#and then admitted they only hated them because they were girls.
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Thoughts on stalker x stalker??
— 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐣𝐲
▹ PAIRING: stalker ex bf ! jake x stalker ex gf ! reader
▹ SUMMARY: You and Jake, exes torn apart, developed a mutual obsession with each other overtime, the lingering romance coming to light with a simple flash of his camera…
▹ WARNINGS: BIG DICK JAKE who records a lil sextape of him fingering you because he's a helpless titty fixated perv, unprotected sex (cowgirl), some crying, a brief handjob and fingering session, kinda angsty
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.5k
“Do you really see better with those glasses on?”
Jake's chocolate brown eyes peeked at you through his specs, a gentle hum rumbling from his throat before answering.
“No. I mostly wear them for the art student aesthetic I’m going for… now don't smile, pretty.”
Snap.
You let the small smile on your face relax at his instructions. “And the other reason?” You pressed, watching as he angled the lens a little higher over you this time.
“Hm, dunno... maybe because cute girls always ask about them?”
You hated it whenever he talked about other girls—
Snap.
Another click of his camera sounded throughout the quiet studio, it’s white flashes lighting up the dim room.
“So you like the attention then?” You teased, watching as his facial expression remained nonchalant.
Focused.
“Your attention? Yes,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes behind the camera. “Might be one of my favorite things, actually…”
Snap.
Good answer Jakey, you thought to yourself, trying your best to keep a neutral facial expression before him.
“One of your favorites just like old cameras, apparently...” you went on… “How come you never use the new one I bought you for your birthday last year?”
“Because,” Jake answered while lining his eyes up with the camera lens, “this one is much easier for me to carry around... I like that it’s portable...”
Why would he need a camera on the go, you asked yourself silently… even though, the reality was that Jake had actually dropped the other camera while following you one night—
Snap.
“Jeez, how many more shots do you need, Peter Parker?”
“You'll know when I'm finished,” the dark eyed boy replied with a foreign rasp to his tone, index finger gently squeezing into the camera button as he continued. “Now stick your tongue out for me.”
“I'm sorry?”
Snap.
His unusual sentence really caught you off guard this time, a feeling of chills washing over you as he took his lower lip into his teeth.
“Beautiful,” he said almost breathlessly, “just try following my directions next time though, yeah?”
“Jake, I need a break...” You sighed, changing your position on the couch as his vision remained glued behind the camera.
“In a minute, ____…”
Snap.
He used your first name on purpose because you used his, and he knew you were the type of girl who didn’t like that very much.
“I said that’s enough, alright?”
You slightly raised your voice at him, his demeanor remaining just as calm as before once a prolonged sigh escaped his throat.
“I suppose five minutes of wasted time wouldn’t hurt,” he said sarcastically, placing his red camera on the stool beside him before extending a hand, helping you off the couch.
“Thanks,” you replied half-heartedly, grabbing the large white sheet from the couch arm and wrapping it around your naked body.
“I could never get tired of this honestly,” Jake confessed, watching you intently as you poured yourself a cup of water from the nearby cooler.
“Tired of what?” You asked in between your first sip, his eyes being all over you except your face as you spoke.
“Looking at you,” was all he said for you to roll your eyes at his words, making him chuckle at your reaction.
“I’m serious, y’know that?”
“Mhm… I can tell,” you smirked with a nod, taking the last sip of your water before making your way back over to plop on the couch. “How about you go over your pictures… you’ll never know if we caught the perfect one already if you don’t check…”
He didn’t verbally respond to your suggestion, only nodding in agreement as he reached for the camera, clicking through its film.
To no one’s surprise, Jake, who doubled as your pervy ex-boyfriend and personal neighborhood stalker, felt himself getting hot all over again just from looking at the pictures of you displayed on the grainy screen.
Today's excuse to photograph you? He needed a nude model for his chiaroscuro themed visual project at the fancy art university he attended.
You knew Jake would’ve a hard time finding any other female (or male) to willingly get naked for him, so you obliged… under the small condition that he wouldn’t try to fuck you afterwards.
Simply put, your infatuation with him always made it easier to agree to whatever stupid favors he needed you to do—
“God,” he groaned under his breath, taking a seat as an attempt to hide the boner slowly growing behind his pants.
“Damn, are they really that bad?” You asked with worried brows, misinterpreting his reaction.
“N-no, not at all,” he corrected, eyes still glued to the camera screen.
“Oh... well… okay then,” you sighed with relief, or maybe it was a yawn?
The studio AC was set to such a low temperature that you couldn't help but feel a little sleepy... especially with how mundane this whole model process was getting to be.
“Can I see the pictures?” You asked, making Jake's eyes widen slightly at your request. He knew it'd be suspicious to say no so he instead gave in, reluctantly handing you the camera.
Clicking the left arrow on the circular directional button, the gallery scrolled, picture after picture, with each slide shocking you with how good they came out.
“Lovely, aren't you?” Jake nearly whispered from behind you as he leaned over the couch, his hands pulling your hair out of the tussled bun he previously styled it in for the first part of the photoshoot.
For the next series of shots, he planned to go for a more natural look, taking your hair down to let it hang as the scent of your shampoo ignited him all over again.
Jake couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hard-on against the back of the couch, eager for any sort of friction that would ease the tension building up inside him.
You felt the teeth of the comb meet your scalp as he continued to comb, the simple act somehow making it even harder for him to control himself.
“You're really talented at this,” you said, just before your eyes glazed over the series of pictures following the one's he'd just taken of you.
Some were from recent trips you took to the supermarket, events you don't fully remember, and even a few scandalous shots of you through your apartment window, changing out of your work clothes—
“Thanks, but I prefer giving credit to the actual person I'm shooting,” he added, looking over your shoulder as you turned the camera off, just before he got a chance to see what you were looking at.
Though, from the almost immediate shift in the studio's aura, Jake had developed a pretty good inkling in his chest as to what you might've seen.
Your throat tensed up, chest expanding slightly with each exhale as a smile grew on Jake's face.
“Just let me know if I'm being too rough, alright?” He started, sectioning out your bangs as his hand slid around your neck, gently cradling your chin upward.
“Jake,” you choked out weakly, a shaky moan slipping past your lips as the comb got caught in a particular knot in your hair, “t-take your time, please...”
You stuttered, hoping in your heart that he wouldn't make a big deal about it.
In truth, you often watched Jake from afar yourself, not being able to get over your obsession with him, even months after you two first broke up…
Your eyes had a way of chasing stolen moments—the curve of his lips as he sipped coffee on his way to class, or the way his personal style slowly changed from denim coats and Timberland's to leather jackets and black boots.
You saw it all, seeking after it as often as you could… using it as a means to coax your own lonely desire for him.
Still, you couldn't quite shake how strange it was to see his gallery filled with images of you from every angle and emotion, even though it eventually delighted you to know that he wasn't as interested in other people as he let on—
“I'm in no rush, ____,” he said plainly, trying to redirect the energy in the room, “just relax for me... I'm not trying to hurt you...”
He chose his words wisely, releasing his hold from around your neck before making his way over to the wall where he dimmed the lights even more.
“I know, Jake,” you nearly whispered, wind flowing from the slightly opened windows as your voice flew with its gust…
“But how long have you been watching me?”
His wrists froze at your question, a mix of relief, guilt, and fear rising within every part of his body.
You turned your gaze towards him, eyes locking to reveal a mirror reflecting your similarly twisted desires, the tension screaming with ambivalence…
“Since we broke up...” He confessed, eerily loud footsteps sending shivers down your spine as he paced against the wooden floor, walking towards you, “does that bother you, love?”
You stammered at first, gentle grasp clinging to the white sheet around you. “It doesn't, Jake... not at all,” you finally mustered, watching as he licked his lips because God, he was such an anxious perv for you...
The way you looked before him in this moment, both fear and recognition present in your features as your body remained still as stone, every natural highlight of your skin looking even more gorgeous beneath the dim lights.
This entire moment was all too much for him… You were too much for him…
Slowly creeping towards you, his intense energy did nothing but make your arms sprout with tiny bumps all over.
“Good,” was all he said at first, trying to digest your body language while freeing himself from his jacket, “but I'm guessing there's something you might wanna come clean about, too, hm?”
“I… yes,” you admitted, somehow regaining your initial confidence, “since you wanna hear me say it so badly... I haven't exactly been able to get over you, either...”
He smirked at your honesty, “How bad has it gotten? The withdrawal, I mean... d'you ever think about me when you touch yourself?”
“Cute, but no...,” you scoffed, “I prefer hands-free fantasizing instead... less mess for me to clean up alone,” you smiled teasingly, tracing the arch of his jawline with your index finger.
It almost felt foreign when you did that just then...
You hadn't touched him like that in months... and even though the act was ordinary, it made you feel something intense—
“I need to take a few more shots of you like this,” he said randomly, reaching for his camera but not sitting on the opposite couch this time.
He stayed right in front of you, joining you on the couch and slightly caging you beneath his frame.
“Trying a new angle I see... these gonna be for your project or—”
“I'm gonna keep these for myself,” he interrupted, snaking his free hand beneath the sheet and lightly caressing the flesh of your thigh before kneading it, dangerously close to your core. “Just make sure you follow my instructions like I asked...”
You nodded at his words, letting your lower body relax as he gently guided your legs open, the sheet falling from over you boobs and exposing them to the air as he grazed your pussy lips with his fingers.
Jake nearly drooled at the sight of your hard nipples, clicking with his tongue to make you look back at the camera. “Start by squeezing your tits together for me,” he started in a low voice, “wanna see how well they’d suffocate my dick…”
The poor guy was still very much hard right now, and it didn't help him one bit with how wet you felt against his fingers, his skilled touch circling your clit as a feathery moan left your lips.
“C’mon pretty, do as I say…” Jake cooed, pointing the camera to you as you did just that, arching your back over the sofa arm while squeezing your tits together, his fingers quickening against your sensitive bud as he kept recording.
You're not sure what came over you just then, but you were starting to feel more than willing to do whatever Jake asked of you, especially when his fingers worked on teasing your initial tightness.
His digits curved against your g-spot, the pressure he applied only escalating as his stiff cock started leaking in his pants.
This entire moment felt strangely nostalgic, reminding you of the many times Jake would stand over while making you cream with just his fingers—
“Tell me when you're close, baby… beg for me to let you come,” he huffed, voice sounding somewhat labored as he intently watched your chest heave up and down, biting his lower lip to stop himself from kissing you.
Because as badly as he wanted to taste you, he had to capture your bliss on camera first, for the nights that memories become too vague... for the nights when fantasies don't compare to the real deal...
Your whole body was a mix of hot and cold, given the temperature of the room and the sexual energy meddling between your excited bodies.
“J-Jake…” you stuttered with a whine, clinging to the couch as your face flushed a ruddy hue, walls desperately clenching around his fingers, “please...l-let me come for you…”
The poor boy didn't know what to do with himself given how wet you were, his puppy-dog eyes looking almost in awe now that the realization had hit him:
He finally got you where he wanted you… and from your perspective, the likewise…
“You can let go now baby,” is all Jake manages to say before you're coming undone, the knot in you abdomen unraveling throughout every limb of your body as pure pleasure coursed through your starved out veins.
Jake kept the camera on your body the entire time, too, his digits only slowing down slightly to help you ride out your high.
He hadn't even fully slipped from your hole yet before a feeling of emptiness washed over you, lust-ridden eyes following Jake’s every move as his veiny hand retreated from your core.
He caught on to it, too... the way your eyes panned in on him like your own built in set of camera lenses... capturing every movement to store in your favorite mental file.
“Fuck,” Jake groaned around his own fingers suddenly, tasting the milky slick he gathered from your hole, “been missing the taste of you so bad, angel...”
“Then kiss me,” you whispered heavily, a clear sheen of Jake's saliva mixed with your sweet release painting the cupid's bow of his pouty lips.
He didn't hesitate to take heed to your words either, setting the camera down with haste before hovering back over you on the couch, not even guiding your face as he kissed your lips, humming into the contact.
The feeling of Jake's sloppy textured tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, his hot breath doing nothing but heat up the warmth already present between your legs.
His heart pounded against his ribs as the kiss continued, his glasses eventually fogging up from how intense the contact was, compelling you to push him away for a seconds to remove his glasses, your own heart fluttering at his flushed demeanor.
“I need to touch you... r-right now,” you choked out breathlessly, not even bothering to cover your naked body now that the sheet was slipping to the floor.
It was a bit awkward at first, you'll admit, being completely naked while Jake was fully clothed. You grew tired of undressing him with your eyes and knew you had to do something about the issue throbbing behind his pants.
Before Jake could even respond, you were already pushing him back against the other side of the couch, his head plopping on the sofa arm with a gentle thud, fluffy brown locks framing his face.
The shadow of a smirk meddled over his handsome features as you eagerly yet patiently worked on unzipping his pants, the thick mound from his clothed hardness making your head spin.
There was really no point in taking things slow with him in this moment because its not like you two haven't already fucked each other before... only difference now was that it had been a while, so the nerves had built up—
“It's so red,” you remarked with a whisper, just having shimmed Jake's pants down enough for you to get his cock out, “does it hurt?”
“I'll let you know once you start touching it,” he let out with a relaxed breath, eyes once again focusing on the way you sat before him with your tits out on full display.
You took his comment as some sort of green light, gently taking his length in your grasp and pumping it in long, drawn out strokes.
His thighs were already trembling, hips grinding up into your first to gain a bit more friction.
“Fuck, stop teasing, ____,” he groaned with half-lidded eyes, wrapping his hand around yours to manually control the pace.
You let out a laugh at his neediness, swatting his hand away so you could take over again, “This is all apart of the foreplay, Jake... you know I'll be riding your cock properly before the night's out, anyways...”
Deep down, you were having just a little too much fun toying around with Jake right now, but given the sexually frustrated furrow of his eyebrows, you decided to be nice and just let him have you already.
Still pumping his shaft in your hand, you sat up on your knees to straddle him, lining up his tip with your entrance before letting your weight sink onto him, struggling to adjust to his size given how long its been since you took him.
A quiet curse fell from Jake's lips as he watched you wiggle past his mushroom tip, his veiny hands reaching forward to help you completely reach his pelvis.
You let out a shaky whimper at the sudden feeling of fullness, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more pained sounds.
“There you go, pretty... nice and easy...” Jake cooed while still gripping the flesh of your hips, mostly because if he didn't, he would've started thrusting into you, “do you wanna stop?”
“N-no,” you practically blurted out, thighs still feeling tense despite how badly you wanted this with him, “I want you to make me cum again, Jakey... I can take it...”
Your words were like magic to his ears, his strong hand guiding your body against his as he left a tender kiss to your cheek before holding you in place, his dick moving in and out of you at a steady pace that escalated in a matter of seconds.
To be honest, you were shocked by Jake's adrenaline, your body already shaking beneath his arms as he held onto you tighter, grunting with each time your desperate walls clenched around him.
His balls bounced to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure, whining frantically at the mix of sensations.
Your eyes started to sprout with tears, damping Jake's shoulder as he fucked against your g-spot, making it nearly impossible for you to hold in your delighted screams.
Pouring out a string of whiny moans, your body subconsciously moved with his hips, Jake catching on to your reactions rather quickly as he whispered a sultry “You like that, baby?” against your neck, your head nodding lazily as you looked into each other's eyes, right before your lips crashed into his.
“I missed this so fucking badly, Jake... 'missed being this close to you,” you let out weakly, one of his thumbs going to wipe the tear of moisture sliding down your face as he kept rutting into you.
“I know, angel,” he panted, kissing you on the center of your lips before pulling back, his tip reaching the furthest its ever been inside your pussy as you rocked your hips against his, wobbly pleas of pleasure slipping past both your lips before you felt yourselves reach your peaks.
“Aww, f-f... shit,” you whined, Jake's hips still pivoting against you despite how strong the orgasm was, your thighs trembling as you felt your walls tighten around him.
“That's it, baby,” Jake cooed through heavy breaths, reeling out more of your pretty moans as he rode out your high for the last time, holding you close to him, “let it all out, angel...”
You let your legs relax, just as Jake sat himself up straight, delicate lips kissing along your jawline as he whispered against your skin, “Now you belong to me again…”
And there it was, two twisted souls basking in the very web of obsession the sewed together, a lost love blossoming yet again from a matter of stolen glances and a series of clandestine photographs bringing you back together again.
You internally yawned at the feeling of Jake's lips against you, his possessive words only making your heart sing as you reached down for the sheet, draping it over both your spent bodies...
“I've always been yours, Jake,” you smiled sincerely, ruffling the hair atop his head before falling back into his embrace, letting yourselves snuggle into the plush cushion of the couch, “even when you left me first...”
▹ Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction and does not intend to romanticize the harmfully obsessive behaviors described between the two characters. Real-life stalking is not okay my guys, so please, don’t be a sasaeng and instead seek healthy relationships !
▹ Perm Taglist ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) : @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr
#𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 🎂#enhypen#enhypen smut#jake smut#jaeyun smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen jake#jake x reader#enhypen ff#jay smut#sunghoon smut#heeseung smut#enhypen x reader#enha imagines#enhypen headcanons#enha scenarios#smut#enha ff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#jake fanfic#sim jaeyun#enhypen jake smut#jake x yn#jake enhypen smut#enha x reader
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Wait wait hear me out PLEASE:
What if price found out someone among the followers, was slowly realizing this whole thing wasn’t just a loving community and instead something… more?
at first, one of his trusted guards (maybe gaz or soap) came up to him and mentioned someone lurking around the gates way too often, or maybe they heard someone talking about “ the outside”,
And just the thought of everything falling apart because of an unruly follower, boiled his blood,
So he asks the guard to show him the person trying to ruin the loving community he had made, and when the guard points to the sweetest girl just walking around, with naivety written all over her, he understood that the “threat” he was so worried about was just a cute little thing with too much time on her hands, and the suspicious behavior was just because of her curiosity
His frown instantly changed into his signature smile that made everyone in the community to adore him, and he decided to have a “talk” with her parents about marrying her off to his most devoted man: simon.
Having a family and a husband to take care of would keep her busy enough for her to stay out of trouble.
And the girl’s parents were unbelievably happy about price’s decision, after all as the leader he knows best for each and every one of them, right?
And so the night before the wedding price gives simon a speech about his duty as a husband to make sure his wife wouldn’t cause any problems and his responsibility to payback the community with kids of his own
and that speech just changed something in simon, he knew that price trusted him and he took pride in that, but this? Gifting him a beautiful wife to mold into a loving member of the community? He was filled with emotions he had never felt before
And so during the wedding ceremony poor simon was holding himself back to not just fuck her right then and there, his mind was completely filled with the thought of his wife walking around pregnant with his kids and helping out the other followers with chores and price praising him for creating such a wonderful family.
(Also ps, i LOVE your writing so so much 🙏, you can ignore my request but i would be so very happy if you didn’t 😢)
anon you have summarised everything I have been trying to capture about this AU fucking perfectly
now come and claim your forehead kiss 😙
c/w: cult!au, arranged marriage, traditional gender roles in relationships, if that’s not your thing then go away, nsfw, masturbation, implied virginity loss, breeding kink
he can’t help the relived sigh that leaves his lips when he comes to realises the big bad threat that everyone was so worried about, was nothing more than a sweet girl like you who just needs a few babies and a house to keep her hands full :(
he could’ve gifted you off to kyle or johnny, with their ladykiller smiles and warm eyes but they’ve got time to fulfill their purpose to the community. plenty of years to find a lovely girl and settle down but simon didn’t have that luxury, and he certainly wasn’t trying to achieve it in anyway
he was perfectly content to stay in his home in the near the woods by himself or keeping himself locked up in the armoury all day, cleaning every nook and cranny of the weapons inventory before dragging his feet home to sleep by himself the same way he’s done for the past decade
he knew simon wouldn’t say no, he didn’t really have a choice anyway. besides, what’ll happen if your curiosity gets the better of you and you figure out that everything really isn’t what it seems? john would really hate to make a lovely girl like you disappear :( he can only afford a few loose ends before people start to get suspicious and he really didn’t see a need to waste one of those on a harmless, bored young woman
simon thought he’d hate this more than he does, but he must admit that walking into his bedroom and seeing his new bride kneeling on the edge of the bed waiting eagerly, really did it for him. he has to tell himself not to rip you apart right there, to taste and appreciate you rather than devour you whole
obsessed with the way you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers digging into the sheets when he pushes into you for the first time. a few quiet squeaks leaving your throat as you adjust to the feel. you don’t expect his gaze to be boring directly into yours when you finally let your eyelids flick open
he’ll hold that eye contact when he slowly drags his hips back, only to bury himself all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust. there’s a tightness in his balls when he watches your mouth form into a little ‘o’ shape after his tip bumps against your cervix
the timidness shared between you doesn’t lessen as time goes on. you fall into a comfortable routine, however. wake up, cook breakfast for your husband, clean whilst he’s at work, have dinner ready when he gets home, wait for him on the bed in your modest nightgown as he showers
it’s like that for a few months until he finally gets the validation he’s been seeking. the way you shuffle up to him, mumbling something about your menstrual cycle being late with warmed cheeks, couldn’t have come sooner. the clap on the back he gets from price is enough to send him spiralling
you pretend to be asleep when you feel your husband’s fingertips dragging over your tummy delicately. you had only just found out but the lack of swell on your pregnancy progress didn’t seem to bother him. he has plenty of time to enjoy your pregnancies pregnancy
and the gradual shift of watching you meekly shuffle around his house, too shy to say a word to him despite him casually spreading your thighs open every night, to a woman that one would comfortably assume was his wife rather than his maid. you’ve begun to make use of all that empty space in his home
he’ll occasionally catch a glimpse of you waddling around, hand resting on the underswell of your belly as you hold a laundry basket on your hip. even though he’s your husband, he had to admit it felt perverted to hide behind a tree, hurriedly jerking his cock to the sight of you hanging his boxers and shirts on the washing line <3
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gf!Shauna Shipman HCs
Pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader
Summary: To be Shauna's girlfriend is… Something else, to say at least.
Word count: 1,4k.
Content: 96’ timeline, cursing, suggestive, kissing, kinda toxic shauna, jealousy, fluff, the team being done with u two.
Note: I think that’s probably a little too long for headcanons but I’m really glad someone asked for it cause I love writing for Shauna sm.
English is not my first language.
- You most likely only spoke to each other because you were paired up on some project in a class that you both hate. A classic, but also one of the few ways for Shauna to actively approach anyone she hasn't known for years or been introduced to by Jackie, the girl isn't very sociable.
- She definitely found the most random and stupid reason possible to not like you at first, just because she enjoys being a little hater.
- Like she doesn't want to meet with you to discuss the topic and just leaves you to do your part alone and you just do it because this quiet girl on the football team is pretty hot and also scares the hell out of you.
- When you guys inevitably put it all together she'd take one look at it and say it's shit and make you do it all from scratch again in like one night as if it was your fault.
- And you simply wouldn't understand why she decided to pick on you. She’d have a beef with you that only exists in her head and you’ll be like??? Wondering why the heck she keeps staring at you like a judging hare even after getting (surprisingly) an A+.
(that’s a strangely accurate description, but you think it fits her perfectly well. Eyes widen following you and nose angrily twitching when you pass by.)
- She has a crush on you. Since the beginning. But she has too many problems to actually admit that to herself.
- She would finally admit that fell for you when she sees you reading something by an author she loves. She's a cliché and a failure, no matter how much she tries to deny it. You'd be in the stands during one of the Yellowjackets' practices (by pure chance, definitely not because you want to watch her too), with a notebook open at your side and a book on your lap, working on an assignment for extra credit, Shauna would see you when she stopped to have some water and she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.
Especially if it was something by Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson or Shirley Jackson. She’d go feral. Seriously.
- Then she finally decides to act (after some suspicious looks from Jackie and screams from Taissa for disturbing everyone during the game) and it's like she was never mean to you. She’ll literally act like she's already your friend because she doesn't know how to apologize and start something properly. Will sit next you in class – and kick out whoever actually sat there – and talk to you normally, looking away and chewing on the end of her pen, speaking in a soft and innocent voice.
- You're very much confused and a little suspicious about all this, but you're not gonna complain about it with her slowly running a hand up your arm and blinking her bright deep eyes at you. Even though she still stares. A lot.
- This is how you get a girlfriend, which isn't really what you expected at all, but it's a pretty welcome change.
- gf!Shauna who only asked you out and took you for a milkshake on your first date, even though she doesn't really like sweets, when she heard Nat tell Van that she was thinking about doing that exactly same thing and finally decided to do something (they did it on purpose, just so that Shauna would stop bothering them with her constant yearning).
- gf!Shauna who accompanies you to all your classes, sometimes even being late for hers. She is so show off carrying your backpack for you and walking close enough for your shoulders to brush and rushing to Jackie's side after opening the door for you.
- gf!Shauna who keeps a hand on you all the time, on your shoulder, on your waist, on your arm, but who is too shy to hold your hand and intertwine your fingers properly. She'll become a mess if you hold her hand in the hallways or in front of the team and pretend like she doesn't like it, complaining that you're being clingy (she won't let you let go of her hand at all though).
- gf!Shauna who is jealous and possessive as fuck, no one is safe from her, not even Jackie. She will shoot daggers with her eyes and scare anyone who even breathes near you in a way that makes her feel insecure. Especially if it's someone on the team. Lottie is usually a recurring target of her reactions, making a point of keeping as much distance as possible from Shauna on the field after she sees her talking to you.
- Will totally pretend not to care and say there's nothing wrong when you ask if she's alright, while silently seething with rage and acting weird towards you, keeping everything to herself until she eventually explodes. gf!Shauna who waits until she's alone to write shit about you and the other person in her diary with a horrible, rushed handwriting.
- gf!Shauna, with whom you have to be really patient.
- gf!Shauna with whom you have study dates where she actually makes you study because she won't admit being with someone with a poor average, but who will start kissing you pretty quick until she ends up straddling you the moment she gets tired and decides you both had enough.
- gf!Shauna who absolutely loves seeing you in the stands during practice or a game. She'll show off like never before as soon as she realizes you've come, especially if you yell or cheer for her when she scores a goal. Nat, Lottie and Tai are rolling eyes hard for you two every single time.
- gf!Shauna who takes you in her car wherever you want and whenever you want, driving with one hand on the steering and an elbow resting on the window. Who looks at you with her big eyes shining like a kicked puppy if you ever say you don't need a ride.
- gf!Shauna who has the worst, most questionable taste in movies ever and who gets outraged if you mention it or try to get her to change her choice on a movie night. She's too stubborn to change her mind, so you settle for admiring her profile and leaning back against her warm body on the couch.
- gf!Shauna with whom you have almost weekly sleepovers because her parents are too oblivious to realize there’s something between you. Sleeping in her bed under the pretext that the floor is too cold and keeping the door closed so as not to bother anyone with your teenage nonsense and loud music. It's the perfect combination.
- gf!Shauna who keeps her favorite polaroids of you on your dates alongside the photos of her and Jackie on her bedroom wall.
- gf!Shauna who's always the big spoon and loves feeling your body against hers. She's practically a furnace, perfect for hiding your face on her neck or chest. The best way to fall asleep is with her arms around you and your face buried in her soft skin.
- gf!Shauna who loves to bite and leave marks for every inch of exposed skin you have. Who bites your shoulder joint and digs her nails into your back when you have her pressed against the mattress or the lockers in the changing room.
- gf!Shauna who goes crazy when she sees you in her clothes, especially her button-down shirts and flannels. Sometimes even hides your clothes just to have the excuse to give you hers, because she doesn't know how to ask you to wear them.
- gf!Shauna who writes cheesy and lame love poems for you like a victorian poet, because she doesn't know how to express herself in words without being on impulse or in a fight. You always praise her and thank her a thousand times for them, without letting her know that you don't understand most of what she writes.
- gf!Shauna who demands you tell her you love her before she does it first. She literally asks for it. And then she only says it back weeks later, rushed and nervous, at the moment you least expect it.
#yellowjackets x reader#shauna shipman x reader#shauna shipman x you#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets show#shauna yellowjackets#shauna shipman#shauna shipman imagine#yellowjackets#denwrites
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I'm in an Eren mood, and just found your bomb fics🫶🏾!! I was wondering if you can do a tomboy/boxer(or weight lifter) reader who has a smart mouth with Eren, they're really competitive and always arguing(jokingly, because they both have smart mouths) it can smut or not whatever you feel🩷🩷
SUCKER.
best friend eren x boxer black reader
warnings: ex jean, eren HATES jean, pussy eating, recording, great sex/mean ren
a/n: doing a part two 🫶🏾
masterlist
Friday night, 11 p.m.
A small gathering was taking place while you were at Connie’s house. Your friends, including your annoying best friend Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Historia, her girlfriend Ymir, and your ex-boyfriend, Jean, were there. Your use of the term ‘friend’ for him is rather polite. You were here, drinking rather than mentally preparing for your match in the upcoming week at home.
You were lying on the couch. Eren lazily leaned his head on your lap, entertaining himself with random Instagram reels on his phone while holding a bottle of Cognac in his unaccompanied hand. Card games were being played by the rest of the crowd to entertain themselves. As you were all quite drunk, Connie made the decision to introduce a drinking game.
“Not gon’ play with them?” He whispers, the sound still rumbling against your exposed thighs.
You sigh, actually contemplating it. You probably would’ve said no if you were sober —scratch that—you definitely would’ve said no. You know that Eren wouldn’t play unless you did. His ego is too big to admit it, but he followed you around like a lost puppy. The only reason he came here was because of you.
“I might. Join me? We should keep a score to see who gets the most points.” You grin, head spinning when you abruptly shift your position.
“Compelling. What kind of points?”
“Isn’t this game like you have to answer a question or drink? I get to drive your beamer for a week if I answer the most questions. And you have to buy me new gloves for my match.” You poke his shoulder as you speak. You see his eyebrows raise up in amusement.
He snorts, “And what do I get if I win?”
“What do you want? And don’t say nothing crazy, I’ll fuck you up.”
At that, he gives an amused laugh, “Girl, please. You can’t even reach my face. Short ass.”
You flick his forehead with your finger, snickering when he groans a bit. “Reached it now, didn’t I?”
“You’re not funny. Nobody laughed, actually.”
“I did. Now, answer the question, fore’ I do it again.”
You get an eye roll and a sly smile on his pink lips as if he has come up with some devious plan. You would’ve started regretting this, but you’re not a quitter. You started this shit, and you’re gonna finish it through.
“You have to do anything I say for a week.”
You suck your teeth, “We not in some video on Pornhub, boy. Be for real.”
“Any video starring you and me in it would have Hollywood rushing to put it on the big screen. You be for real.”
That renders you silent. For a moment, no one says anything. Eren just stares intently into your eyes, waiting for your response.
“.. That’s what you want?”
“That’s what I want.”
There’s nothing much to say after that. You push Eren’s head up so you can stand, ass jiggling in the shorts you were wearing. As if by magic, he follows behind you, with you failing to notice his gaze drifting downwards to give your ass a drooling gaze.
They gathered in the living room and sat in a nearly perfect circle. You opted to seat yourself right next to where Sasha was sitting. Eren, of course, shoved Jean, who was sitting on the opposite side, to sit next to you. You would have said something before you and Jean broke up, but that isn’t your man.
Your relationship with Eren was a source of jealousy for him, leading to your split. For years, you and Eren had been friends; you had practically grown up together. Your moms had been friends, so by default, you two started hanging out every single day since grade school. The two of you were very close, extremely close. You slept in the same bed together; he was your first kiss, and you were his. You even lived in the same apartment.
You’re not oblivious. At least you don’t think you are. It was always clear to you that having a boyfriend would necessitate changes. The act of sleeping in the same bed and cuddling with Eren would necessitate changing. Eren reluctantly understood, but there are times when you wake up in the morning and find him fast asleep on your stomach.
Every day, Jean would complain about Eren being too close to you and how he doesn’t like him living with you. He suggested that you move in with him a month after you started dating. You two hadn’t even fucked yet.
You would never drop Eren, he was too important to you. So, it’s safe to say your relationship with Jean didn’t last long.
You ignore his gaze on you as you giggle at something Sasha said. Connie finally comes back with a stack of cards that say ‘Truth or Drink: Dirty and Sex Edition’ and a bottle of Hennessy.
“Ya’ll know the drill, answer the question, or take a shot. Don’t be pussy, though.” He addresses the group over music playing.
The game gets off to a fast start. The questions began simple, such as ‘Are you a virgin?’ or ‘How many bodies do you have?’ These are not things that should make anyone feel ashamed. Eventually, they became a bit more intimate, at least for you. You had 9 points, and Eren was in the lead with 12 points.
“Your turn, (☆).” Connie addresses you.
After pulling a card from the pile, the next question causes your breath to pause. Swiping the bottle, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the burn this drink will give you.
You’re stopped short by Eren, “Aht— you gotta tell us what the question says.”
“Not important.” You take a sip, gagging when the flavor finally hits your mouth. You’re too occupied to notice Eren quickly removes the card from your lap. When he reads it out loud, you almost choke on your spit.
“Have you ever hooked up with a friend?” In response to the rest of the group’s ‘Ooohs,’ he snickers at you.
You smack his head lightly, “Asshole.”
“Who you fucked, girl?” Sasha pokes at you. The attention is entirely on you, causing your face to flush in embarrassment.
“I plead the fifth.”
“Was it Eren?” Jean’s voice prompts a quick turn of your head. He looked so angry, so ticked that he could explode if you said one wrong word. You answered to avoid causing a scene,
“No.”
You’re nearly afraid to look at Eren, yet you realize he’s staring at you. His gaze was burning on the side of your face, making you squirm. Jean’s scoffing shows he didn’t believe you, but you’re not here to argue with your ex. Connie recognizes that you no longer want to talk about it, so he turns the spotlight on him when he pulls another card.
You’re about to send a grateful glance to him for that, but your body stiffens when Eren whispers in your ear,
“You just gonna lie to him like that?”
You grit your teeth, keeping your voice as low as possible, “Shut up.”
“What, you gonna protect his feelings?” Eren’s energy is condescending and irritable, to say the least.
“I’m protecting your frail ass ego. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you when I tell them you didn’t even make me cum.” You lie through your teeth, smirking, thinking you won.
You almost yelp when you feel a pinch on the side of your hips, “C’mon, mama. Your body never lies, especially not to me. Remember those pretty moans clear as day— ‘Oh, daddy! Right there— gonna cu-’”
Your hand covers his mouth, and you’re about to smack him again when you feel that stupid, cunning smile against your hand. You pause and sigh in relief when you realize that no one has heard him, as they’re too preoccupied with Sasha, who’s indulging in the bottle. No one except Jean, who’s practically seething in anger as he glares at Eren.
- -
It was now one in the morning. Most people were passed out because of how drunk they were. Only you, Eren, and Jean were awake, with Jean nearing sleep while staring at his phone. It goes without saying that Eren won the bet; he had no shame when it came to his sexual innuendos.
You’re about to get up from your seat on the floor, but Eren’s grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. You try to look at him but realize he’s not even paying attention to you. Instead, his eyes are intently focused on the shorts you’re wearing with a frown.
“You good?” You speak, thinking that your sudden voice will dislodge his gaze.
“Hmm. These shorts aren’t easy access.”
That’s the message the liquors are trying to convey -- it must be. You and Eren only slept together once, but you assured him that it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again to keep your friendship intact. He handled it well, perhaps too well. Almost like he was expecting you to say that. As if you hadn’t experienced heaven on Earth that night, you both returned to your normal lives.
“Eren, there are people here.” You whisper rather harshly.
He unbuttons the only button on your garments, “I don’t see anyone.”
“Jean is right there.”
“..Anyone important.”
Your eyes widen when he plays with the hem of your peaking panties now that your shorts are loose. He’s so stealthy with it, too, like he’s not doing anything wrong. You have to snap out of it when you realize you’re in a room full of friends. You slap his hand,
“We’re not doing this here.”
His response is quick, “Oh, so if we weren’t here, you would?”
“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it somewhere else?” Jean is downright peeved by the sexual tension that is erupting between you two. At this point, he’s just annoyed. Annoyed that his suspicions were confirmed. You two are definitely more than just friends.
You freeze, failing to remember that he was still awake for a moment.
“Jean, it’s not like that-”
“It is like that. I might take you up on that offer, Jean boy.” Eren abruptly ends your sentence with a gleaming smile, making it clear that he’s only trying to annoy him. He’s petty like that. You’re tempted to hit him again.
“No, it’s not. Stop being petty-”
Eren turns to you abruptly, eyes zeroed in on your lips. His voice is purposely loud so Jean can hear precisely what he’s saying to you. “Will you let me eat your pussy again if we leave here, (☆)?”
You gasp, your pussy tightening a bit at how desperate his tone is. You really want to say yes, but you know that’s the liquor talking. It has to be. Jean scoffs, pulling you out of your daze.
You scowl and push his hands off you, “I’m leaving, and I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”
When you stumble to stand, he watches you, his eyes fixed on the fatness of your ass and its movement. These shorts are a favorite of his. He sighs, his lips twitching as he speaks,
“Can I-”
“No.” And with that, you stumble off to the room, making sure to lock the door behind you.
Eren makes the decision to return to the couch in the living room to sleep. Jean’s eyes never leave him all the time, and when he catches him staring, he doesn’t fail to stare back,
“The fuck are you looking at?”
Monday afternoon, 3 p.m.
“Imma be real with you. I’m all for equality and shit, but seriously, you hit like a girl.”
The deep voice of your best friend flutters in your ears as you throw another punch at the hand he’s holding up. You’re both in the boxing ring at your local gym, practicing for your next match.
As always, your best friend is there to help you and throw some lighthearted insults your way.
“Eren, please don’t get fucked up.”
He gives a laugh, a genuine one that makes you roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? With those weak ass hits? Forgive me if I’m not shaking in my shoes right now.”
You throw another hit at his wrapped-up hand, harder this time. You can tell by the way his unwavering hands move a little. You grit your teeth at the fact that he doesn’t wholly stumble back.
“Yo,’ ass was damn sure shaking in your shoes when I almost folded you.”
“So, we lying now?” That little smirk that was forming on his face never backed down.
It almost irritates you how arrogant he is. Connie and Eren always get into these friendly play fights, never anything serious. But that’s just your best friend. If anything, you would probably chew up any other person with your mouth. Connie, for example. Not Eren, though; he always had something to say back.
“Every word that comes out your mouth is a lie.” Your whisper
“You not any better.”
You hit his hand again, “Now, what the hell are you yapping about.”
“Why would you lie to your little boyfriend yesterday?” His voice is low and calculated as he questions you. He was getting heated again.
“Ex. And I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to tell the man who’s been worried about us the entire time we dated that I got your dick wet.”
“Dated. Past tense. So, why the fuck are you worried about it?” Now, he holds your hands to prevent you from moving.
You huff, “I’m not rude, Eren. I have no beef with the man. Now, let’s keep practicing, please.”
You think he’s going to release your hands, but he only stares at you. Your heart is racing. Does he really feel upset about this?
It seems he is because Eren pulls your body out of the ring and drags you to the nearest locker room. The gym is closed today, only opened to the two of you because he’s friends with the owner. Now that he has you to himself, he has no worries about anyone ruining this moment.
You would have protested; your resolve is usually stronger than this. But it’s Eren. Your Eren. Your best friend who happens to be really good with his tongue, his fingers, and that absolute monster in between his legs.
Fuck it feels so electric when his tongue laps in between your wet folds, your body squirming on the bench he seated you on. You can’t stop twitching, your arousal just overflowing on his tongue.
“Thought this was a mistake? ‘It can never happen again’, that’s what you said right?” He lightly bites on your clit, relishing in the gasp you emit.
“Look at you now, letting it happen again.”
He pushes two fingers past your walls and rapidly moves them in and out, grazing your spongy spot. They’re curling inside you, and with every stroke, you feel yourself falling more into a haze. Your eyes start crossing as Eren stirs up your insides.
You whimper out, “S-Shut up. Shitt.”
“Oh, no. You’re gonna listen t’me today. Maybe we should send a video to Jean, show him everything he could never do to you.”
You hate yourself for it, but the thought of it gets you even wetter for some reason. With the way your best friend chuckles against your core as the squelching sounds coming from you get louder, he can tell, too. Your pretty brown pussy is just splashing on his face, he’s in love with it— in love with you.
He rasps out breathily, “Wet my face, baby.”
Your face twists as he works his fingers against your cervix. The sounds coming from you are simply divine. The heat in your stomach is palpable, and the heat in every crevice of your body is sizzling and electrified.
“Want me to fuck you, right? Cum then, (☆).”
It’s as if your body knows what he’s saying because you release immediately. Your body shakes when you squirt. Your addicting juices spraying all over his fingers— his face. Eren slurps up everything you have to offer, and its sounds are just so obscene that you’re sure anyone would know what’s going on if they just walked by the door. Your loud moans would probably give it away, too.
Eren deliberately takes his time creeping up to your panting lips and pulling his thick fingers out of your walls. Your breath is sucked out of your lungs when he kisses your lips. The taste of your essence makes your pussy drip as he sucks on your tongue. You love it, so drunk off the taste of him.
You frantically pull his hips onto yours, unaware that he’s already pulled his dick out. It’s not much for his tip to force itself inside of you. He has to do most of the work to fuck the rest of his inches in. You’re gasping against his lips, trying to moan, but he won’t let you. Every time, he swallows them.
It’s torture. He’s so thick that it stings a little. He gets a little impatient and slams into you all at once. Screaming in a muffled voice, you quickly press your hands on his stomach. He’s making your pussy sing some nasty noises that make you feel so good.
You’re squirming your body as Eren starts feeding you gut-punching stokes. That won’t do.
With a harsh grip on your wrists, he pushes them above your head with one hand. “I couldn’t make you cum, right?”
You huff, your eyes rolling back in your head when he abuses your cervix. It’s too late for you to realize when Eren takes out your phone. He knows your password and keeps thrusting in you when he opens Jean’s message thread. He scoffs when he realizes you haven’t yet blocked and deleted his number.
That catches your attention as your eyes struggle to settle on him, “W-What are you doing?”
He shuts you up by speeding up his movements. Shit. You almost choke on your spit when he leans his body on you so hard your legs are reaching your ears. The only inkling you get that he’s recording is when your ears catch on the sound it makes when he presses that red button.
You don’t stop him or even struggle against his hold. You can only morph your face into pleasurable expressions as he makes you feel euphoria. He sets your phone on the wall behind the bench, and he can see it’s showcasing the both of you. Good.
Eren, let’s go of your wrists to use both hands to press on the back of your thighs into the wood underneath you. You feel him deeper this way, his bulge pressing against your stomach every time his tip touches your womb. He finds joy in the fact that the camera captured that.
“Ren— baby— I’m g-gonna make another mess.” You whine, pressing on his stomach to stave off your impending orgasm—it does nothing. Nothing, but make him push harder so you can feel how deep he’s going.
“Go on then. Show the camera how messy you get for me and only me.”
Your breathing stutters, “Only you— fuckkk. S’too m-much”
“You love me, baby?”
You cum right then, choking on your moans as you barely get your words out, “Love you so much.”
He groans against your ears when he fills your pussy with his seed. It’s so much, too, so thick, you feel as if it’s coming out your throat. This is what you craved the most, the feeling of his cum stuffing you. You’ve dreamed about this since he did it for the first time.
Feeling worn out, you are basking in the afterglow while breathing heavily. Eren never takes his dick out of you, but he takes this moment to end the video and quickly sends it to Jean with a small message accompanying it,
she lied, lol. 😂
#eren yeager x black reader#eren yeager fluff#eren yeager smut#aot eren#eren jeager x reader#eren smut#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren jeager#eren yeager x black reader smut#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirstein#connie x black y/n#connie aot#ymir aot#historia#armin x reader#mikasa x reader#mikasa aot
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i can’t stop thinking about lottieshauna. are they kind of a controversial pairing, sure. do i care? no. like come on. shauna falling for lottie after the beating?? all these intense emotions just confusing her gay little brain. like all the pain she felt before, and then the way she just felt so much better afterwards? shauna’s brain just makes a silly little connection of like oh, lottie makes me feel good. and she wants more. she thinks that lottie is the only one that could continue to make her feel better so she continues to seek her out.
i got way too carried away with this so more under the cut
like ive just been thinking about shauna’s first attempt to go see lottie afterwards, cause there’s just something pulling her to her. she tries to sneak upstairs but misty catches her before she can even make it half way up the ladder. “what are you doing?” misty's voice is already accusatory. “i was just trying to see how she was doing,” shauna says defensively. “she’s fine,” misty dismisses her, it would be over her dead body that she'd allow shauna anywhere near lottie right now. that much is obvious.
luckily, shauna's second attempt is successful. days have past and by this point the swelling of lottie's face has gone down and the damage shauna left on her remains in mainly cuts and bruises. everyone is asleep, or trying to be, and misty is downstairs, shauna wonders if that means lottie is alone.
the wood boards creek under her feet. once. twice. making her cringe every time. she doesn't want to draw anyone's attentions to her, especially not misty's.
lottie isn't sleeping when shauna finally gets to her. she's just laying there on the cold floor in the moon-lit room staring at the ceiling. nights are lighter in the winter time. the white of the snow illuminates the night more than the green of the trees in summer. so shauna can really see it all. she wishes it was summer for yet another reason. because she can see the fear that instinctively flashes in lottie's eyes when she sits on the floor close enough that shauna's knee lightly brushes against lottie's side.
"you're awake," shauna whispers as her fingers twitch to reach out to touch lottie's face. she tries to hold them still in her lap, failing to keep her hands from shaking. she wants to say she's sorry. im sorry. im sorry. im sorry. it's dancing on her tongue but she can't bring herself to say it. it's pathetic. it's not enough. sorry isn't going to fix this. she'd look like a fool if she spoke those words.
"so are you," lottie's voice is raspy and weak and it tears through shauna in ways that remind her of jackie's death.
"i wanted to see you," she admits sheepishly.
"oh," lottie's response has no hint of emotion to it, shauna hates that she can't figure out how she feels. "why?"
lottie's gaze moves to shauna for the first time since she got here, and for a split second shauna wishes it hadn't. because when her deep brown eyes meet lottie's she can see that the whites of her eyes are blood red and it makes shauna sick with worry. but the seconds that follow are even worse. she can see the pain in those eyes, almost as much pain as she would see were she to find her reflection. it's not physical. it's worse than that. it's the kind of pain that will stay with her for a long time.
shauna, being too busy lost in lottie's eyes, forgets she is supposed to say something, so lottie speaks for her, "i underestimated your strength," it's a solid attempt to joke in the midst of all of this. it's not something shauna was expecting, but it's something shauna welcomed. a glimmer of light in the darkness she pulled them into. her darkness, now shared by the two of them. shauna's burden is lighter to carry now that she has shared it with the girl lying bruised and bloodied before her.
shauna's smile is weak, and lottie knows she regrets what she did. regrets just how far it went. she knows the girl is afraid and in so much pain. and lottie knows that shauna is sorry. she doesn't need her to say it.
her hand feels heavy, like she hasn't moved it in weeks. maybe she hasn't. but this time she does, and she does so to reach for shauna's shaking hands that rest in her lap. lottie's hands are hot and shauna's are freezing cold and they both gladly accept what the other has to give.
lottie uses her strength to give shauna's hand a squeeze, of reassurance, maybe, of mutual understand. it's okay. you'll be okay. we'll be okay.
it's a weak squeeze because lottie is weak, and tired and in pain. shauna squeezes her hand back, an understanding. it's weak because shauna doesn't want to hurt lottie any more than she already has.
#they get married and live happily ever after fyi#yellowjackets#wlw#lesbian#shauna shipman#lottie matthews#lottieshauna#shaunalottie
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Jason Todd and Percy Jackson parallels but by someone who actually reads comics and was technically never a Harry P*tter kid so it's accurate
Black hair,green eyes and supernatural white streak combo
Poor and hate rich people even though they ended up gaining a rich dad and refuse to actively associate with him on principal
Said dad's inflicted brutal trauma on them(though to Bruce's credit it was an accident and he genuinely loves Jason while Poseidon's just a deadbeat who refuse to parent Percy to keep us his 'image' because that's 'women's aka Sally's work',grown ass god)so they claim their mom as their only parent and are just huge mama's people in general,which is perfectly understandable even on it's own considering their mom's are fucking TALIA AL-GHUL AND SALLY JACKSON.Who wouldn't?
Respect women,disrespect men
The EXACT SAME sardonic and little shit attitude and created their own type of sense's of humor that can only be described by using their names to be truly accurate
Physical inability to not run their mouths dating way back to when they were little kids,closed off not out of fragile masculinity(I mean Jason's goth and Percy's a transfem egg so?)but as defense mechanisms,have anger issues and merciless tendencies and complex feelings on morality because of heavy life experiences due to being screwed over by the system as minorities(poor,neurodivergent and Percy's transfemininity she won't even let herself admit)and can be scary as shit when they do and don't want to
Punks with the ideals,behavior,lifestyles and interests you'd expect but also super dorky ones on all fronts too
Don't actively pursue romance and the thought of doing so is VERY unppealing to them and they dunk on romance norms like the true punks they are and they DO have good canon ships but sadly none endgame(Jayrose,Jaytemis and Jaydana are banger after banger after BANGER but DC hates Jason so they won't let him enter his malewife era and Perachel was the best ship for Percy but got shafted for the sake of ruining Annabeth)
They refuse to be normal in general because conformity disgusts them but also they just kinda.Can't turn the weirdness off,ever(It's their bptistic swag)
Ethan=Rose.Wasians with an eyepatch because their abusive god(ish)parent took their eye out,gloomy and moody,swords users,were groomed into the villain life as little kids and never considered real love interests for Percy and Jason despite tons of chemistry via bickering flirtatious banter and 'I really do care about you' undertones.Their heritage and unpalpability as victims undoubtedly plays a role in this as Luke and Slade are the easy and accepatable villains to stan as opposed to the oh so horrific and unlovable realistic survivors
Super chaotic and unrestrained
Team Parents because of childhood trauma and they did fumble a bit at first out of lack of experience but now they've got it downpat
Huge love for food that's not good for you(i.e fast/junk/desserts)
Make a big show when they're feeling particularly cocky or want to intimidate and it's real easy for them to thanks to experience and being able to walk the walk for the shit they talk
Claimed by afro-caribbeans and we're right and should say it(Those are monoracial dominican third gen iminigrants ma'am)
Get horndog allegations,are actually demisexual and don't care about white boys or white girls when it comes to attraction(Percy's canon namesake was married to the Princess of Ethopia and Jason hates Roy and barely cares about Tim,please be serious)
Or when it comes to platonic relathionships!!If they're to be a trinity the perfect 3rd is Miles Morales like how Hazel is Nico and Percy's and Jason's Robin and Batgirl are Duke and Stephanie and he wouldn't have it any other way
There's a significant difference that makes them all the more interesting together though-Jason's story is a selfmade tragedy where he choose hurt and darkness and even evil again and again for a long ass time until his redemption arc that he actually worked for and Percy's is that she's NEVER done anything wrong in her entire fucking life,she DIDN'T mean to hurt anyone,she WAS a good,good kid and she grew up to be an even better adult who's good at so many good things and good to so many people.Jason is Percy's legit foil and deserves that title more than any fascistic misogynist character does
They're the son of no one and the daughter of Poseidon and Sally Jackson.Them(and the 1610 Spiderman)are my characters ever
#percy and jason#jason todd#percy jackson#afrolatino jason supremacy#black percy#latino percy#trans jason todd#transfem percy jackson#autistic jason todd#autistic percy jackson#goth punk jason todd#batfam#ditf#lost days#utrh#rhato#the outlaws#dead sidekicks force#pjo#hoo#tods#the anomalies#jaysumm#perlex#batfanon slander#💌#summerposting
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𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟏]
𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k
𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲
the ambiance of the hospital could be summed up in three words: sterile, quiet, and tense.
the sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air while the quiet hum of machinery and the occasional beep of monitors provided a backdrop to hushed conversations and footsteps.
ning never thought she’d end up in a hospital. however given her circumstance, it was obviously inevitable. obviously drinking and taking molly was obviously not the best idea.
you stayed by the idol’s side while jimin and minjeong explained to ning what had happened to her. it was a long conversation, but you didn’t pay attention to most of it. you were too focused on the iv in ningning’s arm and the sound of her heartbeat playing on machines.
there were countless nights you spent in close proximity with the idol, but you felt like memorizing her features as she sat next to you.
eventually, the other members exited the room to give yizhuo her rest. you stood up to take your leave as well, but before you could exit the room, ningning spoke out.
“why did you come with them?”
silence wasn’t able to fill the room due to the machines present, but there was a tension that seemed to thicken after the obvious was spoken.
slowly, you turned to face the chinese girl. you didn’t even like the idea of her being in a hospital bed, let alone feeling like it was your fault. you had to remind yourself that it wasn’t. after all, you didn’t know of ning’s true feelings.
or even your own, for that matter.
“because i was worried.”
yizhuo’s eyes softened at your words, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usual confident demeanor. she looked down at the iv in her arm, her fingers lightly tracing the tube. she didn’t like that you were here because of what she had done.
“why?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “i didn't want to drag you into this," she added, her voice tinged with regret.
“you're not dragging me into anything. i chose to be here because,” you paused while yizhuo's gaze met yours, and for a moment, she felt her heart stop. yours was beating out of your chest, but you knew you had to at least say something about how you felt.
“i care about you. we all do. but especially me.”
nothing could’ve prepared ning for those words coming out of your mouth. she had daydreamed and fantasized about you saying you cared. but for some reason, it didn’t feel real hearing it out loud in reality.
“especially you?” she repeated, her tone almost hopeful. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment. it wasn’t anything outstanding, but it was the truth.
you cared about ning yizhuo. and she cared about you.
“yes, especially me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don't know what i'd do if something happened to you.”
it was quiet. ningning didn’t know what to do. she hated the quiet, but right now, it was the only thing keeping her emotions at bay. she knew this moment wasn’t one she wanted to mess up like the last times.
not like the night at the club, or another night in her bedroom. she didn’t want your conversation to go like any of the other times she was a coward and ran from her feelings.
she wanted to make this go right.
her eyes showed the conflict and hesitation in them. even you could see how her emotions were brewing. “i don't want to mess this up," she admitted, her voice trembling. “i don’t want you to hate me.”
all her life, yizhuo never had someone who willingly wanted to be there for her. sure, her members were there for her, but they started out as co-workers and then became friends.
you were the only person who wanted to be there for her from the start.
while you stood there, you couldn’t help but feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in ningning's voice, and you reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face.
“ning, i could never hate you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “i care about you too much for that.”
the idol’s gaze softened, and she reached out to grasp your hand, holding onto it. part of her never wanted to let it go.
“thank you,” she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude and something more profound. “for everything.”
you squeezed her hand gently, feeling a sense of warmth and connection between you. “anytime, ning,” you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “i'm here for you, always.”
her gaze softened as she looked at you, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. she didn’t want you to leave yet.
“can you stay with me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “while i sleep, i mean.”
your heart skipped a beat at her request, and you nodded without hesitation. you didn’t want to leave her yet, either. “of course,” you replied softly, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “i'll be right here.”
she gave you a grateful smile, her fingers tightening around yours. “thank you,” she murmured as she pulled you into her side. the aespa member pulled the hospital bed’s blanket over the both of you. you grabbed your phone and quickly checked the time before shutting your phone off.
her eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion finally caught up with her. as she drifted off to sleep, her breathing gradually became steady and even. you watched over her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you sat by her bedside, your presence a silent promise of comfort for the girl.
in that quiet hospital room, amidst the soft glow of the evening light and the steady rhythm of ningning's breathing, you knew that this was where you belonged.
by her side, through thick and thin, one step at a time.
𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777
CLOSED.
#ningning#ning yizhuo#ningning x reader#aespa x reader#aespa#aespa fic#kpop fic#karina#winter#giselle#gxg#wlw#kpop#groupie love#perfectsunlight
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Sometimes I think about how fem versions of male characters are more popular than if the character had canonically been a girl and remained entirely unchanged except now she's a girl, and I die a little inside. I used to ask if people would love female characters more if they were men, but lately I also ask myself if anyone would care about some of these male characters if they were canonically women, and I have to sigh
#I really should pick up writing for The Lemon again because this has been driving me insane#if a fem version of a character or ship changes their personalities that much then it's not even the characters anymore#but there are female characters who are AMAZING and honestly better characters or ships than a lot of the popular men#and yet I know the male characters wouldn't be popular if they were canonically girls#and vice versa#and it SUCKS but I guess that's why I'm writing my own food!#unrelated but I'm thinking about all the people who randomly hated some of my Tales fave girls#and then admitted they only hated them because they were girls.#but they'd love them if they were men#but bleh whatever. anyways I love yuri#I got carried away here but I'm just TIREDDDDDD
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something about being told im 'the leading person at this whole academy when it comes to interpretation and stage intelligence' by the husband of the woman im trying (not really. but i mean. who knows) to seduce... ok boy you got me. lets make it a polycule.
#im playing it all cool and funny now but atm i legit burst into tears lol#like he said i have a 'good voice too of course' but i know realistically that is not my strongest asset#and even if i were technically perfect. which im NOT lol. the voice itself is just nothing special. it's there ig but that's about it#but its nice to know i may not be 100% useless after all#(just 90%)#also apparently the most feared and respected professor who came to the concert said. again. that he likes me the most.#which again. crying real actual tears about this all rn this means literally the world to me this is everything i have#and i have no one to share this with because im not gonna say it to my uni friend cause i dont want her to feel like im boasting or sth#(even tho she has no such qualms herself but probably because i know how. not great. it feels when someone keeps talking about themselves#and about how great they are and how easy everything is for them. i dont wanna do it back at her.#well there's also the fact that i dont think im great and this is not fucking easy to me at all lol#but idk i think the difference between us is that she actually admitted she sees no point in singing if she cant show off (thus she hates#the duet we're singing because she sings the lower part and cant show off her high notes or coloratura.#which is like. an insane take to me. i mean it i get it. kinda. if i had a voice like hers maybe id be like that too fuck knows.#but that just feels so. idk. sad to me. so self obsessed and empty. like you dont care about the music itself? about you being a part of it?#also immediately made singing with her not fun anymore. i thought we were creating something TOGETHER. but thanks for the confirmation#that you only really care about being 'better than'. yikes.#like idk this behaviour is funny and iconic in old school opera legends like yes go bite each others dicks off.#but it hits completely different when it's your own colleague let alone your friend. like damn girl. damn)#) anyway. the husband is kinda hot too now that i think of it. i really should seduce them both.#except its realistically not possible since they've both seen me cry now (she saw it like a hundred times lol)#so ive lost the hot and mysterious card alas. no uni professors romance for me
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Ur so new to this its making me giggle. also you should share more I need to Know
gloomy I can't stress enough how bad I am at this. once we got past stats and I had to actually come up with real character things it was awful. dragged kicking and screaming through character creation. also I'm realizing as I type this how little I still have in mind for this character bc I never even decided what gender they are. we've been referring to them interchangeably as "my new cringfail losergirl oc" and "my new weird little guy"
#gonna be real though it’s probably a girl. and she'll be a lesbian. why would I ever choose anything else#ok but she doesn't even have a name yet. idk how to name things that is gonna suck#she's a blacksmith though. and a tiefling druid but I think you saw me tell theo that already in the replies of the other post#and she has a fascination with fire bc I got in a projecting mood#and that sounds stupid as hell I hate saying that actually bc it makes me think of that very annoying internet time#where every single gay person on tiktok was like “ooh be gay do crime!! arson!! mother mother!!”#but I cannot stress enough this is a genuine trait of mine if you leave me with a lighter and something flammable#I will set it on fire just to watch it burn#my family won't let me light birthday candles because they don't like giving me lighters#I set a paper towel on fire in our camper once when no one was in there#and then they went in later and were like “why does it smell like smoke in here?”#and I had to admit I lit a paper towel on fire#AND THEY WOULD NOT LET IT GO!!#they rag on me about it all the time like “rori you were gonna light our camper on fire!!”#and I have to be like “NO I PUT IT IN THE SINK”#but yeah saying oh here's my lesbian who likes fire sounds stupid and annoying but that's. that's a genuine trait of mine#anyway also as for the oc creation taking 5 hours. I will say I was doing this on discord call with several people#and only ONE of them was actually helping me in character creation. so the conversation kept getting sidetracked by everyone#we debated on if a hotdog was a sandwich at some point (it is)#ask#gloomybirdie#hi gloomy!
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the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.
sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.
you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.
it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.
but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.
they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.
they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.
barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.
and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.
but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.
they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!
this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.
#this shifts gender so much bc it actually affects everyone#yes it's a gendered phenomenon. i have written a LOT about how different genders experience it. that's for a different post.#writeblr#ps my comments about seeing someone cry -- this is not to shame any person#and on this blog we support workers.#at the same time it's a really hard experience to see someone that looks like you. clearly in agony. and have them forced to keep going.#when you're young it doesn't necessarily look like acting. it looks scary. and that's what this is about - the fact that teens#have likely already been exposed to that definition of things. because the internet exists#and without the context of healthy education. THAT is the image burned into their minds about what it looks like.#it's also just one of those personal nuanced biases -#at 19 i thought it was normal to be in pain. to cry. to not-like-it. that it should be perfunctory.#it was what i had seen.#and it didn't help that my religious upbringing was like . 'yeah that's what you get for premarital. but also for the reference#we do think you should never actually enjoy it lol'#so like the point im making is that ppl get exposed to that stuff without the context of something more tender#and assume .... 'oh. so it's fine i am not enjoying myself'. and i know they do because I DID.#he was my first boyfriend. how was i supposed to know any different#i didn't even have the mental wherewithal to realize im a lesbian . like THAT used to suffering.
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───〃★ WE F⍣CK OFF & ON, OFF & ON .ᐟ
〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ As the campus’s well known f⍣ckboy, Satoru Gojo wasn’t known to stick around for more than one night in one bed. Well, that unspoken rule just didn’t apply when the bed was yours.
〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, uni au, smut (mdni), protected s⍣x, f⍣ckboy!gojo, hair pulling, p⍣ssywhipped!gojo, mentions of alc⍣hol & bein’ drunk, dirty talk, slight dumbification.
〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ Thank you so freaking much for 1.5K!!! 🥹
Absolutely unbearable.
If there was any way to describe the campus fuckboy, it’d be that.
He was known—infamous for his unique way of fucking women and somehow leaving them attached, yearning for him once more after just one night, while he only left unscathed with his balls empty.
Satoru Gojo was insatiable. And you hated him.
You failed to see what everyone saw in him—he was a total idiot for fucks sake! Granted, he had a pretty face and could be quite charming, and you really couldn’t say for yourself if he was that good in bed, but good things about him paled in comparison to his horrid personality. He knew how attractive he was, and used that any chance he got.
How did he manage to talk his way into and out of anything? You simply didn’t know. But you hated him.
That was…until you yourself finally had a taste of Satoru Gojo.
Drunk at a party and so utterly wasted, you’d failed to acknowledge who was hitting on you, who you got into the taxi with to drive back to who knows where. His hands all over you—so rough yet inviting, even after the alcohol in your system had gone you still found yourself pulled into a trance.
A trance that seemingly pushed you to his bed and under him. Seemingly had you moaning his name all night and for more to come.
And seemingly, now, opening the door to your apartment so he could come in. So he could come in and fuck you like he’s been doing for the past months. Well, that’s just what he thought would happen anyway.
“Satoru,” you huffed, watching as the tall freak plopped himself onto your couch, momentarily jerking his head back before he responded with a hum.
“Can you stop acting like a fool and try not to break anything for once?” You chastised, pointing to a hand of his already playing with the flowers in your prized vase—he hadn’t given you those and had no right to taint them.
The white haired man groaned, rolling his eyes and following you down the narrow hallway to your bedroom. Your steps halted at the doorway and so did his, a low snicker leaving his lips as his hands slid to your waist.
“So,” he sighed in your ear, brushing his soft lips past the skin of your neck, big hands squeezing the flesh of your ass as he snaked them down. “Y’just gonna keep on being grumpy or you gonna let me fuck?”
“Satoru,” you exasperated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, though you didn’t dare take his hands off your body, already surrendering to the feeling. “Just because we’ve been fucking doesn’t mean that I only invite you here because of that.”
You turned around to face him. “We have a project to do, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll start after I start.”
And what was Satoru’s definition of that?
It was pushing your head further down into your pillows as he absolutely ravished your cunt, simultaneously holding both your hands back with just one of his.
His thrusts were deep and calculated—to the point where it felt like he knew where every pleasurable spot inside you was. Perhaps he did.
“Dick’s got you all quiet now, hm?” he smirks, sliding his free hand up your back and to your head, pulling your hair back as he speaks. By then you were a drooling mess and as much as you’d hate to admit it—you’re practically dumb on his cock, moaning incoherent little babbles of his name and how big he feels.
Satoru grins behind you, smug because he’s got you, the most prim and proper girl on campus choking on her own saliva. It all felt so surreal, you felt surreal—your soft hips, the succulent ripple of your ass as his hips connected to it, your moans—fuck everything you did was driving him crazy. Even though it was supposed to be the other way around.
He was the one who was supposed to be ingrained in your brain—but here he was, inches deep inside your wet, reeling pussy after he swore the last time he was in your apartment would be the last.
But there’s always a reoccurring cycle with you. He just can’t stop.
“Hah—mph—slow down, S’toru!” you mewl, fat tears swelling in your waterline, your ears perking up at the rhythmic plap! plap! plap! of your sweaty bodies colliding. “If ‘m too loud my neighbors might hear,”
“Yeah? Let them hear how good I’m makin’ you feel then,” he breathes, shallow and unsteady, his toned chest moving in tandem with his inhales. The deep tremble of his voice seems to move throughout your body, vibrating through you in such a maddening way that you’re almost cumming from the feeling alone.
What was even more provoking was the way he pulsed against your gummy walls, thumping and pulsing inside you loud enough that it seemed you could hear it.
And—god was Satoru close, so close he could feel the static of his high zap though his fingers. He groaned, head thrown back in bliss as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so deliciously.
Your head was spinning from the mind-dizzying pleasure, eyes rolling back in what Satoru can only admit is the most remarkable expression he’s gotten out of anyone he’s fucked.
His hair was sticking to his forehead now, sweaty from how fast he was working to thrust into you at his abnormal pace. “Can I—“
“No.”
A defeated sigh and a pained grunt as he pulled out just as he was about to teeter off the edge of pleasure, taking himself in his hands and finishing the job. Satoru jerked himself as he watched you shake and convulse in euphoria, your body unwinding as you let your limbs go limp.
Cum seeped from your pussy, dripping down to your clit and sheets—and that sight was all he needed before his hot seed was spurting all over your back, the sensation causing a broken cry to leave your lips.
“Fuck,” Satoru mouthed, breathing hard as he gave your ass little smacks of approval. “That was—shit—so good.”
You nodded, head turning to the side as you watched him take off his cum-filled condom, and dump it in the trash. Satoru plopped back on your bed once he was done.
A smirk graced his lips and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing nothing good could come out of that look.
“When do you think we could do it raw, hm?”
“When you get tested for every type of STD.”
#ꔫ : ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌⎯ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍#jjk fic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo fluff#satoru smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#jjk satoru#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru x you
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Being obsessed with lando’s biceps that he has little bruises on his inner arms from love bites or when you bight his arms during rough sex. One day he stretches on stream and everyone sees them.
A/N: Same anon, same I also made this silly, because this is just so cute and something silly that would happen to him
"Baby," Lando whines when you lean over on the couch and bite his arm. It wasn't hard, it never was. You just were, in love with his arms. He didn't mind that you would do it, if anything he was obsessed with it in a way only he would be.
You once bit him so hard during sex, and you didn't even mean too it was just one of those nights that everything went blind and you just bite down. He hates to admit it, but that was probably the hardest he's ever came.
In a little box filled with your toys and his, you had some Polaroids of you with some love marks but his neck, chest, and arms were littered with your love bites on him. You loved taking pictures of him and he's be smiling brightly at you.
"What?" You ask, kissing the new bruise that had him chuckling and leaning over kissing the top of your head as he goes back to gaming on the consule. "You going to stream today?" You ask, and he hums ndding his head as he fixes his hat, putting it on backwards.
You can't help yourself and lean over placing another bite, because cause how can you not. Lando was wearing a black shirt with some joggers and his hat was backwards. His necklace that you loved seeing in your face was peaking out. He looked so hot, so you let yourself bite your boyfriend.
He laughs and waves you off admiring the new mark as he moves and lays on top of you blowing raspberries on your neck which has you screaming and laughing cause it tickles. "Animal," He grumbles and pokes your stomach which has you almost pee yourself cause you're laughing so hard.
"I'm going to stream my little vampire, so control those urges while I go stream with the guys," Lando leans down, giving you a kiss as you giggle and nod, quickly pulling up Twitch.
--------
"Fuck off Ginge," Lando laughs, leaning back in his chair as he stretches. His shirt rolls up showing off the bite marks on his waist and the ones littering his arms. "Jesus, Lando, dating a vampire mate?" Your face goes bright red as Lando quickly snaps down and laughs nervously.
"I got bruised in training." He blurts, trying to think of an excuse which has you dying of embarrassment, the texts from your friends and his rolling in on your phone.
"Training for what? How to make your girl-" "OKAY! We're done here for the day, I hope everyone has a good day!" Lando quickly closes the stream and you hear his loud groan down the hall and then he appears, a playful glare on his face.
"Maybe I should return the favor." "Lando, no!" You laugh as your boyfriend pounces on you.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 one shot#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris oneshot#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic
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There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend—not that he’s liked any of your past relationships over the years, but this one he’s more vocal about—with a name not worth remembering. Matt? Martin?
He’d stopped trying after his first week back from work.
“I don’t fucking trust him,” he says one night while at the pub right under your apartment; it’s become a weekly ritual of sorts when he’s on leave ever since meeting you there on Soap’s birthday several years back.
“You say that about every guy I have you meet,” you tell him in that know-it-all voice that you always use with him. “You hardly even know him, and his name’s Marcus, by the way. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”
He snorts. “Love, the bloke would put his cock in anyone with tits and a warm cunt.”
“He wouldn’t,” your voice is soft because maybe you already know.
He would.
You’re so fucking oblivious that you don’t even realize this, but there’s nothing except stars in your eyes whenever you look at (or even talk about) the Naval officer who thinks he’s some bigshot because he can fly a plane.
Even now, at your boyfriend’s promotion after-party in some back alley nightclub, he’s hardly talked to you or offered to get you a drink. You’re always too nervous to order one by yourself, and only Simon—tall and imposing standing beside you—could have the grumpiest bartender reach for the blender to make a blended cocktail.
When he comes back with your drink—too big fingers unfolding the tiny umbrella for you—he watches your boyfriend (Marcus) flirt with a girl in a tight leather dress on the other side of the room. It’s that moment that he decides he’s tired of you giving your attention to someone who doesn’t deserve it, tired of you lying belly up for men who only want to sink their teeth into you and leave once they’ve had their fill.
He likes to think he’s a pretty good friend—opening your eyes to something better is a job he takes rather seriously.
“It’s just a bit of fun,” he says after coming back with your third margarita, a small amount of frothy liquid sloshing over the side when he sets it down in front of you. “It’s okay to want it.”
You bite your lip, eyes dropping down to where he’s patting his thigh. “Just fun?”
“Yes, love.” He smiles. “Just fun.”
Let me.
Whether you’re tipsier than he thought or he’s just really persuasive, it’s easy to get you crawling into his lap in the corner of the cracked leather booth. His hands wander the span of your smooth thighs where your short skirt doesn’t reach, and he muffles a groan in your shoulder when you start squirming against the tent in his jeans.
You say his name like a warning when his hands find their way under your skirt, yet you’re biting back a moan and don’t tell him to stop.
Simon undoes his jeans and shifts them down before pushing up the back of your skirt and adjusting your hips to watch the tip of his dick slide between the covered cleft of your ass. Nobody in the room can see what the both of you are doing with your skirt fanning around his lap, but someone could if they were truly looking, and that has him tugging your panties to the side so he can feel you.
"Your boyfriend is too stupid to realize you're sitting here riding my lap. What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"
“W-wait, Simon!” you squeak. “What if he sees—”
He’s almost tempted to roll his eyes at your blind devotion—I’ll deal with it—dealing with it would be him making sure the prick never tries talking to you again.
Then, his fingers, like iron at your hips, jerk you back to impale you on his cock. "Fuck," he says, voice trembling around the edges.
“O-oh! It’s too—ah—too big!”
He wraps a hand around the slender slope of your throat, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh as he pulls you back until his lips are at your ear, nose pressing into the soft skin of your cheek. “Come on, love. I know you can take the whole thing. Right inside this tight cunt.”
Simon thrusts into you shallowly, just the tip going in and out, and you whine, little fingers scrabbling at his wrist—gasping and shivering and bucking in the trap of his arms.
A smirk curls at the edges of his mouth when he finally bottoms out in your hot-wet cunt for your boyfriend to see from the other side of the room. He'd laugh at how his jaw drops, but he can only manage little choked intakes of air at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him.
“Squeeze my cock for me—fuck, there you go.” He presses a kiss below your ear and reaches down to pet your soaked clit with his thumb. Feels the moment you realize that your boyfriend is watching when you tense up.
“I’ll deal with it,” he says again and again until you’re melting into him, thighs trembling around his. “Promise. I promise…”
I apologize if you see this again! I was trying to edit it, and it wouldn't format right with the gif. You can find part two here.
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#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#ghost x reader#cod imagine#mw2 imagine#mw2 x reader#ghost smut#cod x reader#cod smut#mw2 smut#.things i write
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HATE SEX WITH GETO PLEASE 😭😭🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾
contains: fem reader, spanking, choking, manhandling, hate fucking, rough sex, dirty talk, cheating, spanking, bathroom sex, angst w/ no comfort, proceed with caution :3
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
Just thinking about hate sex with ex-boyfriend Geto. You received a video from an unknown number a couple months ago of your boyfriend at the club, big arms slung around two pretty girls as one ground on him under the flashing lights and blaring music of the club. The video was short, but it was all you needed to see. You forwarded the video to Geto, captioned with the words, "fuck you."
The night he went out he told you he was having a guy's night out with Gojo, so imagine your surprise when you woke up to him acting like a whore in public. You still did never find out who sent you that video. Geto spent days blowing up your phone, using your mutual friends to try and talk to you, even going as far to show up to your house, but you rejected all of his advances.
After about a month and a half, when things had calmed down and it was evident to the both of you that your relationship was well over, you finally started going out again. The reason it took you so long? The two of you were in the same friend group. There's a reason they say to date outside of your circle, for situations exactly like this.
Your big debut back into your circle of friends was a night out clubbing. Gojo, Shoko, Utahime, and Nanami were sitting on the plush cushions around you. The only reason you agreed to go out with them tonight was because Shoko had promised Geto wouldn't be there, saying he was stuck at work. Truthfully though, Shoko had missed you so much in the group outings, that she would've found a way to drag you out of the house even if Geto was going to be there.
"This is nice, I'll admit. I missed you guys." You said, working on your second cocktail of the night. Drinks always tasted better when Gojo paid. "Awww~ I don't know how you went so long without seeing me, honestly~" Gojo teased, ruffling your hair in the process. You swatted his hand away, fixing your hair while you shot him a nasty side-eye. "Us, he meant US." Utahime corrected, placing her hand on your knee while also shooting daggers at Gojo.
Gojo stuck out his tongue at Utahime, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the cushions, his arms spreading out behind you and Nanami on the top of the couch. "It's true though, it's nice having you here," Nanami added a light blush dusting on his face from how many drinks he had already downed; he must not have work tomorrow. "Thank you Nanami." you smiled at him before leaning back, crossing your legs over one another, your short black dress riding up your thighs slightly in the process.
"I've been so pent up all month, this feels so good." You giggled, tipping your head over as you directed your words to the girls. "Yeah? I know how you can feel even better." Shoko smirked, sipping on her straight vodka. Utahime smiled giddily, leaning her body forward in interest as she also waited for Shoko to speak. "Blondie over there at the bar has been eyeing you up since we got here, go talk to him." She nudged, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
You have been wound up in more ways than one since you and Geto had broken up. He always dicked you down so good, you would miss that. Who knows though, maybe blondie with the nice jawline and pretty face would give you good pipe in the bathroom. You eye him up, biting your lip as you dragged your eyes over his sturdy frame, only noticing he had been watching you oogle him like a slab of meat the whole time when you went to rake your eyes over his handsome face. He smiled, his dimples showing themselves as they dug into his cheeks, fuck he was hot. This was the perfect guy to use to get over Geto, screw that cheater.
"Oh shitt~ Look at them eye fucking each other~ Haha!" Gojo laughed, sipping on his sweet, non-alcoholic, bright pink drink. You turned your head to smirk at Gojo before you placed your hand on his shoulder and used it to push yourself off the seat. "You're really going for it?" Shoko asked incredulously, giggling behind your hand as you smoothed out your dress. "Why not? I'm horny and single, and a hot man is looking at me like I'm the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on." You said, smiling down at your friends.
"That's because you are," Shoko added, grabbing your thigh for leverage she spun you around to face the man behind you sitting on the barstools, waiting for you to approach him. "I would be jealous If I liked men, he's a cutie." She laughed to Utahime as she watched you take a deep breath and walk off toward the man.
You walked through the club with confidence, a heartbeat already forming behind your panties as you got closer and closer, watching the way he eyed up your body as you walked. "Friends talked some sense into you, huh?" The man spoke when you got within ear shot. You took the seat next to him, plopping down on the barstool you spun the seat around to face him, your legs slotting together with one another as you placed your heel-clad feet on the bottom of his barstool.
His eyes darted down to your legs, watching you insert yourself into his space with confidence. "Too shy to come up to me yourself?" You asked, placing your hand on his knee as you rubbed circles against his pants, making him swallow the lump in his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face with how bold you were being. "You kidding? Those guys you're with are fucking repellent. Didn't know if you were with one of them or not." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink to ease his nerves.
"But you were watching me anyways?" You teased, keeping your eyes locked onto his. He took in a deep breath, pressing his lips together as before he spoke. "You have no idea what you look like, huh?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "Who wouldn't be able to resist looking at someone like you?" His words sent shivers down your spine, you needed to get him in a bathroom stall with you hours ago. As the two of you continued flirting with one another, eyefucking each other as you sipped on your respective drinks, someone unexpected entered the club.
"Heyy." Geto's voice echoed into your friend's ears. The dark-haired man was half up, half down in his signature bun, one hand tucked into his pocket while his other was held up in front of him, waving to his friends. "Hey troublemaker~" Gojo smiled largely. Shoko groaned along with Utahime. "Thought you couldn't make it?" Nanami asked as he slid in next to him on the couch, spreading his long legs out on the cushions as he took Nanami's drink from him, taking a gulp.
"Got off early, thought I might come by." He responded, laughing when a drunk Nanami snatched his drink back from Geto, muttering to order his own drink. "Come by my ass, you work on the other side of town." Shoko laughed incredulously, adding that you were not going to be very happy. "She's here?" Geto asked, his demeanor immediately perking up. Shoko looked to Utahime knowingly before she looked back to Geto, hissing air in through her teeth.
"Yes cheater~ Of course she's here, and she's about to score by the looks of it." Shoko laughed, making Gojo whistle as he dragged his gaze to you, watching you pull your head back from the whispering something in the mans ear before his lips moved, head moving in tandem as you slid off of the barstool, taking his larger hand in his as you dragged him away from the seat, making him place his drink down on the bar top, abandoning it as you dragged him away to the bathroom.
Geto had just watched the entire scene unfold in front of him that the rest of them had seen. Of course, Geto had come here for you. Shoko was right, he worked almost half an hour away from the club, he was exhausted from work but when he saw you say in the group chat you were going to be here, he knew he had to make a detour. He knew he fucked up when he lied to you about going to the club, but truthfully he had done nothing more than let a couple girls fawn over him, grinding on him while they peppered kisses on his cheeks, never coming close to his mouth.
He still loved you, of course, he did, but you had been adamant about not seeing him at all for almost two months. He hadn't really given up, he would never give up on trying to get you back, he just figured maybe a little break and letting you calm down would lead you back to him. Clearly, he was wrong as he watched you maneuver your way through the crowd, dragging some man you met five minutes prior away to fuck, looking good as all hell.
He grits his teeth, pressing his feet firmly on the floor Geto was on the move in a heartbeat, no one could stop him. "Oh look what you did." Nanami huffed, looking at Shoko. "She's gonna be fucking pissed you know." Shoko's jaw was on the floor. She severely underestimated the amount of balls Suguru Geto had. "How the fuck was I supposed to know he was gonna go chase after her???" She said, looking at him with an expression that almost resembled horror, making Gojo laugh his ass off between them.
Once you made it to the secluded corner of the club just outside the bathrooms, you spun your body around, wrapping your arms around the man. "You wanna fuck me?" You whispered into his ear, feeling his large hands wrap around your waist, his knee sliding between your legs. He groaned at your words, staring between your lips and your pretty eyes as you bit your lip at him, "Fuck yeah, pretty girl." He smiled, shaking his head as he leaned in for a kiss.
You closed your eyes, waiting for a sensation against your lips that never came. Your eyes shot open when he yelled out an exasperated "Hey! What the fuck!" His lips loosened on your waist as he was dragged away from you by a strong grip on his hair. "Geto?!" You yelled, spinning your body to look at him, your body heating up with rage combined with the neglect of pleasure. "Who the fuck are you?!" The blond-haired man yelled, trying to grip Geto's wrist to make him release the hold he had on his hair.
"Her boyfriend." He deadpanned, throwing him in the direction of the club as he reached his hand over your head, pushing the door open behind you, forcing you into the small bathroom with his large frame, leaving you no time to refute. "I didn't know man, fuck!" The man's voice was cut off as the bathroom door shut behind the two of you, Geto's hand coming down to lock the door, leaving you alone in the personal bathroom.
"What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, shoving his chest back, Geto not even moving a muscle as his jaw muscles bulged out under the weight of his clenching teeth, his dark eyes watching you fume. "What the fuck were you doing?" Geto responded, walking toward you slowly, making you step back unconsciously, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. "Why is that any of your fucking business?" You spat, almost laughing at his audacity.
"We never officially broke up." Geto retorted, clenching his fists by his sides. "Oh! Oho!" You laughed, "Excuse me, allow me to make it official for you, we are fucking done." You dug your nail into his chest, squinting your eyes as you looked into his, your tall heels making you feel more confident as your height difference wasn't as dramatic now. "Thought I made it pretty fucking clear when I didn't respond to you for almost two months, but you always were pretty dense." You huffed, backing away from him once you got your point across.
"Were you just trying to get even with me? Huh? Thought fucking some random guy in the club like a slut would make you feel better about yourself?" He yelled, continuing to walk toward you until your back hit the wall, making you jolt, you hadn't even realized you were walking backward. "The fuck did you call me?" You asked, scrunching your eyebrows together. "You're such a fucking hypocrite, acting like that wasn't exactly what you did to me." You laughed again. You felt like you were going crazy, why was he acting like you were the one in the wrong here?
"I never fucked them! Never! Maybe if you answered my fucking calls or looked at my texts you would know that!" He shouted, getting in your face. You shook your head, looking at him with disdain. "Oh, because letting girls dry hump you is so much fucking better, right?" You yelled back, the ghost of a smile gracing your features, you were so done with him.
"God you really are the worst." You spat, your eyes shooting daggers into his own. "How the fuck are you gonna make up for scaring that guy off, huh?" You asked, tilting your head at him, making his eyes lock onto yours once more. Geto cocked his head at you, clearly uncomfortable with you mentioning the blonde stranger, knowing damn well you meant you were going to fuck him, and now you were left dry.
You scoffed, "What? Don't like the thought of me getting off on someone else's cock? Moaning someone else's name? Huh? That shit make you mad?" You got in his face, keeping your squinted eyes on his dark ones. Geto doesn't know what came over him, but he couldn't stand to hear you talk anymore. His lips were on yours, swallowing your surprised moans, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth, crushing his jaw into yours, your head bumping into the wall behind you.
You were still mad as hell, but his lips felt so familiar, your arousal crept up through the cracks of your irritation and made you kiss him back harder, fighting him for dominance. His hand came to grab your throat, squeezing harshly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin, making you whine into the kiss. He was never this rough with you, and you were loving it.
He pulled back, his free hand coming down to undo his belt quickly, pulling the leather through the loops as he threw it somewhere on the floor of the filthy bathroom floor, "Don't you ever talk about someone else fucking you in front of me." He growled, squeezing your throat to emphasize his words, You smiled through the lack of oxygen, little black dots clouding your vision, but you still felt the need to fight back. "Fuck you." You whispered.
Geto spun you around in one swift movement, making you face the wall, your hands coming to brace against the brick as you felt him lift your skirt over the curve of your ass, your panties being roughly yanked down midway on your thighs. Everything was happening so quickly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins only fueling your arousal. You knew this was not a good idea, but your body was too weak to Geto.
Geto shook his head as his eyes came into contact with your dripping pussy. He bit his lip between his teeth, pulling his cock out through his pants as he gave himself a couple rough strokes, his hand sliding down to your ass as he rubbed his thumb through your folds, spreading them and rubbing your wetness around before he dipped the digit into your hole, slowly pumping in and out. He was absolutely fuming at the thought of you giving this to someone else, he wondered if you had in the time you haven't been talking.
"You this wet from that fucking loser, or from me yelling at you?" Geto asked, pulling his thumb back to leave a rough smirk on your ass, pushing his hips forward as he rubbed his tip along your folds, getting his cock slick with your juices. "You're so full of yourself, shoulda seen the way he was touching me under the table." You giggled, turning your head to the side to look at him. You kept your words vague on purpose to piss Geto off. He had been touching you under the table, but only your thigh.
"You fucking slut." Geto grit through his teeth, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck, his fingers pinching your skin with how hard he was gripping you. "And you still wanna fuck me." You laughed, the noise getting cut short when he pushed his cock into you all at once with zero warning, keeping his balls pressed to your ass as he let his cock throb inside your walls still, his back pressing agaisnt your chest as he leaned into your ear, his deep voice whispering, "That's enough out of you." His voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.
"Fuck!" you yelled when he pulled his hips back before he bullied his cock back into your unprepped walls, stretching you open as he meanly fucked you against the wall. "Shit- Think he could fuck you better than me? Huh?" Geto asked, leaning back as he pressed the back of your neck into the wall, his other hand holding under your hip as he held you in an arch, the pace of his hips making your knees squeeze together, bending slightly at the stimulation.
You brought one of your hands down between your thighs to rub little circles into your clit, your eyes crossing at the feeling. Geto must have felt how tight you got because he groaned through his teeth, his hand leaving your hip for a moment to come down to leave a harsh smack on your ass. "Fuck- I don't know, heh- If you didn't interrupt me I w-would've found out. He shook his head, smiling through the malice he felt coursing through his veins. "You're such a fucking brat." Smack, "Just sayin' that shit to get me worked up so I'll fuck you like the whore you are."
You wanted to hit him back every time he slapped your ass. Sure, it felt good, but you knew he was trying to put you in your place, so the action made a vein pop out on your forehead. You were so glad he couldn't see your face right now. Your words might've been sharp and snarky, but your face was flushed red and your eyes were rolling back in your head every time his fat cock thrust right against your sweet spot deep inside you, the one only he could reach. "I-I hate you-" You moaned out between his mean thrusts.
You heard him coo in response, his hand leaning the back of your neck so he could grip your waist with both hands and yank you back on his cock harder, fucking whines from your lips. "Don't talk to me like that baby, hurts my feelings~" Geto retorted, his jaw dropping in a small o when you rubbed your clit harder at his words, making your hole clench around him so tightly it felt like you were trying to milk him of all he was worth.
"Would you really be squeezing me this tight if you hated me? Hmm?" He teased, practically slamming your ass back on his pelvis, loud squelching noises bouncing off the walls. Thank god you were in this loud-ass club or everyone would know exactly what was going on, not like you really cared. "Shut up and fuck m-me." You responded curtly, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on reaching your high, timing your finger rubbing circles against your clit with his thrusts inside you.
"That's what I'm doing, dumb s-slut." Geto groaned, dropping his gaze to where the two of you were connected, feeling a warmth in his stomach bloom at the white ring of cum that had formed around the base of his dick. "Godd pussy is fucking milking me- you cant survive without me, need me- need this dick." Geto spoke between rough thrusts, his own words working himself up as he felt his high creep over him.
You grit your teeth at his words, moans spilling from your lips without your permission. He was fucking the shit out of you, you don't think he's ever been so rough before. His words, his hips, his hands, all of it, so fucking rough, and it was quickly working you up to your orgasm. You were too overwhelmed, tears started forming in your eyes with all of the stimulation and emotion you were feeling. He was hammering into your g-spot, making your legs shake uncontrollably.
"God- fuck- Gonna make me cum inside my pussy, my fucking pussy-" Geto babbled, shaking his head as he tried to get a peek at your face, noticing how you had bitten your lip between your teeth, tears streaming down your face. "Fuck, you crying? Feels that good?" He laughed. You didn't want him to know how good you were feeling, didn't want him to know his words were true; you couldn't live without him or his dick. His cock alone was literally fucking tears out of your eyes, it was so intense.
"Not gonna speak huh? Fine, stay quiet then." Your ex-boyfriend huffed, looking down at your pussy stretched around his girth as he fucked himself to his orgasm, you close behind him. "Shit- shit I'm coming- take it baby fu-ck~" Geto groaned, leaning over your back, burring his face into your neck. You felt his teeth dig into your neck when you felt the first rope of his warm seed shoot inside you, making your orgasm crash over you.
The two of you rode your highs out together, Geto's hips weakly and unceremoniously thrusting into your sopping cunt, working you through your orgasms. Geto jerked against your body, his strong hands wrapping around your torso as he kept you pressed against him, unloading his cum into your abused pussy. You whimpered into the wall, feeling his teeth leave your neck when he started coming down from his high, his face keeping its place in your neck.
The two of you stayed quiet for a while, relishing in the silence save for the dull booming of the club music echoing through the walls of the bathroom. Geto's hands were petting the skin of your hips, and for just a moment, you let yourself think everything was okay, losing yourself in the feeling; until he spoke. "I am sorry you know. So fucking sorry." He whispered into your neck, not daring to move.
You heaved out a sigh, pushing his arms off of you. You reached behind you and pushed his pelvis back, wincing in overstimulation when his softened cock slid out of your walls, his cum chasing after him, making your face scrunch at the uncomfortable feeling. "That wasn't what this was." You responded coldly. Bending down you pulled your panties up, keeping his cum snug inside you.
You turned around to watch him open your mouth, to which you held your hand up, stopping him; amazed when he actually listened. You pushed past him, bumping his shoulder in the process. Without another word, you unlocked the bathroom door and on shaky legs, left the small room and out into the nightclub to find Shoko and Utahime and get the hell out of there. Geto sighed deeply, tipping his head back as he stared at the ceiling before he closed his eyes, feeling the remorse wash over him, "fuck."
#jjk smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#angst#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu geto#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#geto suguru#getou suguru smut#geto x y/n#geto suguru drabble#getou suguru x you#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru#satoru gojo#gojo
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
series masterlist
this series is 18+
warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously
a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life.
Neither of you speak.
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything.
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue.
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again.
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on.
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away.
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes.
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted.
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart.
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands.
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry.
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces.
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied.
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears.
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed.
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding.
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for.
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath.
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond.
“Love you back?”
You blink.
Your stomach drops.
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself.
What a way to make an exit from your relationship.
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something.
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know.
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp.
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions.
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable.
He swallows.
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice.
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her.
“Wait.”
He says your name.
And of course you pause.
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle.
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?”
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again.
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring.
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about.
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break.
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly.
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink.
And for some reason, begin sobbing.
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in.
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath.
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper.
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty.
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly.
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this.
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes. “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft.
“How could I not be so in love with you?”
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold.
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw.
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat.
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog.
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone.
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder.
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up.
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning.
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him.
Spencer kisses you on the cheek.
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is.
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room.
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on.
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand.
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other.
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy.
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this.
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets.
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC.
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly.
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes.
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck.
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs.
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon.
And he’s laughing.
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall.
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige.
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all.
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip.
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face.
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same.
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own.
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips.
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately.
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first.
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology.
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly.
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth.
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you.
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth.
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak.
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him.
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back.
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly.
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too.
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight.
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would.
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly.
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours.
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel.
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks.
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee.
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now.
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy.
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming.
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him.
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his.
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart.
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall.
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet.
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours.
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod.
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier.
“Hey.”
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly.
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would.
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised.
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case.
But at the same time—everything’s different.
And you won’t make the same mistake twice.
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face.
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all.
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top.
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled.
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage.
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you.
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement.
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself.
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest.
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs.
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
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