad feelings.
Mat reaches out to tug at the end of her braid, “you can take my hat in your backpack too.” His lips twist up to the side a little, concerned about Talia’s nerves.
“And you can wear your sparkle jacket over your dress,” you promise. Mat’s Stanley Cup Champion hat and Talia’s customised playoff denim jacket had been staples in her wardrobe all summer and you’re not surprised that she wants to bring both with her to school as comfort items.
Talia beams and Mat slings his arm over the back of your chair, relaxing now that Talia’s happy again. “How about you finish that pizza and we get in a little park time?” He suggests, laugh echoing around the kitchen when Talia jumps up on her chair to start chanting about the park.
After clearing up dinner and wrapping the leftover pizza up, the three of you head out to the park, Talia zipping ahead of you on her little pink bike. Mat links his fingers with yours and you squeeze his hand gently.
“She’s getting so big,” he comments sadly, his lips turning down in a frown. You look up at his side profile, studying the way his eyes never leave Talia for a second. Your heart flips in your chest, a painful lurch when you think about how you should be holding another baby right now, how you want so badly to give Talia younger siblings. Mat looks down at you and squeezes your hand tightly, drawing you away from the negative thought spiral. His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile and you know he’s about to say something out of pocket to lift your mood. You wait and sure enough, he says, with a little twinkle in his eye, “maybe we should homeschool her?”
A laugh bubbles out of your chest, the absurdity of his question slash suggestion easing the knot in your chest.
“Mat, baby,” you giggle at him, “you have a high school education and I can’t do math. It took all of my brain power and patience to teach her how to read and write.”
“Okay, homeschooling is out,” he replies, leaning in to give you a quick peck before running off to the swings, where Talia is calling for him to push her. She still has her helmet on and it’s tipping just a little bit over her eyes. Mat’s behind her in an instant, sending the swing higher and higher into the air. You reach Talia’s bike and set it upright, sitting on the seat and watching your two favorite people in the whole world laugh together.
A warm early September breeze ruffles your hair and you wave when Talia shrieks for you to watch how high she’s going. You want to live in this moment forever and commit every detail to memory.
Mat spends the next forty-five minutes chasing Talia around the park, wearing her out enough that bath time is a breeze and she slips under her covers with little argument. You and Mat pile into her bed too and Talia curls up against your side, yawning widely. Mat reads Madeline, voice getting quieter and quieter as Talia nods off, until he’s stopped reading altogether and her mouth hangs open, face slack in sleep.
“Sleep tight, love bug,” you whisper, kissing the top of her head before easing out from under her arm. Mat helps, holding your waist and keeping you steady as you get to your feet. He plants his own kiss on Talia’s forehead and clicks off the bedside lamp and turns on the nightlight before following you out of the room.
A sort of bittersweet mood traps you and Mat while you get ready for bed later. You know she’s ready for school, ready to make new friends and learn, but it’s hard to know that your tiny best friend is going to be out of your sight for eight hours a day now.
“She’s going to kill it,” Mat says, opening his arms for you to cuddle close. You rest your cheek over his heart, arms wrapped around his waist.
“I know,” you sigh. Your legs tangle with Mat’s under the covers. “What am I going to do with my day now?”
“Bottomless brunches and window shopping at the Americana,” Mat teases, kissing the crown of your head.
You tuck yourself even closer to him, soaking up his body warmth. “Oh ha,” you drawl. “Very funny.”
“It’s why you married me,” Mat chirps and you know he’s grinning without even having to look at him.
“Mhm,” you hum. “Definitely not for your big….wallet.”
You giggle and Mat groans, training his fingers up and down your spine, making you shiver. “That was even worse than mine, Squeaks,” he mutters.
“Guess your terrible sense of humor is rubbing off on me,” you snark, kissing Mat’s chest and closing your eyes. He mutters something under his breath, but his heartbeat is steady in your ear and you’re asleep before you know it.
The next morning is harder than you expected, emotion clogging your throat as you get a special breakfast - Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, bacon, and fruit cut into different shapes - ready for Talia while Mat helps her get dressed.
He’s surprisingly adept at doing her hair, a high ponytail braided and tied off. There’s a big white bow at the top of her ponytail and her smile is huge as she spins in the little blue and white striped sundress.
“I love this dress, Mommy,” she beams, wiggling excitedly while you tuck a napkin into her collar to keep her clean.
“You look like a princess,” you compliment her. “Daddy did a really good job with your hair.”
“Thank you,” Mat wiggles his eyebrows and sits down to his own plate of Mickey pancakes.
Talia looks at you with wide eyes and covers her mouth with both hands while she tries to whisper, “Daddy messed up soooo many times.”
Mat’s lips flatten into a straight line and he looks at Talia with sarcasm written plainly on his features. “Gee, thanks, TB. I thought we agreed not to tell Mommy that?”
Talia shrugs at him and returns to her breakfast, humming happily under her breath. You smile at Mat and lean over the counter to kiss him gently, darting your tongue out to lick up a drop of maple syrup on his lower lip. “I still think you’re pretty impressive,” you whisper against his lips.
Mat grins against your lips and Talia makes a fake gagging sound, “kissing’s gross!”
You pull back from Mat with a laugh and point your fork at your daughter. “You won’t always think that, now finish breakfast. You don’t want to be late for your first day, do you?”
Talia shovels another bite of pancake into her mouth, slightly less enthusiastic, and you kiss the top of her head before going into the front hall to find her backpack to make sure everything is packed up. It’s heavy, full of fresh supplies (including a 64-pack of Crayola crayons with Talia’s initials Sharpied onto each individual crayon, a fit of mania from Mat, because “no one is going to try and snake my baby’s crayons from her!”), the Disney Princess beach towel that’ll be used for nap time, and one of Mat’s old button downs that’ll be used for a smock during art class.
You zip the backpack and settle it back against the wall, swallowing the emotion clogging your throat. Seeing all of Talia’s gear packed up is making everything so much more real.
Mat’s hands on your hips startle you a little, and you jolt back against his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?” He mutters, kissing your cheek. His palms are warm on your sides, fingers splayed towards your belly button.
“Just thinking about how it seems like time is moving so fast,” you sigh.
Mat nods against your neck and mumbles into your skin, “can we get serious about trying for another again? I miss the baby years.”
Your heart beats in triple speed in your chest, anxiety flooding your veins, but you nod, whisper, “yes, definitely. I want another baby, Mat.”
The conversation is halted when Talia comes stampeding into the hallway, twirling around. “Mommy! Can I wear your lipstick?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pouts adorably. You should resist, tell her no and swipe on a little of the Pink Sugar Summer Fridays lip balm that she loves instead, but you find yourself nodding and pulling away from Mat to grab your purse off the hook.
“Sure, baby,” you squat in front of her, digging out the well-loved tube of Black Honey from the bottom of your purse. Talia puckers her lips out in a kiss and you swipe on a little bit of the sheer balm.
Twenty minutes later and running slightly behind schedule, after you make Talia pose for a few pictures with her Back to School board and she insists on Mat sitting on the step next to her for a picture, you’re all buckled into Mat’s car for the quick drive to the primary school. Talia’s swinging her feet in her booster seat, smiling happily now that she’s wearing the red cowboy boots Aunt Liana had brought back as a souvenir from her trip to Nashville over the summer instead of the sandals you initially wanted her to wear.
“Mommy,” Talia sing-songs, “I’m hot.”
“The air conditioning is on, T,” you sigh, rubbing at your temple. You know she’s probably hot because of the boots and the denim jacket she’d insisted on wearing. Her sandals are in your tote bag and all she has to do is ask for them, but a stubborn streak runs through your daughter, inherited directly from both you and Mat.
You can see the side of Mat’s lips tick up out of the corner of your eye, his fingers tapping along on the steering wheel as Justin Bieber plays on the radio - the old-school throwback station, which makes you feel ancient. He looks at Talia in the rear view mirror and says casually, “I bet you’d feel better if you let Mommy give you the sandals.”
Talia’s face crinkles up in disgust. “I don’t want the sandals. I wanna wear my Mashpill boots.”
A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, it’s getting rarer that Talia mispronounces a word, so you’re living for the Nashville/Mashpill mistake.
“The sandals won’t be as hot,” Mat says, and then, laughing, adds, “plus your feet won’t stink!”
“My feet don’t stink!” Talia gasps, outraged. She shoots back, shouting, “your feet stink!”
You laugh and Mat mock-glares at you. You give him an innocent smile, teasing, “keep your eyes on the road, dear.”
Mat scoffs at you, rolling his eyes even as a full smile graces his lips. Talia’s still chanting in the back about stinky feet, at the right age for the silly humor. Mat reaches out and rests his hand on your thigh, letting his fingertips drift up under the hem of the linen dress you’re wearing. The pads of his fingers dance lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you shiver a little, goosebumps rising on your arms. Mat’s smile turns smug and he taps the volume button on the steering wheel with his other hand, singing along loudly to the Billy Joel song now playing. Talia’s little voice chimes in from the back seat with her made up lyrics, and by the second verse, you’ve joined in for the three-part harmony.
Mat pulls the car up to the curb outside of the school, parking behind a line of SUVs before turning the car off and pocketing his keys.
“Ready, T?” You turn around in your seat, smiling widely at her.
She sighs and kicks her feet up at you. “Mommy, can I have my sandals?”
Your smile softens and you nod, reaching behind you for the tote resting at your feet. “Sure can, baby. I think you’ll be more comfortable this way,” you reply, getting out of the front seat so you can open Talia’s door and change out her shoes before she hops out of her booster seat. Mat’s already out on the sidewalk, holding her little pink backpack in one hand.
He looks like such a stereotypical dad in his dark jeans and navy polo, hair scraped back off his forehead and slightly beat up sneakers. The little pink backpack just makes him even hotter and you can’t help but stare. When Mat catches you looking, he gives you a slow smirk and a quick wink, holding his hand out for Talia to take.
She grabs his hand with her free one and lifts her feet off the ground without warning, swinging between you and Mat. Your arm nearly pulls out of its socket and your heart skips a quick beat, but Talia giggles and you love that she feels safe enough to do that. Mat swings his arm, sending Talia forward and eliciting even more giggles.
“Maybe we can just skip school and go to the park?” Talia asks, planting her feet back on the ground and squinting up at the school. It’s a cute little square brick building, kindergarten and first grade classrooms on the outside of the hallways and glass windows looking in on a courtyard. The ceilings are lower inside to make it more welcoming to the kids and Mat can brush the ceiling tiles with his fingertips when he stretches his arm over his head - something he had learned during the open house a few weeks ago.
But from the way Talia’s looking at the building now you’d think she was standing in front of Hogwarts.
At the same time you open your mouth to suggest going to the park after school, Mat pipes up and says, “that’s a good idea, TB. You don’t need to go to school, you can just stay home with Mommy.”
“Mat!” You hiss at him over Talia’s head and he cocks his head at you, barely looking apologetic.
“What?” He mutters back. “It’s an option.”
“It’s not!” You say, at the same time Talia says, “I wanna stay with Mommy.”
You glare at him, hoping your expression conveys the exact levels of ‘see what you did?’ that you’re feeling. Mat’s mouth curls in a sheepish expression and you can see his hand tighten around Talia’s, like he’s not going to let her into the school. Before any of the three of you can say anything, you spot a tall older woman striding down the path towards your little group. You recognize her as the principal and are bracing yourself for the absolute hysterics that Talia is sometimes prone to.
“Hi Talia,” she smiles, bending a little at the waist so she can be at eye level with your daughter, “I’m Mrs. Seaver, the principal. Do you remember meeting me at open house?”
Talia nods, totally mute, her fingers tightening around yours. Your hear squeezes a little for her, nearly ready to break down and bring her home, like Mat had suggested.
“Why don’t you come with me and we can get you settled in your classroom?” Mrs. Seaver continues, somehow managing to get Talia’s hand and backpack away from Mat and starts walking her back up the path to the school. “Your mom and dad will be so excited to hear all about what exciting things you got up to today.”
Talia looks back at you over her shoulder, an apprehensive look on her face. Mat makes a move to step forward and follow them, but you reach out to lace your fingers with his, tugging him back gently. “We literally cannot keep her from going to school,” you whisper, pasting a bright smile on your face and waving at her with your free hand.
Mat looks constipated and you nudge him with the back of your hand, muttering, “smile,” until he manages something halfway decent.
“She’s just a baby,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, waving like a robot. “She shouldn’t be old enough for school.”
You sniffle a little, watching the door shut behind Talia and the principal, your hand dropping from the air. “I don’t understand how time went so fast,” you hiccup, tears building at your lash line. Anxiety starts to churn in your stomach. “Maybe you’re right, maybe we should keep her home another year.”
“Oh, whoa,” Mat wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his chest so he can hug you tightly. “We definitely need to distract you, if you’re starting to agree with me.”
He laughs and you manage a weak giggle against his shoulder. Mat’s hands are warm against your back and you melt into him. “I’m going to miss having my little sidekick around,” you confess, suddenly exhausted from holding it together. Other than a few hours a week at pre-k, Talia’s been by your side practically every second since birth.
Mat drops a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to hit the gym, why don’t we go home and make you a new sidekick?”
You can hear the grin in his voice and you pull back from his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me, Mat,” you murmur, heart pounding wildly. He’d said about trying again earlier, but you weren’t really sure if he was serious.
“Not teasing you, Squeaks,” he replies, the familiar nickname falling from his lips warmly. At this point, he uses it more than your given name, the curse of those damn Nikes. Mat grips your chin in between his thumb and index finger and tilts it up a little more so he can bend his head and kiss you sweetly. “Let’s give it another try and if…well, if not, we can look more into surrogacy again.”
Your head bobbles a nod and your heart swoops a little in your chest, the excited/nervous fizz of Mat’s words making you feel a little dizzy. Baby making is a land mine sometimes for your brain, but right now all you know is that everything in your body is screaming for your husband to give you another baby.
Mat’s grip on your chin tightens briefly and he kisses you again, lacing your fingers with his to drag you back to the car. You skip along behind him, laughter fighting to escape your lips.
“Should we make this one in the bedroom?” Mat teases, holding open the door for you. His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. “Or in the shower like T?”
A flush works its way up over your chest and face, your entire body going hot. Mat laughs at the expression on your face and you mutter, “we don’t know it was the shower.”
“Right, could’ve been the back seat of the car or the couch or in Bo’s bathroom,” Mat’s eyes dance, his smile wide and shit-eating.
You can’t help but smile back at him, electric delight working its way through your veins.
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
word count: 603
warnings: angst :(
it wasn't meant to be this way.
when you and spencer started dating, the honeymoon phase dripped into day-to-day life and activities, an easy transition that left you comfortable, happy, and (as you're now noticing) incredibly vulnerable.
"you can't act like my job, my life and hobbies and interests, are less important than what you do," you say, voice wet with tears.
spencer, frustrated, drags his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight, "my job objectively is!" he counters, loud, annoyed.
"sure, i'll give you that. whatever, that's not the point and you know it."
"i don't! i don't know the point because you don't have one. you just don't want to end the argument and not be right. you're impossible."
"this! this is the point," you say, gesturing between the two of you. you're both upset: you're on the verge of tears, he's disheveled from pacing and messing with his hair.
and still, you love him. you sort of hate that you do - he's being a dick, he can't see how he's hurting you, and he won't make any effort to see your side of the argument. but you love him, so much that your belly hurts with it.
"you don't listen when i come to you with things that are bothering me," you say, reaching forward to grab his arm as if the physical contact might make your point come across better. you can see in his face that he's gearing up to say something else and interrupt him before he can say anything. "all i said was that i didn't feel like you prioritized me and my life and you're the one who made it into work and hobbies.
"i can't sit here and constantly feel inferior. i know your job is important, i know you're saving lives. i don't say anything when i don't see you for weeks at a time, i don't say anything when you have to leave the second the phone rings, and i certainly haven't ever said anything to indicate that i think I'm somehow more important than all of that.
"all i'm asking is that you don't make me sit here and wonder why you're suddenly not making the effort you've had no problem making for the past 3 years and i'm begging you to stop making me feel like i'm crazy when i come to you with this shit!"
"maybe you feel crazy because you're acting crazy, blowing something up into nothing," spencer says, shaking his head at you. he tugs his arm away, taking a step back. "i'm done with this. i can't, i'm too busy to deal with you right now."
"deal with me?" you ask, anger flashing hot in your chest and racing away any tears that might have been ready to fall. "i'm not an item to check off of your to-do list, spencer."
"i can't do this right now," he sighs, turning away and pushing his hands through his hair one last time. he hesitates, back to you and head hung low, before adjusting his watch and walking away.
stunned, you listen as your front door opens and then clicks shut. you wait for him to come back, transform into your sweet boyfriend who would do anything to make sure you're happy. the doting man who spent his time memorizing everything about you so every date would be perfect, who always made time for you despite his job, who made you feel heard and important.
but you stand there, alone, for several minutes without any sign of him. mind racing, you fight the urge to cry.
damn wtf i made myself sad. sorry! hope u enjoyed :)
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Roommates’ Trivial Tiff
Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam
“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-”
“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”
Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.
Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.
Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.
Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”
Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”
Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”
“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.
He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”
Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”
“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”
At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway?
Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”
Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.”
“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos(𝑥)−6sec(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”
There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.”
Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.
Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.
He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.
Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”
Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”
The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”
Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.
At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.
Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.
He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.
Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.”
Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do.
Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head.
After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”
He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!”
Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.”
With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.
#male tf#mental change#masculinization#jockification#himbofication#hair growth#nerd to jock#muscle tf
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Another Chance to Live Part 1 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)
Summary: Ana and you are both struggling with unwanted transfers, but maybe you can at least find happiness off the pitch.
A/N: This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while. I guess my way of processing my emotions about Ana's transfer. I've been in the denial stage for a long time 😅
The next two chapters are already written (just need to edit them) and so far it's a total of about 13k words. I'm now at a crossroad which will decide how long the story becomes. So I thought I'd publish the first part and see how much interest there is in a story like this to help me decide.
It felt like a cruel joke of the universe that now, now when you had been forced to leave, the woman you’ve had a crush on for years, joined your team, or well your former team. Words that made your heart crack a little more every time you thought them. Never in a billion years had you expected your team to become your former team.
Ever since you had first laid eyes on Ana you had been dazzled by her, not necessarily only by her looks, although you definitely enjoyed them, but also by her personality and her aura. She always radiated so much kindness and positive energy. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.
Sadly your paths didn’t cross all too often and when they did, Ana was always somewhere in the heart of whatever group you were part of, while you were lingering on the edges, looking in. So the Swiss woman was probably only vaguely aware of your existence, while you soaked up every detail you could find about Ana. The more you learnt, the more you liked her.
And yes, sometimes when you lay in bed at night you made up little scenarios how the two of you would meet. One of your favorite ones was Ana coming to Atleti, not really knowing her way around Madrid yet, so you take her under your wing and show her everything. And of course she starts falling for you as you spend so much time together. It was your imagination after all, so you could day dream all you wanted.
Now part of this little fantasy was actually coming true, Ana really was joining Atlético, and it frustrated you to no end that now that she came, you were gone. Although perhaps it wasn’t the universe being cruel towards you, maybe it was protecting you because even if you played for the same team there was no way the Swiss woman would ever go for someone like you.
Still, you spent a good amount of time fuming about it in your apartment. Possibly also because it was easier to focus on that rather than on the fact that your childhood club had just dropped you like you meant nothing. Every time you remembered the conversation with the club’s managers you felt like throwing up, hiding under the covers for the rest of your life, and ripping off your ears so you didn’t have to listen to one more word from them. So yeah, it was comforting in a weird way to think about your missed chance with Ana, especially since it never had been much of a chance anyway.
It was harder to hold on to that strange comfort when training actually started and you had to go to Real Madrid’s training center every day. Most days were spent attempting to do your best and keep your negative emotions in check, while thinking nonstop about how much you hated this, how much you wanted to return to Atelti, how much you wanted to leave Madrid altogether.
So all in all you weren’t having the best time, barely getting by was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Then a few weeks after the season started you got a call from Lola.
“Sooo I heard you’re doing a lot of moping these days,” she teased you.
However there was an underlying note of worry in her voice. You had done your best to pretend as if Atleti’s decision hadn’t hurt you, that these things happen in football, and you were completely fine with it, but Lola had seen right through it.
“I’m not moping, I’m just quiet and focused like usual,” you quickly defended yourself. It was only partially true, you hated every single second you spent at the training center of Real Madrid.
“That’s not what I’ve heard, but how about you convince me over a cup of coffee. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”
You didn’t even question how Lola knew that you had the day off tomorrow, apparently she had some spies at Real. As much as you didn’t want to continue talking about the misery that was your new club, you did want to see your friend, so you agreed.
“I might ask some other people if they want to tag along. Everyone misses you,” Lola continued, making you happy and sad at the same time. It was nice to be missed, but you wished you weren’t in a position where you could be missed.
Before you could hang up, Lola told you to bring “your moping buddy Misa”, then she ended the call with a cackle, not giving you any chance to retaliate. In all honesty there was some truth to it, both you and Misa were unhappy at Real, so it wasn’t surprising that she was the only person you had really bonded with so far.
Going by Lola’s words you expected a big group the next day when you entered the café you had agreed upon. What you found however were merely three people, Lola, Misa and no one other than Ana.
Suddenly your stomach was filled with butterflies flapping their wings wildly, making you somewhat nauseous as a result. You hadn’t expected this and you weren’t prepared for it at all. If it wouldn’t have been incredibly rude you would have walked right back out of the café.
Instead you walked over to the small group, doing your best impression of a friendly smile. You could have sworn you saw a knowing glint in both Misa’s and Lola’s eyes. There was no way they knew about your crush though, right?
Lola jumped up when she saw you, hugging you tightly. “It’s good to see you, chica, I’ve missed you,” she told you.
You had to blink a couple of times to chase away the tears burning in your eyes. There was no denying that you had missed her too, all of your former teammates really. You longed to be back at Atlético, and not only because Ana was there.
Right, Ana.
You extracted yourself from your friend and smiled at the blonde. Should you hug her as well? Or greet her with kisses on the cheeks? That’s exactly why you should have been informed that Ana would be there, so that you could think this over beforehand. Or, well, over think it.
Unlike you Ana knew exactly what to do; she got up, greeted you kindly and gave you a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We’ve never had much of a chance to talk, so I’m glad we get one now.”
For a few seconds too long you started at her. You were torn between awe, and a little bit of envy, at how easily the Swiss woman had navigated this greeting, and shock. She remembered you? She was happy to see you? Once your heart slowed down from a wild canter to a moderate gallop and your brain was working more clearly again, you realized that this was probably just something Ana had said to make the situation less awkward, not something she truly meant.
“So, do you want to sit down?” Lola suggested with a smirk on her face. Thankfully she left it at that though and you quickly sank down into a chair. You felt too embarrassed to look at Ana, so you completely missed the reassuring smile she sent your way.
After that things went much more smoothly, mostly because Lola and Ana carried the conversation, allowing you and Misa to remain in your preferred role, attentive listener. Your former teammate as well as your crush tried valiantly to draw you out of your shell, but out of fear of saying something stupid, you kept your answers as short as possible without being weird or unfriendly. If only you could think of something witty to say!
On the bright side your relative quietness gave you a good opportunity to study Ana. She was stunning as always, but you could easily spot the signs of the toll this move to the Atlético had taken on her; her smile wasn’t quite as wide as usual and didn’t reach her eyes, her voice was a little duller, there were badly covered up dark bags underneath her eyes and she was a bit more subdued than normal in general. Man, you really had spent way too long looking at any video of her you could find to notice things like that!
Then all of the sudden Misa let out a gasp. “I completely forgot I promised my neighbor I’d let in her daughter today. I need to leave right now to make it.”
You frowned at your teammate; it wasn’t like her to forget something as important as that. Was something more than her unhappiness with being stuck at Real bothering her? You made a mental note to ask Misa about it the next day, remind her that you were always there if she needed someone.
Misa’s departure didn’t really change anything in the dynamic, she hadn’t contributed much just like you. But then Lola got a phone call from her girlfriend who apparently needed your former teammate urgently. She looked at the two of you apologetically, however you could swear that there was some glee shimmering behind her regretful front.
“You girls should stay here and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Really I’m so sorry about this, don’t let it ruin your day,” Lola babbled, pressing a kiss to both your and Ana’s cheek before dashing out of the café.
You looked after her with confusion. The confusion however was short-lived, quickly drowned out by panic once you realized that you were now left alone with Ana. No more hiding behind other people, no more safety net. You weren’t ready. However leaving also wasn’t an option, there was no way you could do so without offending Ana, so you had to pull yourself together.
“I’m sorry about that,” Ana apologized, bringing your confusion back. As far as you were aware the Swiss woman had absolutely nothing to apologize for.
“They probably planned this because they think I need to be more social again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenni put them up to it, she’s been pretty worried,” the Swiss woman specified, leaving you reeling because you didn’t know how to deal with that much honesty.
“Oh,” you replied, praying that some more words would enter your brain. “Maybe they also did it for me. They think I’m pretty antisocial in general,” you finished, kicking yourself for making yourself look even more pathetic than you already did.
To your surprise Ana didn’t seem put off; on the contrary she chuckled and said, “Well we can be antisocial together then.”
The Swiss woman using the word ‘together’ in reference to the both of you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you could definitely get used to that.
In an attempt to take control of the situation and not end up blurting out something stupid if Ana asked you a question, you inquired how she was liking Madrid so far. It seemed like a normal thing to ask someone that had just moved to a new place.
However the Swiss woman didn’t answer right away, which was atypical for her who always seemed to have a reply ready. That combined with the guarded look in her eyes made you realize that this wasn’t a safe and easy topic for her. In your rush to make sure nothing that would be complicated for you came up, you had totally forgotten that Ana’s own move to Madrid had been anything but a happy occurence. Way to be selfish!
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, that was such a stupid thing to say,” you apologized frantically
“No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Ana quickly reassured you. “I just don’t really know what to say. Obviously I didn’t want to come here, I miss Barcelona. Both the city and the team. So I’m not having the best time to be completely honest. Then again I also haven’t given Madrid much of a chance yet. So…”
The Swiss woman’s openness left you stunned once again. This could never be you, sharing your thoughts and feelings so freely. At the same time you noticed with a surge of excitement and dread that Ana’s explanation gave you a good opening, not unlike your daydreams in fact.
Your fear of being annoying and overstepping was battling hard against your longing to get to spend more time with the blonde in the future. In the end you decided to go for it, maybe Ana would appreciate it and if she didn’t want to hang out again, she could just say so. Of course there was still the fear of rejection holding you back, but you shoved that to the back of your mind. If you didn’t ask the answer would always be no, right?
“If you want to I could show you around Madrid sometime. I’ve lived here all my life so I know the place like the back of my hand and know some nice places. Totally fine if you don’t of course, I’m sure there are many other people that could show you around.”
You spoke in record speed, making it hard for Ana to follow, which was why it took her a moment to answer. These few seconds were some of the most horrible ones in your life. If she said no now all your hopes would be shattered once and for all. Everyone always said it was important to know so you could move on, but honestly if the Swiss woman didn’t want to spend any time with you, you didn’t want to know.
“That sounds great, I’d love to,” Ana replied once she had enough time to process your jumble of words.
“Really?” You double checked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“Yeah, definitely,” the Swiss woman confirmed with a gentle smile. A smile that you returned happily. You hadn’t felt this excited in a while, it was a nice change from the bleakness that had become your constant companion.
The rest of your time together was spent chatting easily. You weren’t a great conversationalist, however with Ana it came much more natural. The blonde definitely did the heavy lifting, but you were happy with your own contributions. You even made her laugh a few times!
Later that day when you were back in your apartment you were much more critical, taking apart every single thing that you had said and coming to the conclusion that you must be the stupidest person on the planet. Thankfully you were going to get another chance in a few days and this time you would be better prepared. You would say interesting things and you would make sure Ana had a great time. The blonde deserved some joy and happiness and you would do your best to give her that.
Before your next meeting with Ana you actually made a plan; you would make a list of her interests and think of possible questions, some jokes and interesting facts you could mention. You spent one evening on it, working furiously and then you realized what you were doing, feeling very foolish all of the sudden. You scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash with some force.
This was pointless and unnecessary and totally embarrassing! Maybe you weren’t the best at coming up with things to say on the spot, but rehearsing everything like this was a role in a play was stupid. The urge to do absolutely everything to get Ana to like you was huge, however is she only liked this carefully crafted version of you that wasn’t any better than her not liking you at all.
Also, you shouldn’t even attempt to get the Swiss woman to like you. Just like you should keep your own crush in check. Ana’s life was complicated enough at the moment, you didn’t need to add your infatuation into the mix.
Unfortunately your noble plan to ignore your crush failed miserably. Whenever you spent time with Ana you fell a little more for her. It was simply impossible not to when she was the kindest, funniest, most interesting and on top of that most beautiful person in the world.
Like when you were out and about on one of your strolls to the city and a young couple approached you, asking if you could take a picture of them. As was typical for you, you hesitated for a moment; not necessarily because you didn’t want to, but because your mind was already working in overdrive, supplying you with every possible negative outcome.
Ana on the other hand smiled at them. “Of course! Where do you want to take it?”
And then she proceeded to take several pictures of the two, showing them to the couple, and when they weren’t completely satisfied yet, she even offered her own suggestions on how they might turn out even better.
All the way you were just watching them, well mostly Ana, with a goofy smile. You loved how much she cared, how much effort she put into random people she didn’t even know. No wait, you didn’t love that, you liked that, admired it.
Or when Ana convinced you to go into a tiny café. A place you would have never frequented on your own because the intimacy of it freaked you out. Not the blonde though. Within seconds she began chatting with the owner, a middle-aged woman who was thrilled someone showed so much interest in her small establishment.
The cake you got was very tasty as was the coffee and the homemade ice tea. You were quick to admit that Ana had made a good decision by forcing you to go there.
However what really pulled at your heartstring was that the Swiss woman went up to the owner afterwards and asked if it was okay to post about this place on Instagram. The poor woman almost started crying out of happiness and thanked Ana profusely, while the blonde kept insisting that this was nothing and really it should be her thanking the owner.
So it was safe to say that you fell deeper and harder every time you saw Ana. But it was okay, you had a foolproof way to make sure that the blonde didn’t figure it out and therefore her life didn’t get disrupted because of you. Whenever you echoed a statement Ana had made about how much she liked hanging out with you or that she thought you were a great person, you always added ‘friend’ into the mix; “I enjoy hanging out with you too, you’re such a great friend.” and “Aw thank you. You’re one of the best people and friends I know too!”
Sometimes when you were feeling particularly hopeful you wondered if the lack of specification on Ana’s part meant that she liked you as more than a friend. You always discarded the idea quickly though. It was much more likely that the thought of being more than friends was so ludicrous to the blonde, something that had probbly never even grazed her mind, that she didn’t feel the need to explicitly state it.
Despite having to resign yourself to the fact that Ana didn’t like you like that, it still made you happy that she was usually in a good mood when you were hanging out. Something you were secretly very proud of. Still every once in a while her sadness shined through, for example when she heard someone speak Catalan or when she saw something that reminded her of Barcelona.
One time a group of fans came up to her. They were friendly and excited and the Swiss woman matched their energy effortlessly. But then one of them mentioned how sad they were that Ana wasn’t playing for Barça anymore. You were forced to watch the blonde deflate slightly after that thoughtless statement. She was good at pretending though, so the fans were none the wiser.
When they were gone you gathered all of your courage. Up until now you had stayed in the shallows of easy conversation so this was a first and once again you worried about overstepping. But when you saw Ana’s sad eyes and the forcefully pulled up corners of her mouth, you couldn’t stay silent.
“Do you want to talk about it? I mean your transfer from Barça? I know we haven’t really talked about that or othe serious things yet, but I’m always happy to listen. I’m actually pretty good at that.”
The Swiss woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.
“That’s very sweet but honestly I’ve been talking so much about it lately. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing anyone wants to talk about anymore. So if it’s okay with you could we just continue like before? The distraction has been helping a lot.”
You had been helping! Happiness flowed through you and your smile was maybe a bit bigger than was warranted for a situation like this. However unless Ana was studying you as intently as you always studied her, you doubted that the blonde would notice.
“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to help in anyway.”
Ana and you kept seeing each other regularly and it was the undisputed highlight of your current life. Honestly it was a little worrying how few other things brought you any joy, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that.
So when you were put into a situation where you had to cancel on Ana you were devastated. It wasn’t an appropriate reaction to something so small, but you had a ten minute crying session until you could even begin to function properly again. Calling the Swiss woman was out of the question though, you were still chocked up and sniffling.
Instead you texted her, apologizing multiple times and explaining that you were roped into doing all sorts of things last minute for your father’s birthday tomorrow. You could have slapped yourself for not seeing this coming. Sure, your parents had assured you time and time again that everything was taken care of, but you should have known better. Then you could have done it before today and weren’t forced to cancel on Ana.
Only minutes after you had sent the text your phone started ringing with a call from the Swiss woman. With wide, panicked eyes you stared at the screen. In the end your desire to at least hear Ana’s voice if you couldn’t see her won out. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice anything.
„Hey I just saw your text and wanted to ask if I can help out with anything.”
You smiled at your phone, your heart warmed by Ana’s kindness. There was no doubt in your mind that she would actually follow through on your offer. Not that you would ever take it.
“Aw thank you so much, Ana! But it’s okay really. Most things I have to do at my parents place anyway. You know help them clean and decorate. So I’ll be out most of the day, and then in the evening I’ll have to bake the cake. Who knows how that’s going to go.”
You chuckled, even if you were feeling slightly panicked at the idea of baking. Normally your mother was in charge of that, but she had broken her arm a few weeks ago, so that was out of the question. Moments like this made you wish that you had some siblings or some cousins for that matter, just anyone to help you out.
“Not to brag, but I’m actually a great baker. So if you want some help, I’m happy to come over in the evening and help,” the blonde offered.
It would be nice to have some help, and you always wanted to see Ana. Plus she had brought up the idea of her own accord, so surely it was okay, right?
“That would be great actually. Thank you so much,” you replied, not giving your mind any more opportunity to drive yourself crazy.
Ana and you quickly planned everything out before you hung up and left to do everything else. With the prospect of seeing the Swiss woman later today you were a lot more cheerful than before.
“What’s got you so happy?” Your mother asked you while she supervised the decorating process.
It was incredibly frustrating since she kept criticizing everything you did. Every few minutes you had to step away for a moment, take some deep breaths and visualize how your evening with Ana would be, full of laughter and fun conversation.
“Not this, that’s for sure,” you muttered, low enough so that your mothers whose hearing wasn’t the best anymore, couldn’t here you.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you said louder, “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”
There was no point in bringing up Ana. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you and even after knowing about it for almost ten years your parents still struggled with your sexuality. To avoid unnecessary conflict and awkwardness you never spoke about women you liked unless it was something serious. So never.
“You should focus on decorating and not smile so much. Maybe then we would get somewhere.”
You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut. No point in pointing out that most parents would be happy if their child was happy. And it wasn’t like your mother wasn’t happy about it, she just wasn’t good at being pleasant around you. Somehow she always felt the need to criticize you.
Hours later you got into your car, quickly drove away and as soon as you were a decent distance from your parents’ house you let out a loud scream, releasing all of the built up frustration. Then you set your focus on the near future, on the fact that you would be meeting Ana in half an hour at your apartment. Baking wasn’t really your thing, but baking with the Swiss sounded like a lot of fun. Anything was fun with her really; just being around her made you so happy.
When you got to your apartment Ana was already waiting for you, leaning against her car. A big smile appeared on the blonde’s face when she saw you and she waved at you happily. It warmed your insides, swept away any remnant of frustration from the long day with your parents, seeing how excited Ana was to see you.
You got set up quickly, putting out all the ingredients and opening up the recipe you had settled on. Then you turned to the Swiss woman expectantly.
“So any baking pro tips from you before we start?” You asked teasingly.
Ana looked at you sheepishly.
“To be completely honest I don’t really know that much about baking. I usually only bake once a year to make some Christmas cookie,” the blonde admitted, scratching her nose.
You frowned at her in confusion. This didn’t really make any sense to you, but you didn’t want to make Ana feel bad about it.
“So why did you say you did?” You asked carefully. „I mean only if you want to tell me, it’s totally fine if you don’t. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
The Swiss woman blushed a little as she explained herself, “I really just wanted to spend some time with you today.”
Your heart started racing at this confession, your hopes going through the roof. It didn’t take long for the logical part of your brain to bring you back to earth though. Surely this didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. Most likely Ana was just struggling today and didn’t want to be alone.
“Oh I’m sorry you’re having a hard time today. You know you can always tell me that and if it’s possible at all I’ll always make time for you. You don’t have to make up reasons to hang out.”
Ana stared at you with a pained expression. It hurt your heart to see her in pain and it made you wonder if something had happened today, perhaps something that reminded her of Barcelona?
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when the blonde stayed quiet, but then you thought better of it. “Wait no I’m sorry, you already said that you’re tired of talking about it before and that you prefer a distraction. So let’s bake!”
You put some extra excitement into your voice and made sure to keep up a stream of easy chatter as you got to work. For a while Ana remained a bit distant and quiet, but before too long her smile returned and she began talking and joking.
When the blonde laughed loudly at a joke you had made you felt very proud of yourself for giving Ana what she needed, a distraction. If you continued to be helpful she would keep wanting to hang out with you and that was also very much in your interest. Even if the knowledge that it meant something else to you hurt somewhat every time you thought of it.
However it was all worth it to get to spend time with Ana. Everything was worth that.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#ana maria crnogorcevic imagine#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader
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❄︎ Family Barbecue ❄︎
Alexia's favourite girl's series
Family barbecues are the girl's new favourite thing
“Emilia why don’t you have your shoes on?” You addressed the girl in front of you who was looking at all her shoes. “I can’t find my light up shoes.” Emilia pouts up at you, eyes shining with unshed tears. Irene and her wife had invited you all to a family barbeque with all the Barca girls and their kids. The girls had not stopped talking about it for weeks and were positively bouncing at the thought of seeing everyone.
“It’s okay we will find them, come on.” You picked her up and carried her to the kitchen. Mateo and Emilia had recently gone on shopping spree with Irene and Alexia giving the two former captains an excuse to catch up. They had bought matching pairs of light up shoes that Mateo and Emilia were absolutely obsessed with. It had been a constant battle with Emilia to take them off since she had gotten them.
Alexia was in the kitchen when you and Emilia rounded the corner, “Ale have you seen Meels special shoes?” Val lit up from where she was sat comfortably in the ex-athletes’ arms. “Sí they are in their special box, so they don’t get lost remember pequeña?” Emilia hummed thoughtfully before running off to find them. You smiled softly at your wife as you made your way over to her.
Alexia welcomed you eagerly as her strong arm wrapped around your waist, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as she swayed gently making the two-year-old in her arms giggle. You cupped her chubby cheek as she babbled around her dummy, “Someone’s happy now that they’ve been fed huh? Just like your Mami.” Alexia nudged your hip as you teasingly smiled back at her.
Val’s little hands fell on both of her mother’s cheeks as she happily nuzzled her head against Alexia’s jaw. “¿Estás lista, cariño? We should go before we are late.” Alexia asks as she lets her squirming daughter down so she can roam around for a bit. “Sí, I’ll call Iz and meet you in the car.” Before you could turn around you were pulled back into the strong hold of your wife, “¿Adónde crees que vas?” You tilt your head slightly, “To get Is, should I be worried about your memory?” You teased slightly before wrapping your arms around her neck and giving her what she wanted.
Alexia sighed into the kiss like she had done since she was young. The familiarity will never dawn on the blonde as she softly breaks away to kiss down your neck. “Ale the kids.” You warn after a particularly sloppy kiss. You could feel her smirk against your skin before she pulled your impossibly closer, “We are well overdue a night to ourselves hermosa.” You melt into the purr of her accent as she presses her lips to as much skin as she can find, “Don’t start something you can’t finish Putellas.” You guide her lips back to yours and indulge her for a few more minutes. “I think we both know how quick I can make you finish amor.”
You push her back gently, rolling your eyes as her eyes rake down the front of your top, “You’re worse than a hormonal teenager.” Alexia shrugs, “Can you blame me when you have a wife as hot as mine?” You grant her one last kiss before ushering her to get Val into the car, you roll your eyes again when she slaps your ass as you walk away from her.
“Iz, Meels, Vamos time to go!” There is silence before a herd of footsteps barrel down the stairs, warning of being careful falling on deaf ears as they race to see who can get to the car the fastest. Once everyone was buckled up and safe and sound you were on route to Irene’s. Emilia and Isabella were chattering amongst themselves while Val was mesmerised by everything going on around her.
“Mami how long until we are there?”
“What kind of food will they have?”
“Is Mateo going to be wearing his light up shoes?”
“Is everyone going to be there?”
“Obviously Emilia, it’s a team barbeque!”
“I was just asking Iz, how am I s’posed to know.”
“You just are!”
“What if Tia Mapi isn’t there or Tia Patri or Tia Jana or Tia Claudia…”
A squeeze to your hand has you stifling a laugh as you glance over at your wife who is just as amused as you are. You shook your head softly as your daughters bicker lightly in the back. “¡Chicas, no creo que estéis excitadas! Do you mi corazón?” She asks you as turn to face your daughters who look appalled by their Mami’s insinuation. “Am too excited!” Emilia scoffs as she crosses her arms with a huff, “Sí you just don’t get it Mami.” Isabella agrees as she quietly whispers something to her younger sister, whatever was said sent the two into a fit of giggles. “They are too cool for you know Mami.” You tease as your wife chuckles softly, bringing your joined hands up to her lips.
Once you finally arrived at Irene’s house you and Alexia are left to carry all the bags left behind by the two overly excited girls. “At least we still have one who wants to stay with us.” You coo as you unbuckle Val from her seat, “Mi amor she’s two, she can’t form any opinions yet.”
The sight you’re met with once you enter the house is nothing short of perfect chaos. Emilia is hanging off Mapi’s shoulder as she climbs her like a tree. Isabella has been whisked off with her ‘older a cooler sisters’ (Jana and Claudia). The rest of the former world class team are lounged around the back garden as music flits around the area.
“Ay Dios mio, it’s a miracle you are only a half hour late.” Ona teases as she’s brought into a hug by her former Captain. “You try having three kids and come back to me Battle.” You tell her as she greets you with a kiss to the cheek. “I’m not complaining I love seeing mi bebés pequeños.” She coos at the two-year-old in your arms, Val shies away from the contact and buries her face into your neck.
“I remember when they were all like that, she’s so cute.” You laugh gently before greeting your hosts. “Mucho Gracias for having us Lucia, you are a saint.” The woman waves your thanks off, “You are the only one who keeps me sane chica, please never leave.” Irene scoffs playfully from her spot next to Alexia, “Don’t worry Alexia is just as bad.” Alexia just smiles cheekily as she pulls her friend into a hug.
“Mateo!”
“Emilia!”
The two six-year-olds squeal as they run to each other, Mapi long forgotten as the two bound around to show everyone their matching shoes. “Hola Lucia.” Isabella smiles as she pulls the woman into a hug. Lucia melts into the hold of your eldest and compliments her on her perfect manners before pinching her cheek. “Iz do you want a drink?” Irene calls from where her and Alexia are now sitting, “Sí, por favor.”
Isabella waltzes over to where her Mami and Tia are standing, “Mami ¿puedo tomar un refresco?” Alexia kisses her cheek with a nod “Tell Irene about your match hija.” Isabella’s eyes light up as she jumps into how she scored a hattrick and got two assists. Alexia smugly watching as the some of the other girls gather around to listen.
You take the wine offered to you gratefully before finding Frido and Ingrid who eagerly urge you over. Valentina seems to perk up a bit at the sight of her favourite Swede who showers her with affection.
Emilia found herself sat on Lucy’s lap, “Did you see my shoes Luce?” She points to her brand-new light up shoes as Lucy sets her down so she can show her how they light up in different colours. “That is so cool Meels my friend from England would love a pair of them!” Emilia’s head tilts slightly as she peers down at her feet again, “Your friend sound super cool!” Lucy laughs at the thought of her blonde captain, “I want to meet her!” Kiera picks the blonde up after overhearing their conversation, “You already have silly, your Tia Leah!”
Emilia giggles as Kiera tickles her softly, “I love Tia Leah! Can we show her my new shoes por favor!” Kiera and Lucy share a glance before melting at the sight of the girl’s puppy eyes. Kiera pulls out her phone a quickly facetimes her best friend who picks up straight away. Emilia tries to stand on her tippy toes to see as they briefly chat. “Someone wants to show you something, mate.” Kiera chuckles as Leah’s eyebrows raise with intrigue. Emilia is bouncing up and down with anticipation as Kiera finally turns the phone around so she could see her Tia Leah.
“Meelsie!” The Londoner squeals as she coos at the girl who blushes slightly, “Tia! Tia! I miss you so much!” Kiera gives the girl her phone who rambles on and on, catching the other blonde on what she has missed since Emilia has last seen her. After their accidental meeting when Emilia got lost at the Emirates, she has had a strong bond with the Gunner especially since Leah would come to some of the Barcelona games to ‘see Kiera’ when it was really to see her favourite Putellas.
Leah had gotten Emilia and Arsenal jersey for her sixth birthday and Emilia had been obsessed with it since then much to the pure chagrin of her Mami who had a heart attack at the sight of it. Alexia had ‘ban’ her from wearing it around the house, but you had insisted that Emilia wore it as often as possible being the secret Gunner you were.
“Tia look at my new shoes!” Leah’s’ eyes light up, “I want a pair!” Emilia giggled, “I promise the next time you visit I will get you a matching pair so you can match with me and Mateo!” Emilia quickly ran over to where her Mami was sitting with Jenni, “Mami! Mami we need to get another pair of these shoes!” Alexia glances down thinking Emilia’s were damaged, “Not for me Mami! For Tia Leah!” Leah laughed loudly as she was passed to Alexia, the Spaniard playfully rolling her eyes at her ‘enemy’. Jenni was cackling at the interaction as Alexia once again lectured Leah about the Arsenal jersey sitting in her house.
“Once a gunner, always a gunner Putellas!” Alexia huffed as Jenni greeted the English woman, Emilia was getting impatient as she made grabby hands for the phone so she could say bye to her Tia. “Williamson don’t you even think about it.” Alexia hissed as Isabella popped her head to see who was on the phone.
“Ay hola Leah!”
“Is, I have the perfect jersey for yo-,”
“Ay no!” Alexia pulled the phone away from her eldest as Leah’s laugh travelled back into Emilia’s hand. “Vamos Tia, I’ll bring you back to Kei.”
Alexia watched as Emilia happily skipped off towards the two Brits as she pulled Isabella down onto her lap. “Mami It’s okay I bleed Blaugrana nothing will change that.” The brunette promised as tapped over where the badge would be on her top. “At least I did something right.” She mumbled as she kissed the top of her eldest’s head land let her go before Isabella could leave Jenni ushered her over, “I could get you a tigres jersey with your name on it.”
“Jennifer!”
After the food had been served and everyone was happily full Valentina seemed to get a bit restless, reverting into the safety of your neck as her little hand softly hits your chest. “You okay baby?” You question as she avoids her dummy, “Mami.” It was whispered so softly that you barely heard it, but Val repeated it a few times until it was absolutely clear that she was squirming in you grip. Head searching for her Mami’s.
“Vale, let’s go find Mami.” It didn’t take long for you to spot her with Mapi the two laughing loudly as you approached. Val who had finally accepted her dodo reached her arms out for Alexia as she babbled her name around the dummy. Alexia’s smile brightened as she spotted the both of you and she could feel the butterflies in her stomach as her little girl reached out for her.
“Hola bebita, qué le pasa a mi vida?” You easily passed her over as you gave Alexia a grateful smile, “She wanted her Mami didn’t you Val.” Your youngest nodded as she clutched Alexia’s top tightly in her hand and relaxed at the familiar and safe smell of her Mami. “Creo que alguien tiene hambre, ¿eh?” Alexia asked with a smile as she bounces the girl on her knee. “I have a bottle in my bag amor you go get another glass of wine, I’ve got her.” You press a kiss to her awaiting lips before giving your daughter one too. “Where’s my kiss?” Mapi teases as you coo mockingly at her and press kisses to her cheek. Mapi laughs loudly as she embraces the affection before her attention is captured by the little girl in her best friend’s lap.
“She really is the cutest thing in the world, all your kids are dios!” Alexia smiles brightly and Mapi can feel the pride radiating of her best friend. “You really are the best mother Ale, you’re pequena’s adore you.” Alexia glances away from Val to send Mapi a soft smile, ¿Quieres saber mi secreto?” Mapi cocks her head, lips quirking in anticipation. “I have the greatest woman in my life, she taught me what love really is and what happiness feels like, and she brought me the most perfect little girls I could have ever asked for.” Alexia kissed her youngest’s cheek as she held the bottle for her.
“I would say you’ve gone soft, but you’ve always been this way.” Alexia laughed softly before nudging her best friend, “Gracias amigo.”
“Mapi! Mapi! Will you and Ingy push me and Mateo on the swings por favor.” Mateo nods eagerly as he clutches Emilia’s hand in his. “Ay, Godmother duties call, adios Vally!” Alexia watches fondly as Mapi picks both Mateo and Emilia up and their giggles light up the atmosphere even more than possible.
Alexia’s eyes flicker over to where Isabella is passing a ball around with Jana, someone who Isabella absolutely idolises, eyes lighting up when she sees her lead Barcelona out to a full Camp Nou, armband proudly displayed just like how Alexia used to be before she retired.
Finally, her eyes land on you in deep discussion with Kiera and Aitana. Alexia is overcome with the amount of love she constantly feels whenever she looks at you, it’s the same feeling she got when you were just kids and you had given her your favourite crayon to draw with. The same love she felt when she got down on one knee and proposed and when you walked down the aisle in the most breath-taking dress.
Val squirms a little and Alexia realises that she had moved the bottle slightly away from her daughter. With a soft apology and kiss to her head she pulls her closer as her eyes flicker around again.
“Promise me you will never grow up Val.”
Val slightly grunts around the bottle in her mouth and that’s a good enough answer for Alexia.
#alexia's favourite girls#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagines#alexia putellas#alexia putellas oneshot#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso imagines#woso#barcelona femeni
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HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS
...
and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺
HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3
simon riley betrays you pt. 2
simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist
☆ ☆ ☆
-miraculously, they let you go.
-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.
-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?
-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.
-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.
-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.
-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.
-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?
-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.
-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.
-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."
-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.
-"c'mon jus' let me-"
-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.
-oh, thank god.
-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.
-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.
-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."
-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.
-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?
-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"
-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?
-"no. never."
-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.
-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.
-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.
-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."
-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"
-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.
-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"
-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"
-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.
-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.
-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."
-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.
-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.
-"what?"
"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.
-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).
-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.
-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?
-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.
-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.
-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."
-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.
-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."
-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.
-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."
-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.
-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.
-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.
-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.
-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.
-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."
-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.
-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.
-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rarawrites
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AITA for "forcing" my best friend to break up with his boyfriend?
🧸
I (22 cis m) and my best friend 'A' (21 ftm) have been friends since we were 10 years old and I love him more than anything. He’s genuinely the sweetest, most thoughtful, and funniest person I’ve ever met. He means everything to me and we’ve been there for each other through the hardest times of our lives so far and I plan on staying until the end.
It’s always been us two. Btw, everyone mentioned here uses he/him pronouns exclusively.
A has been with his boyfriend (21 cis m) for about 2 years now, and from what he told me, things were going great. Even if I’m not too fond of his boyfriend. A few days ago, we got pretty drunk at a friend’s housewarming party. A and I live together, and as soon as we got home, he suddenly started rambling about how he wishes his boyfriend cared about him the same way I do.
Legit felt like I was in some dumb romance movie for a moment there. I felt a little uneasy and asked him to elaborate. In short, his boyfriend essentially treats him like a doll instead of a person with real emotions. He feels as though his boyfriend just uses him to get his daily fix of physical affection and sex, that’s it. The only positive thing his boyfriend can say about A is that he’s cute, which boggles my mind. It’s true but there’s so much more to him as a human being.
A is an incredibly talented artist, super kind, super emotionally intelligent, and has a plethora of interests he loves to infodump about. I’m trying my hardest not to make this entire post about how amazing he is. He’s helped multiple friends clean their depression apartments and took them out to get fresh groceries etc. because it’s basic decency to him. He has such a big heart and holds so much love in it for everyone in his life. Being around him is just so easy and makes life worth living.
He’s just an incredible person all around and every single person that has him in their life recognizes that, except his boyfriend. They’ve had issues in the past because they’re not sexually compatible, which led to some miscommunication and made A feel like he was coerced into things he didn’t want to do. He just did them to make his boyfriend happy. He does a lot of things for his boyfriend, actually. He’s constantly buying little gifts, remembering what he likes, and plans cute dates for them to go on. His boyfriend does none of these things.
I want to mention that A has bpd and avpd. He has an intense fear of rejection and will do everything in his power to appease others so they won’t leave him. I always take the time to reassure him that I love him for who he is and not what he can give me. Basically just making sure he feels loved. Keep in mind, his boyfriend is aware of this but he just gets annoyed when A seeks reassurance from him. His behavior has made my blood boil several times in the past already, but I always kept it to myself for A’s sake. If I was vocal about disliking his boyfriend, it probably would’ve caused A a lot of distress and emotional turmoil.
Still, I don’t think this relationship is healthy for A and I know him well enough to know he won’t break it off on his own. It’s just his combo of personality disorders that makes it impossible for him. I told him about my concerns and he agreed, but said he feels bad for his boyfriend since he apparently doesn’t have any friends outside of A. From my POV, it just looks like his boyfriend knows A is out of his league and is grasping at straws to make A stay with him out of pity.
This is where I might be the asshole. I got a little frustrated and raised my voice, which I severely regret. I don’t want to blame it on the alcohol but it definitely had a hand in it. I finally told him about all these grievances I have about his boyfriend, how much I dislike him and how A deserves so much better, etc.. At one point, I essentially gave him an ultimatum. It’s me or his boyfriend. I didn’t really mean it, it was just a heat of the moment thing I spat out. I would never leave him like that.
A started crying and begged me to calm down, at which point I realized how shitty I was being and immediately began apologizing. We hugged, I comforted him, and we spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking about how he could approach the breakup.
Now that I’ve sobered up I feel like absolute shit. I know it’s not my place to tell A what to do with his romantic relationships, even if I’m his best friend. Plus, I want to be 100% honest here and say I might have romantic feelings for A. I think I have for a long time, but I always wrote it off as intense platonic love. So I may be biased in this whole conversation about his boyfriend.
I didn’t say these things because of that. I genuinely think his boyfriend is a huge dick and full of shit, no matter how sweet and loving he pretends to be. It’s all in the way he treats A. He’s one of those guys that paint their nails (nothing wrong with that but you know the kind of guy I’m talking about), pretend to be feminists, and steal their romantic partner’s personality to seem cooler. He even asked A to stop taking testosterone because he didn’t like how hairy A was getting or some shit like that.
He’s pansexual but has only ever dated girls and started dating A before A began medically transitioning. There’s obviously nothing wrong with that and changes nothing about the fact that he’s pansexual, he just pisses me off when he criticizes A for being 'too masculine'. You can have a preference for feminine people but don’t make that shit your partner’s problem when they just want to pass.
I feel like A’s boyfriend just thought A would always stay the smooth, baby-faced twink he was before going on testosterone and now makes him feel guilty for looking like a grown man. Some people don’t know how to appreciate hairy tummies.
Sorry for making this so long but I just want to be as honest and informative as possible to get proper opinions on the issue. A is now dead set on breaking things off because he now knows that I actively despise his boyfriend and he always puts my opinion above everyone else’s.
Was I in the wrong for doing this or am I just protecting my best friend? I’m glad he intends on ending things but I feel a bit like a conniving snake considering everything. It feels like I’m taking advantage of his mental state even if I’m not doing it consciously.
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We're on this together... (Chapter II)
Bradley Bradshaw × fem!wife!reader
Summary: Is it harder for you? Or for Bradley?
Warnings: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.
'We are on this journey together and we will never separate. I love you."
January 3, 2023.
Everyone,mostly you, could see how much Bradley loved childrens. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, it didn't matter, he loved them.
Ever since you married, you had admired how he treated them, how he made them laugh, how they played, and how his eyes lit up at the high-pitched squeals they made when he threw them in the air. He would catch them again. And again.
He... was born just for this.
That's why you were trying so hard to give him what he wanted more than anything in the world; a baby,a kid of yours.
He searches hundreds of websites for you on ways to increase your chances of getting pregnant, checks your ovulation time, changes your diet... he does the impossible and you both still can't succeed.
You couldn't make your husband happy. He hated this sentence.
And the worst part is, he's not the only one waiting for you to have his child, everyone is doing it, all of your friends are having their second or third kids and you were still... not pregnant.
One day, you were criticized among your friends for not having a flat stomach. They said something as a joke that you might be pregnant, but it wasn't like that.
Just because you dont have a flat belly doesn't mean you're pregnant, right?
Your tears feel familiar on your skin now and when you were sure Bradley is gone you were crying all over the house, you couldn't let him see you like this, it's not fair when he gave you everything and you couldn't give him something so simple.
It's that simple. Right?
You don't want help, you can do it on your own, you know he can or so he thinks, he keeps busy every day trying not to think about it, but it's inevitable, you can't do that when it's something he wants so badly.
You were doing your usual work on laptop, trying to get rid of the thoughts in your head, even if only a little, you were scrolling through your e-mail box while slow jazz was playing in the background, writing down what you needed to write and dealing with the files you needed to handle.
"A young man fell into the base today! We walked around the hard deck and drank soda's. He was with for a while we had a lot of fun, but I think he misses his aunt y/n. I love you baby.💞"
The text came up with a picture of your husband with Jake's son, three of them smiling and Bradley holding some soda cans in his left arm and the right one is holding the boy's shoulder. It was beautiful and made your heart ache, a small smile appeared on your face,the voices and pain in your head seemed to be over, at least for a mimute, and you replied to the message, "I love you two!! Say hello to Jake for me.💓💓"
You stared at the picture for a few seconds, forgetting about the task in front of you.
The smile on Bradley's face was genuine, and he was holding the little boy with incredible familiarity, as if he already knew how to hold a child even though it wasn't his own.
Your phone hit the wooden table with a loud thud and you brought your hands up to your face, feeling tears of frustration falling from your eyes.
No, you were not jealous of them, in fact, you were very happy that they were pregnant with the third one, but why couldn't you?
This was unfair.
While God gave people the chance to have so many children, why couldn't you even have one?
And the saddest problem was,you.
Bradley was perfectly healthy, he could get a different woman pregnant, but he couldn't get you.
The house was quiet, unlike your head, thousands of things were going on every second.
You left your spot and went upstairs to take another pregnancy test with some hope.
It came out negative. Like always.
January 18, 2023.
You throw the four pregnancy tests you took ten minutes ago into the trash can and you hear Bradley sigh as he sits on the bed, hiding his face with his hands. You sit next to him.
“We just have to try harder.” He said, lifting his head to look at you and placing his hand comfortably on your knee.
“What does 'trying harder' mean?” you asked,with a hint of you wobble voice from the emotions. "We do this every day, especially when I'm ovulating, when I..."
"Baby, calm down." Bradley tells you and he just snorts in annoyance.
"Maybe...we could go to another doctor?" He gets down on one knee as if he's proposing, but you stand up and look at him as if he had three heads.
"Why should I go to the doctor? There is nothing wrong with me, we will have this baby, I know. Sooner or later." you exclaimed.
He stood up and took your hands in his, stroking your wrists.
"Of course we will, I have no doubt about that. But—it's better to know more, you know?"
"We're going to have this baby, Bradley. I am going to."
Uh oh-
I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER BEING SO SHORT😭😭😭 and bad news it is progressively gets more sad.. And there is going to be timeline-
I'm tagging people who might be interested and some mutuals:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @els-marvelvsp @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!
#sena writes#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x wife!reader#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#top gun maverick#top gun fan fiction#we're on this together#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x wife!reader
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I have this thing when it comes to post-canon Loop. Where I understand the desire to make Loop A: a human(/human-adjacent), and B: able to return to their original timeline. Because I like happy endings. I like when people can correct their mistakes. And I've designed a human Loop! And written drabbles about them returning to their own time!
But I also think, for me, that I like the option where they have to stay as they are more. You can't go back to who you were before this. You can't go back to where you were before, either. The only way through is forward and the only way forward is through. You are not Siffrin anymore, these connections you had as Siffrin no longer belong to you.
You have to do something else, now. You are something else, now. You have to Change (not like that. Maybe a little like that), be someone new. You have to create an identity for yourself, learn to love this thing you are. Or if not love, because that sounds impossibly hard, you have to learn to live with it. You have to at least try.
Look up at the stars. They live in you, now.
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𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒙.
t/w: noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, coercion, stepcest, fingering, unprotected sex.
a/n: MDNI. ageless blogs may be blocked. inspiration struck, started as simple head canons, i spiraled and brainrot was unavoidable. unbetad is my brand.
synopsis: jeonghan is so perfect . . . if only everyone else knew the truth.
♫: praise.
feel free to block me.
Everybody thinks he’s such a good older brother. He likes to dote on you, always making sure you’ve eaten and staying hydrated, making sure you’re okay, if you need anything— the whole nine yards. Brother of the year fucking award would go to him if everybody who knew him had a say.
“I wish I had a brother like that,” your friends would always gush and whine about how lucky you were to have a big brother like Jeonghan.
“He’s so perfect,” they would say, all dreamy eyed— they loved coming over to your house to gawk and babble about how hot your step brother is. “And he’s so thoughtful!”
“You’re so lucky, Y/N.”
When in reality it couldn’t be further from the truth. You dreaded the very mention of your step brother. He was impossible to escape, from daily life, family life, even your fucking social life somehow.
Any complaints you may even try to voice are immediately met with, “You shouldn’t say things like that about your brother, he’s only looking out for you.”
It’s unavoidable, it’s like you can never escape him. And he loves it all. Always painting himself so perfectly, a perfect son even to his step mother, a perfect brother, always fitting himself in the picture perfect mold of your picture perfect family.
“I think your brother might be an angel,” your friends would giggle behind their hands at sleep overs and kick their feet. A fallen angel maybe, you’d think as you bury yourself under Downy scented blankets.
Little did they know that he was anything but. He was the bane of your existence, you hated him. Resenting him, everything about him. His stupid perfect face, his patronizing laugh, you knew why everyone believed the mask he puts on. He played his part so well.
You knew what was beneath this well constructed mask. It freaked you out, just how easily he could flip at the drop of a hat. It was psychotic, he must be with how violently different he is behind closed doors when he gets you alone. He’s always guilting you, goading you, coaxing you. Annexing you off from your potential exits.
“What? You want mom and dad to find out how fucking disgusting you are, Y/N? Creaming all over your big brother’s fingers. Begging for me,” his words had your head reeling. Using this dirty secret to his advantage, like it was your fault he would force himself upon you. He likes to tell you as much nearly every single time. “How many times is that now?”
Your knuckles blanch, fisting the sheets beneath you writhe under his wicked attentions. Noises falling past your lips as his thumb finds your swollen and abused clit, pulsing around the rest of the slender digits shoved inside your sopping heat.
“I asked you a question,” he hisses, hand pulling away to slap at your core. The noise it produces is absolutely filthy with a wet smack, thighs flexing as your instinctive response is to press them together but you manage to keep yourself from doing so. Knowing Jeonghan would only drag out your torture for such a slip up.
“T-three…. Three? … ‘s three,” your words are barely strung together coherently.
Jeonghan loves playing with you like this. You’re nothing but a toy for him to play with when he’s bored. And unfortunately for you, he gets bored easily. “That’s what you are,” he had said numerous instances prior to this exact moment. When he first started using you as he pleases, “That’s what little sisters are for. Now be a good little toy and behave for me.”
“So messy,” he muses, eyes trained on the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every orgasm he pushes upon you. “I haven’t even put my dick in yet and you’re already like this.”
His hand presses on, drilling you further as you try and earn his mercy.
“No more, please,” your voice far away and quiet as your body quakes from the stimulation he provides.
“No more?” he asks incredulously, a brow arching as he looks at you down through his nose. “Now that’s not fair, I haven’t even gotten to cum yet. What would mom and dad say about you being such a selfish little slut? Using me to get off.”
“You filthy fucking pervert, using your big brother’s fingers to cum,” he’s ruthless. You were sure your older stepbrother was a demon— if not the devil himself. “Look at the sheets, they’re soaked.”
“Should I tell them?” his voice slithering its way into your psyche. “Tell them how you couldn’t help yourself, that you make your big brother help you get off like this?” He loves flipping everything, pinning the blame all on you. “Who would believe that you didn’t want it, huh? You give it up so easily,” his past words always echoing in your mind in addition to his present ones.
It’s always your fault. By now, you can’t help but believe his fucked up words.
“N-no, no, please, Jeonghan,” your whimpering out, tears forming and trickling downwards. Humiliated at the idea of anyone finding out what goes on between the two of you. “I’m sorry, please.”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t think you’re very sorry,” he feigns uncertainty, mock hurt lacing every word. “Maybe I should just . . .” Trailing off, he knows the spike of anxiety that grips you. Leaving your mind to run amuck with worst case scenarios.
“N-no, you— y-you can cum too,” you snivel, bottom lip quivering as you start blubbering.“You need to cum too!”
“Yeah?” He cant help the scoff that follows with they way your so easily manipulated into doing whatever he wants. Fulfilling his every fucked up whim.
“Beg,” says he. “Beg to help me cum,” he eggs you on, “Beg to help me feel good, that’s only fair.”
“Please,” you plead over and over again as his thumb picks up the pace once more. “Please, please, please— Please, cum. Please, I-I can help you feel good. Please.”
“There you go,” he purrs, sheathing his throbbing cock fully inside of your drenched cunt as you cry for him. He’s kissing away at your tears oh so tenderly. “Because that’s what you’re made for, right, Y/N?”
“It’s what I’m made for,” you repeat instinctively amidst your haze, crying out with a particularly sharp thrust.
At the end of the day, you were always going to be wrapped around his finger.
#han#dark!svt#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#tw: coercion#tw: dacryphilia#tw: stepcest#jeonghan#jeonghan smut#svt smut#svt hard hours#svt hard thoughts#seventeen smut
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