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#Everything is just so pretty i wanted to make a gif set about it
qiwoomi · 3 days
Text
gender reveal
gojo x fem! pregnant reader
established relationship (married), fluff, comfort, pregnancy, overall just gojo being the best hubby, not proofread so it might be cringe, inspired from a video I came across
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The weather was nice, a perfect day for a picnic.
And what's better is the fact that you can finally spend time alone with the love of your life, Gojo Satoru.
He does most of the work, setting up the mat, making sure to put another on them to make sure that you're comfortable as he knows how much you hate feeling the prickly grass under you.
"Do you want me to help?" You muttered softly, sitting on a foldable chair as you watch admire Satoru. He flashed a charming smile at you, finally done with everything as he approaches you. "My pretty baby shouldn't lift a hand at all, having you here is already enough." He kissed your ring finger, making you fall over him again.
You slightly pout, before he gently pull you up from the chair, his hand behind your back as he guides you to sit on the mat. "It's not a big deal though, I can do it still." I mumbled, as Satoru opened the basket to reveal various type of food.
"It's a big deal for me." He chuckled, carefully taking out the food out of the basket as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.
Comfortable silence lingered for a while, as you observed the nature around you. The birds singing, the winds breeze, the scent of nature around you, and most importantly your husband. Your hand caressed your stomach, as your eyes landed on the cake that Satoru just take out.
"Ohoho, I didn't know you brought us a cake." He mused, licking the cream from his finger as you lightly swatted his hand. "Well that, I haven't tell you for a reason." You muttered, as Satoru turned his attention to you.
"Hm, what is it about baby?" He cooed, noticing the slight change in your tone.
"Remember when I talked about doing a gender reveal?" You start, as Satoru hummed at your words. "Well, it's today." You blurt out, waiting for his reaction. It took a while for your words to click, as Satoru beamed at the announcement.
"Really?! Aww love, you could've tell me though I would want to help you." He kissed your cheek, as you brought out two glasses for the occasion. "Sorry, I just thought that it would be more intimate if we do gender reveal just between us..." You sniffled, hormones kicking in.
The sight of his wife crying makes him feel sorry, as he brings you closer to his chest while you sobbed. "No baby, it's fine. I was just surprised is all. I agree that it would be better if it's just for the two of us." He comforted, as he wiped away your tears.
He offered a smile at you, your tears calming down. "Now let's do it yeah? I can't wait to find out." He pressed another kiss on your forehead, making you smile at him.
"Okay... Here, we should scoop the glass on the cake and whatever color we got is going to be the gender." You explained, handing him the glass as you countdown from 3.
Satoru decided to close his eyes, scooping the cake and opened his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed at the color. "Yellow?" He muttered, looking at you as your eyes started tearing up again.
"No, it was supposed to be either pink or blue." You mumbled, tearing up at the fact that you messed up. This is a very important moment, and somehow you managed to mess up the coloring. It was supposed to be pink.
Satoru frowned at your distress, calming you down by caressing your hair as he hugs you. "Hey, it's okay baby. There's nothing wrong with it." He whispered in your ear, consoling you through your dissappointment. "I tried my best." You cried, as Satoru only wiped the tears from your beautiful face.
"There there, I know you did baby." He softly cooed, letting you cry your heart out. "We could do it another way you know? Maybe you can feed me either blueberries or strawberry while I close my eye, do you want it?" He suggested, calming you down as you nodded at him.
"Okay..." You mumbled through puffy eyes, it was a shame that your hormone got the best of you today, out of any other day. "Alright baby, I'm closing my eyes. Blueberry is boy and strawberry is going to be girl okay?" He reassured as he starts to close his eyes while you nod.
You start picking a strawberry from on top of the cake, feeding him as you smiled, waiting for his reaction. He munched on them for a good few, as he finally opened his eyes and hug you.
"We're having a girl?!" He exclaimed, pulling you into his embrace as he beamed at you, a wide smile on his face. You happily nodded at him, as he peppered kisses all over you face at the confirmation.
"My love, thank you so much! I love you so much." He chuckled, happy at the reveal. He knew it. He knew he was going to be a girl dad.
"I love you too... I feed you two strawberries you know.. " You added, hinting at something as it finally clicked on him.
"Oh. My. God! We're having twins as well?" He exclaimed, which makes you giddy as you smiled widely at him, nodding at him.
"My wife, I'm the luckiest man ever." He dramatically declared as he give you another kiss, long enough to render you speechless.
The picnic ended full of affections. It is the start of your journey in building life together with him, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
author's note: sorry if I'm not actively uploading stuffs, I figured that I shouldn't force myself to write when I don't want to and instead make it like a hobby of mine. :) i don't want to burn myself out again (because that had happened b4)
© @qiwoomi
est. 300524
do not copy, translate or repost my work.
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haerni · 24 hours
Text
🎱 ` DON’T WANNA BE FOOL, WANNA BE COOL
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syn. wherein nishimura riki has the biggest crush on you, but why would he tell you that? right?
fem reader , fluff , ni-ki is kind of emotionally constipated minimal proofread , word count. 1.0k + hes so ahhhhhhh i love him in fatal trouble :(
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you’re an idiot, ni-ki thinks.
and he does not mean that in any demeaning way, he could never—even if he used to call you that back then, but it’s different now. he’s not calling you an idiot for forgetting your umbrella when it’s pouring out on your way home or your jacket when you get cold and you’re pestering him to give his own. or even when you ask him something outrageously stupid and he couldn’t even find it in himself to say no.
no, ni-ki thinks you’re an idiot for not picking up on the hints he’s been giving you, since last month.
it’s outright a painful situation to watch, especially for him. even your close friends see it, just how can a person be this oblivious anyways?
he thinks he might be sick, because one day he feels his stomach suddenly flipping upside and down when you’re resting your head on his shoulders. you’ve been doing this since the both of you were six, what’s wrong with him?
this was just you being you, just another day the both of you shared—just another day with you. he might be going insane, he surmised. and now his waking and ending days are all now by the memory of you. his mondays were not a mundane that just happens like it did in the ones that has passed.
mondays were your dreadful days and it was his seventh heaven.
here you were, in front of him so close, he can feel you, he can touch you, he can bask in the warmth you always shine on, but he can’t have you like how lovers do. he can’t kiss you that would ever be deemed less than what you are right now.
he wanted to hold you like the gross couples you both cringe at, he wants to take you out and have you dress pretty for him, he wants to show you off, he wants to call you those petnames you’ve always wanted to be called. he wants you to be his and to be called yours.
nishimura riki wanted everything and almost all of you.
and no matter how cheesy it sounds, he wants it all at once.
maybe it was how the sun sets in the horizon or the breeze that blows your hair astray or that stupid laugh that somehow sounds like his favorite song or slamming of his heart that he can hear pounding in his ears—that somehow just makes him forget the lines he shouldn’t cross.
“stop looking at me like that.” your voice takes him out of his reverie. maybe he has been so lost in his head, he didn’t even notice you have stopped rambling about your weekend.
the air shifts almost as if the world just got a little smaller and the bubble you both share just felt suffocating—pressuring even.
he tilts he head quizzically, “what do you mean?”
“i don’t know...” you muttered.
you know it, you know it is there—that feeling you have been trying to avoid. the feeling you have tried so hard to bury, to ignore or to even acknowledge. because why would you? why would you entertain these estranged feelings when there is uncertainty to the answer to its question?
ni-ki has never been more afraid of whatever is next to come out of your lips. he can’t speak, you have rendered him worried. your words almost feel like a rose that might hurt him by its thorns or the petals that fall just the same that bloomed from his chest. he waits for you to continue in anticipation, his hands were clammy, the increasing pace of his heart was so loud, he hopes that you can’t hear it.
you took a short breath, almost as if you were being robbed of it at this moment, like you cannot breathe, “...you look at me as if you want me.”
my god, you aren’t wrong, ni-ki thinks now.
and when you don’t hear any response from his it compels you to fill the silence that consumes everything in your soul.
“you look at me as if you want to kiss me and i don—”
“—i do.” he answers almost all too immediately, his brain going haywire. and that was all there it was.
“what? stop messing around, ni-ki.”
what.. is this real? nishimura riki, the same boy who kept teasing you back in grade school likes you? riki, the boy who held out his hand to you when you slipped on the stairs while delivering some stupid papers to your teacher. ni-ki, the boy who would always carry you on his back on the way home just because you want to. the boy who have pinky promise you for life when you were six, the same boy you have been crushing on, likes you back.
nishimura riki, your best friend of a decade just admitted he wants to kiss you—more than normal friends do.
he breathes out, mustering up the courage, “i mean it, idiot. i have been for so long.” he says matter of factly, “..so, can i?”
he likes likes you that way.
“please—”
that was the word he only needed and he closes the distance as quickly as he can. oh how sweet your lips were, depravity—your lips almost felt like he had been depraved all of these years. it was sweet, tingling and fleeting. but he was happy nonetheless, it was not how the movies go, but it just the way he would have you everytime.
so please, take his heart and use it as much as you will. because he did promise you before to devote everything he has.
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+ extra.
“who even confesses and calls their crush an idiot!” you huffed.
“i do and that’s because you’re an idiot.” he pokes your forehead playfully. “i was dropping hints everywhere and you couldn’t see it.”
“what hints, riki? oh my god, did you think staring at me like that was flirting?”
he couldn’t answer or think of an excuse to that.
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ᰔ — likes & reblogs are always highly appreciated! i hope i did ni-ki some justice T^T
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0cta9on · 3 days
Note
Hey Bro✌️, I really love your snippet of minji on previous reply, from her cute reaction during make-out session and her cuddle habit🤭. Your style of going for a vanilla approach on her was the best ever.
Have you seen the clip of her wearing this bro?🫣 A freaking one piece clothing 🫢. I'm like " Put some clothes on Miss"😂. Just imagine...
"One special night where she surprised you, the side of her you have never seen before, she hesitated at first but she thinks you deserve it"
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Hello mikeylo!
AGHHHHH THE GLASSES AND THE DRESS!!! SHE'S SO CUTE, IM SCREAMING!!!
I HAVE to write something about this...
It's been a long, tiring day for you. You got yelled at by a customer at work for something you had no control over, and in turn your manager yelled at you despite, again, not having ANY control over it. You wanted to bring your girlfriend out to a nice dinner after work, but some rich asshole decided to reserve the entire restaurant for some party, and it was too late to make a reservation at any other place. Thankfully, Minji was more than understanding, completely content with a movie night at her place.
You knock on her door, your shoulders slumped and your expression downtrodden. Nothing is going right today and you feel bad that your date with Minji ended up getting caught in the crossfire.
The door swings open. "Hi oppa, are you ready for our date~?"
"Hey Minj- Oh wow." Your jaw drops to the floor in awe. Since the two of you are staying in tonight, you assumed that she would be wearing comfortable clothes, but instead, she comes out wearing a pretty brown dress and her cute nerdy glasses that you love.
"Oh my god, you're beautiful."
Minji blushes in response. "Hurry up and come inside, I have everything set up already." She takes your hand and pulls you into her apartment, shutting the door behind you. Before she can even take another step, you pull her into a tight embrace. A long, heavy breath leaves you, all the stress melting from your body in seconds.
"Tough day at work?" Minji asks, gently playing with your hair.
"Ugh, I don't even wanna think about work." The scent of her sweet perfume fills your nostrils, flipping a switch inside your head. You pull away slightly to see her face and caress the soft skin of her cheek with your thumb. Despite all your shortcomings, she's been with you through everything, always being a constant source of comfort and warmth.
"I love you, Minji." You take her lips into a gentle kiss, both of you melting into each other's embrace. Not even the softest marshmallow could compare to the feeling of her lips. Nothing else matters to you except her. And you're determined to show her just how much she means to you.
"I love you too- Mmf!" Minji whimpers, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of kisses on her neck and shoulders. You wrap your arms around her waist, catching her after her legs almost give out. Everything about her is so beautiful - her face, her soul, her body. Nibble her ear, nip at her clavicle, anything to show your love beyond mere words.
"O-oppa... Hmph! W-what's gotten into you today- Ah~!"
You stop momentarily to catch your breath. "Sorry baby, did you not want to...?"
"I-I mean, I didn't say that..." Her gaze nervously falls to the ground, her cheeks burning bright pink. So cute. You can't get enough of her.
You suddenly pick her up, carrying her bridal style. "If it's okay with you, maybe we can skip the movie tonight?"
Minji giggles, bubbling with giddiness. "What did you have in mind?"
You carry her to her bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
"Maybe it's better if I show you rather than tell you~"
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Just a little teaser :] Will I rewrite this into a full story? Who knows ;]
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artdcnaldson · 8 hours
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Longing for more Art angst in the changeover AU like in Valentine’s Day. Could you possibly do a follow up? Or maybe another angsty, sad, want to rip my hair out and sob, standford!Art x reader?
Rating: T
Word Count: 910
Warnings: Angst, Language, situationship being a situationship
Summary: The week of formal, Art finally lets you know that he’s not going to make it.
A/N: I jumped to write this so fast. Nothing makes me happier than Art and angst in the same sentence :) hope u enjoy this! Set the week of Part 1 of Changeover :)
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Art was noticeably quiet as you modeled your formal dress for him. There was something to his expression that made you nervous— his smile seemed a little too sweet, his eyes a little too cold.
It had taken weeks for you to find one you’d liked, but you’d fallen in love at first sight with the one you were wearing. A pretty, Stanford red, just like he liked.
Well, maybe it wasn’t so much that you liked it than you knew he’d like it. And it just made it even more noticeable that he was being quiet.
“What?” You asked softly, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” he said with a half-smile. He reached a hand out to grab yours and tugged you closer so you were slotted between his thighs. “You look really, really beautiful. You know that?”
His hand was warm on your lower back, which was exposed due to the revealing cut of the dress. His thumb rubbed soothing circles there.
It felt like there was another shoe, just out of sight, waiting to drop. Your pulse fluttered with anxiety as you looked at him.
“So you like it?” You asked, toying with the fabric. “I found a matching tie for you— it’s in my closet.”
There it was again. The flicker of guilt, or shame, or something. You pulled away. “Just unzip me.”
He sighed, but did as you said. The second the zipper was down, you walked away, putting as much space between the two of you as the small dorm could allow.
You pulled the dress down and tossed it over the chair of your desk. Kicked off your heels a little too aggressively. They slid beneath the risers of your bed. Didn’t matter, you wouldn’t need them.
“Baby—“
“Don’t.” You said firmly, jaw set with frustration. “When were you going to tell me?”
He didn’t respond. You pulled a tee shirt over your head and crossed your arms. He looked small sitting there, like a bug pinned under a magnifying glass.
“Art. When were you going to tell me that you weren’t going to fucking come? It’s five days until formal. Were you planning on letting me show up alone and look like a total idiot?”
He sighed, standing and crossing the room so he could wrap you in his arms. You stiffened, hoping he would let you go, but he wouldn’t.
“I was going to tell you today,” he said softly. “I swear, but then you brought out the dress, and you looked so excited that I just—“
Hurt squeezed your chest, making it feel hard to breathe or think.
“Patrick’s coming in, and Tashi thought the three of us should go to dinner. After the Pepperdine match, there are going to be team parties, so the only time that works for us would be Saturday night.”
You pulled back, a frown tugging at your lips. “So it’s about Tashi?”
He swallowed, annoyance visible on his features. “It’s not about Tashi.”
You scoffed and shoved him away. You didn’t want to be touching him, or near him, or even close enough to hear him breathing. You were torn between laughing and crying and biting his head off.
“Do you realize just how much you’ve wasted my time?” You asked finally, staring at the blank white board above your roommates bed. You could see Art’s reflection, the way his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. It made you even angrier.
“Genuinely, Art,” you snapped, turning to face him. “You’ve spent this entire fucking semester goading me with the idea that you might grow up and stop pining after your friend’s girlfriend. It’s been a waste of my fucking time.”
Art rolled his eyes. “You’re always making this about Tashi.”
“That’s because for you everything is about Tashi,” you yelled. “You want to be her boyfriend, you want to be the one she talks to about her day, you want everything I’ve given you, but from her. But she doesn’t want you, Art. She wants Patrick, and she’s always going to want Patrick.”
He rolled his eyes, jaw set tight. When he looked at you again, his expression was icy. You felt like you understood the nickname, finally. “You might feel better blaming me for all of the time you think you’ve wasted, but you knew I never wanted a girlfriend. You knew exactly what you were to me.”
“Right.” You laughed, despite everything, despite the pain in your chest, the pit in your stomach. It was all so fucking ridiculous. “I may be an idiot, Art, but at least I’m not fucking cruel.”
Art slammed the door on his way out, making the frames on the wall rattle. Your dress was red like fresh blood, a blight on your vision. You shoved it into your closet, crumpled and messy. It was a good thing you’d left the tags on.
There was a tiny part of you that thought Art might crawl back. A part of you that wanted to laugh in his face if he did, and a part of you that would accept his affection eagerly, desperately.
On Friday, Tashi fell on the court. Art was there then, and at the hospital. That night you fuck his best friend, or ex-best friend, or Tashi’s ex-boyfriend. All of the above.
On Saturday, you take your dress back to the mall for a full-refund. Patrick splits a Mrs. Fields cookie with you. It almost makes you feel better.
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Two angst fics in a row? More likely than you think! Pls keep sending more changeover AU thoughts or prompts or questions! i love it :)🩵
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annwrites · 1 day
Text
forever
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: you & billy go to a vegas casino. the next day, you have a scare & make a commitment.
— tags: ♡
— tw: gambling
— word count: 7,412
— a/n: while i am very proud of this entire series so far, there's just something more about this post for me. I actually cried while writing this one. i hope you all enjoy!
find my other posts concerning billy here
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GIF by 62737462718star
The next day, you and Billy stay snuggled up in bed, watching TV—him, at first, changing the channel every few minutes as soon as you got interested in something just to drive you nuts—napping, eating, talking, and every once in awhile getting on each other’s nerves just for fun. 
But, as you laid with your head on his chest and his fingers in your hair, you were completely content to fall back asleep listening to his steady breathing. The beat of his heart.
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You wake in the middle of the night to Billy tossing and turning beside you, muttering unintelligibly. His brows are furrowed, body slick with sweat.
You cup his cheek in your hand, shooshing him, telling him to wake up.
And when his eyes do open, they're full of fear. He looks to you at his side and his face crumples. "Oh, baby doll," he says, burying his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you.
You twine your fingers in his hair, holding him to you. "It was just a nightmare. It's okay."
"I lost you," he whispers. "You...fuck, you stopped breathing. I-"
"Shh, it wasn't real. I'm right here. Shh."
You let him cry softly against your chest until you eventually coax him back to sleep by reassuring him over and over again that you're all better now. You're still here.
"I love you. Just try and go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"
He nods, pulling you closer. "I love you, too."
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While still a tad under the weather, you feel far better the next day. And are honestly itching to get out of the motel room, even if it's just to go sit outside or ride shotgun while Billy drives around, letting you sight-see.
You're just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, when Billy comes back into the room carrying breakfast with him.
He kicks the door closed with his boot—a brown paper bag held between his teeth, to-go cups in one arm, a couple more bags in the other.
He looks up to you with a raised brow as he begins setting everything down. He nods toward the bed. "Take all that off and get back into bed."
You come over to him. "I feel better today. I'm tired of being stuck in this room, Billy. It's been days now. Can we please go do something?"
You bat your lashes at him, pressing up against him and he groans as you slip a hand in his pocket. "Pretty please?"
Before he can tell you, yet again, to get back into bed, you swiftly remove your hand, his keys dangling from your fingers.
He sighs, holding out his hand. "Yeah, you're hilarious. C'mon, give 'em."
You back up a step, hiding them behind your back. "As soon as you promise to let me out of here."
He studies you for a moment. "Maybe in another day or-"
"No, today."
He crosses his arms, jaw flexing. "I said no. And that's final."
You step closer to him, reaching out for his hand, which he snatches away.
"No. Do...do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought..." He shakes his head. "Don't ever fucking do that again, alright?"
Your lip twitches. "I will do my utmost to never get sick again. I promise."
You press yourself against his chest then. "Now let me outside."
He sighs. "Only once you've had breakfast."
You snuggle closer. "Deal."
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"If you so much as sneeze, I'm taking your ass back."
You roll your eyes. He'd been like this since before you stepped out the door. He'd even forced a thermometer under your tongue before letting you go out, which had read at a perfect 98.7°—a temperature that should've pleased him, but he'd instead frowned.
You'd tried making a joke about him just wanting to keep you all to himself for another day, but had known it was because he was terrified of you going back outside and getting sick again.
You turn in your seat to face him and run your fingers through his hair.
He fights against his lip twitching at the tender gesture. He sighs then. "Alright, where to? Unless you want me to pick?"
He looks at you then, a smirk now on his face. "We are in Sin City. Could always hit a sex shop, then head back and create our own entertainment for the day."
You lean over, kissing him deeply and when you pull away, he has a brow raised, thinking he's talked you into it.
"Nice try."
He leans back, rolling his eyes as he turns the car over.
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"Billy, stop, we can't go in. This is ridiculous. They're never going to buy your fake; I'm sure they see them everyday."
Billy was currently pulling you alongside him...into Caesar's Palace. He'd gotten the idea to go gambling in his head, and not even offering to go to a sex shop to try on skimpy lingerie had managed to talk him out of it. You'd even threw in that he could finally cuff you to whatever he wanted and have his way with you if he just turned back around, but he'd not listened to a word.
You'd tried tugging unsuccessfully against his hand, unable to pull him back an inch in the other direction. He'd instead led you further inside. And, just when he'd thought—ignorantly—as he passed the hotel lobby, headed in the direction of the casino floor, he was about to get away with it, a large man dressed in a suit, who was probably twice the size of Billy, stepped in his way.
Billy didn't shrink away from his authoritative presence, but you might've hidden yourself just the least bit behind him as you glanced up shyly to the security guard.
"Somewhere you're headed?" He asks, voice a deep baritone tune.
Billy looks up at him with a bored expression, nodding behind him. "Got a few greenbacks that're just burnin' a hole in my pocket."
He goes to step past him, but the man side-steps, once again blocking him.
"ID card, pal."
Billy retrieves his wallet, handing him the requested piece of information.
He studies it with a raised brow, then looks at Billy. "Billy Squier? You really thought someone would buy that?" He tosses it back to him. "Go on, get out of here."
Billy shrugs, tucking his wallet back away. "Like I can help that we share the same name." He smirks, flashing him a dazzling smile. "The Stroke is a damn good song, though, ain't it?"
He glances to you, then back to the security guard.
The man chooses to ignore Billy then, honing in on you. "You got a fake for me, too? Let me guess: Stevie Nicks? No. Cindy Lauper."
You hold Billy's hand more tightly. "I-"
Billy interrupts you. "She left hers in the car." He lets go of your hand then. "Listen, man, what's it going to take? My money's good, ain't it?" He pulls out a wad of rolled up cash, counts out a few bills, then reaches forward, feigning shaking his hand, the bills disappearing in the other man's grip. "Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?"
"You ever been employed before, kid?" He shoves the money back against Billy's chest. "Go on, before I have to use force."
Billy gives him a glare before turning back around, wrapping his arm around your waist. "C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead."
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Somehow, you and Billy get lucky at the next casino. You show up just when the security guards are changing shifts and sneak right in. Your heart had been pounding, and you couldn't tell whether it was your palm or his that was sweaty, but you eventually come to wrap your arms around one of his as he weaves between slot machines and craps tables.
You glance around, lights twinkling in your wide eyes in the dim lighting, the room illuminated by colorful overhead chandeliers, and neon slot machines. There's even a section of the room that's modeled after a carousel.
You look up to Billy then, walking alongside him. "Can I play a slot machine?" You ask sweetly.
"Once I win at blackjack."
You frown. "Do you even know how?"
He stop, turning back to you. "Baby, I've got skills you've never seen."
You hook your finger on his black half-unbuttoned shirt. "That's likely."
He shakes his head. "Keep it up."
When he turns away, you smack his ass and he laughs.
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You stand behind Billy, actually impressed. He'd not been lying about knowing how to play cards. While nearly every other person sitting at the table had eventually folded, or busted more times than they were comfortable with, and thus left with bruised egos, Billy's chips were just piling up.
You didn't like the way some people were eyeing his winnings, however.
You lean down close to his ear as he holds his cards close to his chest. "Billy, I think that's enough-"
"After this hand."
You sigh, frowning. "You said that twenty minutes ago."
He taps two fingers against the table and the dealer slides another card his way.
"Like I can help that I'm on a roll." He looks up at you, smirking. "Think you might be my little good-luck charm."
You shift on your feet. "You have way more than you came in with now. Can I please just go try a slot machine?"
He glances to the dealer and watches as he turns over a card and a smile breaks out across Billy's face as he throws his own cards down, slamming his fists against the table. "Woo! Winner winner, baby!"
He pulls more chips in his direction, which you grab in your fists, heading in another direction with them. You hear him curse from behind you, but quickly gathers the remaining ones on the table before following you to go cash in.
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After finishing up with the casino’s teller, Billy securely pockets away a few hundred dollars, practically beaming from his winnings. He then hands you a five and nods toward the slot machines. “Go nuts.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Only five dollars?”
He leans down close to you. “You want more, guess you’ll have to blow me.”
Your expression then morphs into a scowl. “You’re so-”
“Y’know, my dice, when I play craps later?”
You turn your back to him, heading toward a slot machine. “That is so not what you meant.”
“Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.”
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After losing once, you’d been ready to burn the entire building down. But after a few times? You were seething. You yank on the arm one last time and it then demands more money.
“Oh, that is such bull. It took all my money!”
Billy glances to those few others who are seated at nearby machines and a muscle in his jaw feathers when he sees them looking your way as you continue to make a scene.
“I didn’t win once. This game is rigged. I want a different machine!”
He can’t believe you’re getting this upset over losing five dollars that hadn’t even been yours to begin with, anyway.
“Honey-”
“Don’t honey me, I want another five,” you state, holding out your hand.
He crosses his arms. “I think someone might have a bit of a gambling problem.”
The vein in the middle of your forehead makes an appearance—he’s never seen that trick before. “I wanted cherries. I kept getting fucking bananas and-”
He steps closer to you, needing to calm you before someone calls security. “Sweetheart, I will give you all the banana you want when we get back to the motel. But right now-”
“I said cherries! See, you’re not even listening to me.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Good Lord, you’re acting like a little kid. And he typically relied on you to be the mature one. Seeing you so pissed was funny at first, but now you were getting a bit scary.
“Alright, fine, I will pop your cherry when-”
You lean your head back, groaning. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?” You look at him again.
He finally reaches up, squeezing your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “You want to get us kicked out?”
“No,” you mutter through fish lips.
He smirks. You look adorable like this. So tiny and angry and your face all squished in his strong grip. Like a pissed off kitten. “If I give you another five, will you promise—if you lose—to control your temper, and behave yourself, and not be a sore loser?”
“Yes.”
He releases you, giving you the promised amount of cash.
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“Motherfu-”
He yanks you up from the stool by your upper arm before you can finish that expletive. “Alright, time to go. You’ve had enough.”
“Just give me another-”
“Nope, you’ve had enough.”
“But-”
“No buts. C’mon. You’d leave us high and dry if I let you have your way.”
“You are so not getting lucky tonight.”
“Already did. Sounds like you’re the one who didn’t.”
“Oh, you son of a-”
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Once the two of you are back at the motel, you’d thankfully calmed down. Billy was almost afraid to leave not just his money, but the keys to the Camaro anywhere you could get to them, lest you return to the casino for a second round. Third, really.
But, once you were in a bubble bath and softly humming to yourself as you washed up, he figured that you seemed well-enough over it.
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After bathing, you stand over your bag of toiletries with shaking hands and wide eyes, your heart hammering in your chest as you stare down at a tampon that’d been hidden at the bottom of the bag.
You were late. Very late, by your standards. Your period had always been like clockwork. If it was ever ‘late’, it was by no more than a day. Ever. And even that was rare. Far and few between.
But today made five. The two of you had used protection every time. But…what if there had been a hole in one of the condoms? Or some of his semen had somehow leaked out or… That night on top of the Camaro. But he’d finished on your stomach. Not inside of you. No. This wasn’t happening. You were not-
“You about done in there? I need to take a piss.”
You jolt, dropping the plastic tube on the floor, staring at the closed door, unable to form a single word on your tongue. Until you manage to choke out, “Just a sec.”
“Gettin’ all dolled up for me just to go to bed?”
Your eyes sting with unshed tears. God, you want him to just leave you be for a few more minutes so you can collect yourself. Because right now? You felt on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.
You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face had gone pale, all blood drained from your lips, your eyes wide and terrified. And you were shaking like a leaf.
You begin taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Oh God, you felt like you were about to pass out.
It was nothing.
You’d been under a lot of stress lately, that was all. Yes, that made perfect sense. From the moment you’d left Hawkins, you’d been on a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. All the traveling, the fighting, worrying about money, worrying about each other, worrying about the future, you getting sick—it was a perfect recipe for a late period.
And it was only five days. Just because it was always on time before didn’t mean it couldn’t be late now. Sometimes bodies were weird. They didn’t always operate how they were supposed to. Obviously, or so many diseases and disabilities wouldn’t exist. And stress could wreak havoc on the healthiest of people. So, you had nothing to worry about. Right?
“Sweetheart?”
You quickly gather your things, your stomach now in knots, shoulders tense, jaw locked tight.
You swing open the door and stare up at Billy. “All yours,” you say stepping past him.
A moment later, you hear him relieving himself. You let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed you were upset.
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You’d barely touched your dinner. Billy had noticed, but you’d used the excuse that you ‘weren’t all that hungry’. He’d stared at you for a moment before stealing one of your shrimp, telling you that he’d eat them if you weren’t going to. He hadn’t noticed your palm pressed against your stomach.
Once the two of you were in bed, you’d turned your back to him, trying to fight back tears. If…if you were…what would happen to the two of you? You’d felt so sure that you’d found the one now. But this… A baby would ruin everything. He’d leave you. This much he wouldn’t stand for, you were sure of it.
You were both eighteen. Kids yourselves. What the hell did either of you know about being parents? You wouldn’t have any idea of how to be a proper mother, you’d not been given an example of one yourself. And Billy had his history with his father.
You hadn’t had that talk yet: what you wanted when it came to kids. You don’t even know what it is that he wants. You don’t know what you want, either.
Just as your terror begins to grow, you feel his hand sliding along your hip, erection pressed against your back. You feel sick at the sensation of it. That part of him had destroyed your entire life. And now you would be the one forced to deal with the consequences. The fallout.
You’d been right to be abstinent before. This was his fault. He’d not stopped until he’d buried himself inside your head. Had pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled until you didn’t know where else to run but into his arms.
No. You can’t think like that. He loves you. He’d made some mistakes, but you understood why. Had chosen to forgive him. You loved him, too. And what if you were just getting yourself all worked up over nothing? What if you weren’t indeed pregnant, and causing yourself further stressed just delayed your period further?
Billy presses his lips to your neck, reaching under his t-shirt, which you’re wearing, cupping your breast. “Want me to help you get undressed, honey?”
You bite your lip until you taste blood, fighting back tears. “I’m really tired. Maybe not tonight.” You say it so quietly that he barely hears you.
He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Told you that you should’ve stayed in bed. But no one ever listens to Billy.”
You don’t respond. You just take his hand, wrapping his arm around your waist, praying to God he doesn’t notice that your own is shaking.
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You toss and turn most of the night, at one point locking yourself in the bathroom to cry while Billy sleeps, clutching your stomach, praying to God that you’re not what you think you are. If you were, and he did leave you, what would you do? Where would you go? Everything would fall out from under your feet then. You’d have nothing. No one. He was your entire world. Everything. He was everything. Your everything. You’d come to lean so heavily on him. To rely on him at every turn.
If he left you behind… You want to die at the thought.
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The next morning, you’re exhausted. And Billy quickly takes notice over breakfast. Which you barely touch.
He brushes his foot against yours, reaching for your hand, concerned with the lost-in-thought look on your face. Were you getting sick again?
“Baby?”
You look up at him. “Hm?”
“You alright, angel?” He reaches up, pressing his palm to your forehead. You don’t feel feverish…
You nod slightly, looking back down to your cereal, which is now just a bowl of mush, stirring it.
“I think you’re still just getting over that cold. I should’ve made you stay in yesterday. How about you go lie back down and get some rest. We’ll just hang out here for the rest of the day. Alright?”
You nod, getting up, stripping, lying back down. You quickly fall asleep.
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When you wake, the TV is on, the volume low, and Billy is sitting up, one arm around you, holding you close to his leg. You stare at the closed curtains, wondering what time it is, but don’t want to ask, because you don’t want to talk. Don’t want him to notice that something more is wrong than you just ‘being under the weather’, even if you knew you felt completely back to normal now. You don’t want him to keep digging until you’re finally forced to cave and tell him what’s really going on.
So, you close your eyes instead, forcing yourself back into a dreamless slumber.
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Billy had let you sleep through lunch, but he now stands at the foot of the bed, frowning, considering whether to wake you for dinner. He’d gotten you a cheeseburger—one of your favorites—so he’s sure you’ll eat it.
He tucks some hair behind your ear, then gently shakes you awake.
“Dinner’s here, beautiful. Time to get up. Once you’ve eaten, you can go back to bed.”
You moan against the pillow, wishing he’d just left you be. You didn’t want to eat, because the moment you opened your eyes, your stomach was twisting into knots again. But you fight the feeling of nausea down, telling yourself to, at the very least, act fine. Pretend like you feel as much.
You sit up, smiling slightly at him.
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”
You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face from his view. “Better.”
He sighs. “Good. That’s good.”
He leads you over to the table and you force every bite down.
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Billy makes another sexual advance that night, shortly after laying down. He slips his hands between your legs. “I can do all the work tonight, if you want?”
You’d simply pressed yourself into his chest. “Could you just hold me instead? Maybe…maybe tomorrow.”
He’d remained silent as he slid his strong arms around you, holding you close, whispering that he loved you and to get some more rest. That he was sure you’d feel better in the morning.
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You do not, in fact, feel better in the morning. More rested than the day previous, yes, but your nerves are fried.
You’d raced to the bathroom to…expel your bowels from nerves at least twice in the night, and now your stomach was truly on empty. But just the thought of eating made you feel sick.
Currently, it’s morning and you’re lying in bed awake, even if you’d rather not be, listening to Billy quietly snore beside you. You sit up, staring down at him, trying to memorize every line and facet of his face. His body.
Before you loose him for good.
Tears sting your eyes at the thought of being alone again. Though, you won’t be totally alone, you suppose. If you are…that…will it look like you or him? Will it have his eyes? His beautiful head of hair? You don’t think you can bear it: having to look upon a perfect reflection—reminder—of him every day, knowing he’s never coming back.
How could you have let this happen? What if you got rid of it instead? Somehow, that thought makes you feel worse. A little bundle that’s equal parts you and him…gone. Just as a tear slips down your cheek, he begins to wake.
You quickly wipe it away, smiling as he opens his eyes, looking up at you, stretching.
He reaches a hand up to your cheek, cupping it. “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Hi.”
“You been up long?”
You shake your head. “I just woke up a couple minutes before you did.”
“Admiring your sleeping beauty then, huh?”
You smile at the sarcastic comment. “Most certainly.”
He slides his other hand up your thigh, stopping close to your heat. “You want to?”
You shift under his touch. How to tell him no yet again? You’d not been intimate in days, and you worry that continuing to reject him will only serve to hurt him, if not make him suspicious. But the thought of him buried inside of you right now… You simply can’t.
He notices your silence and his smile fades. “Guess not.” He removes his hand, getting up from bed, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go take a leak,” he says, padding over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Your chin wobbles, knowing you did it anyway: hurt his feelings.
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Billy lays on the horn, waiting for traffic to move. He glances to you then, who is busy staring out your open window. He knows something is wrong. But you won’t tell him what.
He reaches over, sliding his hand up your leg and his ego takes a hit when you recoil at his touch. He sighs, resting his hand back on the shifter. “Come the fuck on, man!” He shouts at the line of cars in front of him.
He then looks back to you. “What? Are you still sick?”
You clasp your hands. “No. I’m just…tired.”
He leans his head back, rolling his eyes. “Heard that a lot the last couple days. Don’t know how. It’s not like we’ve screwed much recently.”
In all honesty, he didn’t really care about that. He was fine with waiting on you. It was the fact you were keeping something from him that was starting to really get under his skin.
You begin to shake from anger then. “After everything, and that’s still all you think about. Not like I should be surprised. Since we met that’s all you’ve thought with is what’s in your pants.”
He jerks his head in your direction. The two of you hadn’t fought like this in a minute. “Excuse me?”
“You want to get laid? We’re in Vegas. Go pick up some hooker on the strip. You should have enough for it after the other night at the casino, I’m sure.”
He grips the wheel tighter. “The fuck is your problem? Huh? You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”
You look at him and his expression softens when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking, burying your head in your hands.
He unbuckles, reaching over, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. “Shh. Baby, please tell me what the fuck is going on. Did…did I do something?”
How to say yes and no?
You look up at him then, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m late.”
His brows furrow. “Late? Late for wha-”
His face falls, all color draining from it and quickly, leaving him lightheaded. He remains calm, as calm as he can manage—for the moment. “How late?” He asks, deathly serious.
“F-five days.”
“And the latest you’ve ever been is?”
“A day. And rarely, at that.”
He stares at you for a moment, then swerves onto the shoulder, parking, and quickly getting out, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck! Motherfuck! Why does this shit keep happening to me? It’s going great one minute, then it all just turns to shit!”
You turn away from the window then, refusing to listen to anymore as you begin to sob, clutching your stomach. You reach forward, toward the dash, now hyperventilating, trying to catch your breath, your ears ringing.
A moment later, Billy gets back in the car, forcing his way back into traffic. “We’re not going to freak out until you’ve taken a piss test and we know for sure.”
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Both of you stand in the family-planning aisle of a CVS, staring at their plethora of a selection of pregnancy tests. Billy reaches forward with a shaking hand, grabbing a two-pack in a pink box.
“Should…do you want this one?” He asks, looking at you.
You shrug, lower lip trembling.
He puts it back, grabbing a blue box next. “This one sounds like it should be fairly accurate. Ninety-eight percent.” He tosses it back onto the shelf. “Why the fuck are there so many? What’s the goddamn difference? I mean, Jesus, it’s like buying condoms. I mean, the things are supposed to be fuckin’ fool-proof, right? Why make shit that leaves you guessing in a situation like this? It’s ridiculous.”
You stay quiet, knowing he’s talking more to himself than he is you.
He picks the blue box back up, grabbing your hand in his other, leading you up front to the register.
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Billy tosses the test onto the counter and the older woman behind it eyes up the two of you as she scans the box, telling Billy his total.
You just stare at the floor as he pulls out a bill, telling her to keep the change. Then, “You all have a public restroom?”
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Billy waits outside the door as you go, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you place the cap back on the test and set it on the sink, waiting.
It’s maybe two minutes later before his patience has worn through and he pounds on the door, making you jump. “What’s takin’ so long?”
You walk over, cracking the door open, staring up at him. “It takes fifteen minutes.”
His brows raise. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He barges in, shutting the door behind him. “Why the hell don’t they put that on the goddamn box?”
“They did,” you reply quietly, showing it to him—right on the front. “See?”
He snatches it away from you, staring at it like it’s his own worst enemy, then tossing it in the trash.
He begins to pace back and forth in the small space, hands on his hips. You stand silently against the wall, watching him.
“I can’t believe this is fucking happening. This—coming out here—getting to California. It was supposed to be a new fucking start and now… I’m eighteen-goddamn-years-old. I can’t be a dad yet. I’m not ready. I mean, Jesus, I don’t know that I want kids ever. I can’t stand ‘em now. Annoying little shits. And they’re expensive as hell. Even if you think you’re ready, you’re fuckin’ not. We don’t even have a place to live. What? Am I gonna stick a crib in the fucking backseat of the Camaro? Fuck!”
When he looks at you, his heart drops.
You’re standing against the wall, shaking, tears streaming down your face, biting your lip, both hands clutched over your stomach, your face pale. “I’ll get rid of it,” you whisper.
Then you continue, “Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t…I can’t do this alone. What am I supposed to do? How…how am I going to live? What will happen to my baby?” You hang your head, truly sobbing then.
You thought he was going to leave you? Alone? To this?
He steps over, quickly wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m right here. Sweetheart, look at me.”
He takes your face in his hands. “Angel, I’m not going anywhere. If you are…it’s not like I didn’t play a part in it. You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. That you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.”
He presses a palm to your stomach then. “Both of you. We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.”
You blink up at him, speechless. Had…had he just proposed? “You…want to get married?”
He smiles, kissing your forehead. “It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not getting’ down on one knee, if that’s what you’re expecting. Not in this nasty fuckin’ restroom, anyway.”
You glance to the test. “I think it’s been enough time now.”
You walk over to it and fill with relief—joy—when you see the minus sign. You double over the sink, laughing lightly. All that stress and for nothing. Nothing at all. “Oh, thank God!” You laugh some more, feeling like all is right with the world again. “I’m not pregnant. We don’t have to get married now! We can just-”
You stop talking when you turn around and see Billy isn’t nearly as elated as you are. Not even smiling. Nor is he looking at you. Instead, his hands are gripping the metal support beam behind him, eyes trained on the floor.
“I-”
He quickly brushes past you then, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.”
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Once the two of you have returned to the motel, he still hasn’t spoken another word to you. He’d gone in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, even going so far as to lock as it while he showered.
You’d pressed your ear up against the door, listening, trying to ensure he was okay, but could hear nothing over the sound of water.
So, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting, thinking of how best to apologize for what you’d said. You’d just been so sure that he would be relieved as well. He’d said it himself: that he wasn’t ready for a baby yet. Then you wonder…had it been your comment about marriage that had upset him?
Was…was he ready for that? Were you? But when you think of it: wearing a ring he’s chosen for you, taking his last name, vowing to spend your life next to him—it doesn’t fill you with fear or doubt or unease. It fills you with love. Joy. A feeling of security.
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When Billy emerges quite some time later, he tries to hide it, but you see it: his eyes are bloodshot.
Your heart breaks, now knowing what’d taken him so long.
He had been crying.
You pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle as he chooses a t-shirt for bed. He doesn’t do that, though—wear pajamas to lie down next to you. And now he suddenly feels the need to shield himself from you?
You press your cheek to his bare back. “Did you mean what you said about getting mar-”
“Just fuckin’ drop it, alright? You’re not knocked up, so now we don’t have to get hitched. Let’s just go to bed.”
“But-”
“Like you’d want to anyway.”
“I do.”
He freezes. Suddenly imagining you saying those words in a different context. He slowly turns back around to you. “What?”
You stand on tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his damp curls. “I want to if you do.”
He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Really?”
You smile, nodding. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was just relieved that I wasn’t pregnant. I…I’m already yours in every other way. Why not this one, too? Billy, no one else is ever going to love me the way you have—do. Just like you, I don’t want anyone else. You’re what I want. I can’t imagine having to start over with someone else after…after all of this. The thought of losing you…it was tearing me apart. Having to think of living a life without you in it…”
You trail off for a moment, swallowing the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I’ll marry you.”
His lip twitches and his eyes grow glassy. He then crushes you to his chest, holding you close, cradling the back of your head. “Okay.”
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You and Billy are currently browsing through selections of gently-used clothing at a local thrift store, trying to pick out outfits to wear to the Little White Chapel. But every white dress you come across has something wrong with it: holes, tears, rips, yellowing, or it’s just a tad outdated or way too frilly.
Until you find a hanger buried behind numerous other items. As you look the dress over, you begin to smile.
You then wander over to Billy, who’s looking through men’s dress clothes and poke him in the back.
When he turns, a grin forms on his face. He grips the soft material, looking to you. A white babydoll dress, silver sparkles dancing against the overhead fluorescent lights. There’s even a matching veil.
“It kind of smells like mothballs,” you say.
He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.”
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Once Billy had picked out a pair of dress slacks that he felt were a tad too tight—until you’d been unable to remove your eyes from his rear, and then he’d said they fit just perfect after all—as well as a white button-up shirt, he’d gone over to the lingerie and gotten lucky when he’d found you a garter.
The two of you then went up and you stood by his side, smiling up at him, as he paid for your purchases, then asked about changing in-store.
Once the two of you emerged from the changing rooms, even he was blushing. So, you’d taken his hand in yours, and headed back out to the car together.
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“Can we stop at a pawn shop first?”
He glances to you. “For?”
You reach in the backseat, grabbing a shoulder bag, then pulling your dad’s Rolex out. “I want to trade this. For a ring. For you.”
He nods then, sniffling. “Course, baby.”
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“What about that one?”
Billy shakes his head. “It’s fuckin’ hideous.”
You raise a brow. He was worse than a woman when it came to jewelry, apparently.
You squint, looking into the late-night pawn shop’s display case, then kneeling in front of it, practically pressing your face up against the glass. You smile, pointing, looking up to the middle-aged shop-keep behind it. “Can I see that one?”
He nods, unlocking the display from his side, grabbing the ring you’d indicated, handing it to you.
You grab Billy’s left hand, sliding it onto his ring finger. And it’s a perfect fit. A simple gold band.
You stare up at him.
He looks to the man. “Will the Rolex cover this?”
“More than.”
Billy looks back to you. “We’ll take it.”
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Once the two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the small chapel, it’s only then that you notice Billy is shaking.
You reach toward him, but he quickly exits the car, making his way around to your side, opening your door.
He doesn’t look at you.
You brush your thumb over his lips, quieting him. “And I always came back. Or you came for me. Billy, neither of us is perfect. No one alive is. But…that’s the point, right? Of falling in love? Loving someone despite their flaws. Or…helping them through them. Not just giving up when things get hard. I know what—who—I want. We’ve both said it: that we belong together.” You press yourself against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head. “So let’s go make it official. No one is ever going to love me like you do.”
You then reach up, cupping his cheek, taking one of his hands in yours. “Are you okay? We…we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to wait, I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together- ”
He shakes his head, his hand trembling in yours. “What if…what if I fuck this up? I’ve already done it enough times already. I nearly lost you back in Oklahoma and then again in Texas. What if I turn out to be just like him and I hurt you, or-”
He rests his cheek against your veil. “Okay.”
You pull back, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, full of love.
“Let’s go get married.”
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“And do you, Billy Hargrove, take this little lady to be your lawfully wedded bride? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches—God willin’—or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”
Being married by an Elvis impersonator was most-certainly going to be a story to remember.
Billy tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing your jaw line, his other hand holding your right one. “I do.”
He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out his hand, a silver ring is held between his thumb and index finger.
Your brows furrow. He’d told you back at the pawn shop that he had your ring already covered, but refused to elaborate on how, until you were standing before one another exchanging vows.
He swallows thickly. “It was my mom’s,” he states, glancing to you, before sliding it onto your finger.
Unshed tears threaten to spill forth on both your parts.
“And do you, lil’ mama—Y/N—take this young stud, to be your hubby? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”
Your lip trembles as you stare up, into Billy’s beautiful, warm eyes. “I do.”
You slide the gold band you’d purchased less than half-an-hour ago onto his finger once again.
“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the Lord Almighty, I do so pronounce you husband and bride. Now, my good man, kiss your lady.”
Billy leans down, cupping the back of your head, and crushing his lips to yours.
A woman who also works at the chapel snaps a few pictures of the two of you kissing, holding one another, and beaming up at each other and at the cheap disposable camera she holds in her hands.
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After the two of you exited the chapel holding hands, laughing, even crying a little, you’d gotten back into the car and Billy had driven you to a bar, insisting on having some form of a reception, even if it was just the two of you. In reality, he deeply wanted to have his first dance with you.
You stand in the middle of the room—the place near-empty; it was a tad dingy and small—waiting for Billy to select a song from the jukebox over in the corner. You know he’s found whatever he’s looking for when a small smile comes across his lips.
He comes back over to you, taking one of your hands in his, leaning his forehead down against yours just as Bob Dylan begins to hum the beginning of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, resting his other hand against the small of your back, pulling you in close.
You close your eyes, reaching up, tangling the fingers of your other hand in his hair, swaying back and forth with him to the slow song.
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
You open your eyes, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as you press your lips to his own. “I love you.”
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When the two of you return to the motel, Billy leaves the door to the room open, blaring the song Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey from the car’s stereo outside, tugging you up on the bed with him and the two of you begin to jump up and down on the mattress, holding onto one another, smiling, laughing, happier than either of you ever thought you could be. Would ever be.
He crushes his lips to yours, holding your face in his hands. He pulls back. “Promise me that you’re mine for forever.”
You wrap your arms around his neck. “Forever.”
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slide || chris sturniolo || the finale
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SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: slightly unrealistic virginity loss. the long awaited finale is here!! i hope it was worth the wait :)<3
Chris Sturniolo did not want to fall in love with you.
It sounded brutal when he said it out loud, so he didn’t. He allowed the next few days to go by in silence, his phone on do not disturb. You had somehow managed to have woven a delicate web in his mind. The kind that invaded all of its corners.
Chris would lay awake in his bed at night, his eyes centered at the ceiling as he thought about what to do. Would you really allow him to corrupt you? To strip you away of your innocence? Of course he meant that in a sexual way, but in a lifestyle way too. If he encouraged you to fall in love with him, if he allowed it. Would you really be accommodating to his lifestyle? More importantly, would you be safe? It was these questions that kept him up late at night, his head beginning to hurt.
When Friday finally arrived he contemplated bailing. It didn’t sound good when he said it out loud. So again, he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure what you’d be expecting. Was his definition of wine and dine different from yours? The most important thing was simple. It was the one thought that he craved to have an answer to. Some sort of explanation. It didn’t matter which way he tried to wrap his brain around it. It didn’t make sense. Why would someone as pure and good as you, want him?
It was this question alone that brought him to your doorstep. He had never done anything like this for a girl before, or at least, not in a very long time. Once his product began selling things became different, his priorities shifted. Yet, you made him feel like he could throw it all away and still be happy. As long as he was with you. Even with watching as many romcoms as possible and googling how to impress a woman, Chris was still unsure of his capability in impressing you. He didn’t like that. He had never cared about impressing anyone before.
Yet on the contrary, there he stood. At your doorstep with a single rose in hand. Hesitantly Chris rang the doorbell, awkwardly shifting his weight on each foot. He perked up once he heard your familiar heels clicking down the staircase. You opened the front door with a big smile. “Hi,” You greeted. It looked like you couldn’t contain your happiness. Your aura alone was contagious. “Hi,” Chris said, giving you a small smile. He cleared his throat as he held out the rose to you. “I uh, thought you might like this. I cut off the thorns and everything,” He explained.
He watched your face flush pink, your small hand taking the rose from him. “Thank you, hang on let me get it in a vase,” You say, rushing back further into the house. Chris felt a bit out of place, your gated community sub division full of elderly people walking their dogs. Many who seemed to be staring. As you rejoined him you shut the door behind you. “So is there somewhere particular you wanted to go tonight?” Chris asked you. An elderly pair of women seemed to be obviously gawking at you both. Chris licked his dry lips, before realizing the cause.
His eyes flickered to his orange ferrari. The only purchase he allowed himself to spurge on.
Huh. Not the most subtle choice for this kind of neighborhood.
“Honestly i’ve been at enough traditional fancy dinners this week with my parents,” You say. Chris walked you around the car, opening the passengers side door for you. The pair of elderly women were walking past your house, Chris delivering the friendliest wave and smile he could. Once he got inside of the car his full attention returned to you. “Maybe we could just go on a drive then?” Chris suggested. The sun was beginning to set, a deep orange and salmon painting the skies above. Once Chris exited your neighborhood he took a side road, which allowed him to be out of sight from nosy cops.
After all, being twenty one and driving a ferrari is awfully suspicious.
“So this car goes pretty fast huh?” You asked, breaking the silence. Chris nodded. “Yeah it’s the main reason I got it,” He said. That and the neon orange was a bit hard to miss. When he drove this car he did it on purpose. He wanted everyone to know it was him. You bit your bottom lip. “You wanna show me how fast it can go?” You suggested. Your curiosity made Chris chuckle, his right hand immediately switching gears. He watched as you slid off your seatbelt, your short white dress riding up your thighs. He watched as you leaned over, pressing teasing kisses on the outside of his crotch.
Chris swallowed, putting his foot off of the gas. “Go any slower and i’ll stop,” You threatened softly. You couldn’t sound threatening to Chris even if you tried. But in that very sweet moment, he was completely at your disposal. Your small hands began pawing at his belt, the metal clinking. “H-hey are you sure about this?” Chris asked gently. As much as he didn’t want you to stop, he didn’t want you to feel pressured to impress him either. “I’ve never wanted anything more,” You purred. Pulling Chris’s cock out you took his length in your hand, pumping it a few times to max hardness.
He held back a whimper as you kitten licked the slit, his precum coating your tongue. “Do you want me to guide you? I know you haven’t-” Chris began. His question was interrupted by you taking his tip in your mouth, sucking it like your life depended on it. His eyes glanced over, noticing your dress was riding up your hips. Your ass was on full display. He groaned as you licked the underside of his shaft, his eyes threatening to flutter shut. The sun was coming down rapidly, night beginning to ensue.
You had secretly been watching a lot of porn, preparing yourself for Chris. You’d never admit it, but you wanted him so badly it was mind invading. He moaned your name as you began to bob your head up and down his cock. “Fuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” Chris groaned. One of his hands found your hair, gently pushing you further down onto his shaft. He was getting too lost in the pleasure, the sound of you gagging bringing him back to reality. He had accidentally pushed your head down too far. “Oh shit, i’m so sorry-” He began. You pulled off of him, the beautiful sight of saliva coating your chin appearing in front of him.
“Pull over, please. I need you,” You whispered. Chris didn’t need to think twice, pulling his car over. “Backseat?” He asked you. You shook your head, getting out of the car. His eyebrows furrowed as you rounded the front, opening the drivers door.
“You ever fuck a girl on the hood of your car?”
The sentence hardly registered in Chris’s brain as he picked you up, your thighs wrapping around his waist. He sat you down on the hood of his car, his large hands harshly grabbing your ass. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” He confessed, bringing his lips to yours. Your lips. Oh your fucking lips. It was like he had just rolled the perfect blunt. “Really? What have you been thinking about?” You asked, groaning as his lips trailed down the side of your face to your neck. He didn’t hesitate to suck harshly at your skin, his lust clouding his judgment.
“Everything about you. How badly I want to fuck you,” Chris admitted. You giggled, guiding him to pull away and look at you. “I thought you didn’t take virginities,” You say. Chris admired the hickey he had littered on your neck before answering. “Hey don’t get it twisted kid I usually don’t but you, you’re something else. I need to. I need you,” He answered defensively, but honestly. Chris lowered himself onto his knees, yanking your panties down to your ankles. “Can I show you?” He asked softly. Your eyebrows furrowed, questioning his question.
“Can I show you how much I want you?”
“Please.”
Your plea was all he needed, the brunette placing slow kisses up your thighs like he did before. You didn’t seem as nervous this time, your head tilted back and eyes screwed shut. “Hey kid, look at me,” Chris ordered. Hesitantly your eyes fluttered open, meeting Chris’s blue ones. He licked a stripe up your cunt, a shudder of pleasure shooting down your spine. “Like that? You’re so fucking wet,” He hummed. Instinctively you grabbed his hair, attempting to bring him closer. If you had it your way you’d be grinding on his face. But Chris wanted to take his time with you.
You weren’t just a quick fuck to him. He was finally actually completing the fantasy he had been jerking off to for days. He began lapping at your cunt like a starved man, your moans harmony to his ears. He groaned into your folds as he gripped your thighs, squeezing the flesh. “Fuck Chris, just like that,” You whined, tugging at his hair. He knew your roughness was unintentional. But fuck, your desperation was hot.
He brought one finger to your soaking wet entrance. “If anything hurts you have to let me know, okay?” He asked. You bit your bottom lip, looking down at him. “Okay,” You agreed. Chris inserted the finger inside of you, your walls squeezing around him. His other hand was wrapped around your thigh, your small hand reaching down and grabbing it. He intertwined his fingers with yours, your palm gripping onto him for dear life. “This okay kid?” He asked. You nodded profusely, your walls beginning to relax.
“More, please,” You answered. Chris slowly brought his lips back to your clit, sucking at the bud gently as he inserted another finger into your eager cunt. Your moans grew louder as he curled his two fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot. He released your clit with a pop, his chin covered in your juices as he admired you from below. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” He praised. You were so fucking tight Chris questioned if he was even going to be able to fit. You mumbled a thanks, your response making Chris smile.
He began to finger fuck you, going faster with each roll of your hips. “Have you ever cum before?” Chris asked you. The moon had settled into the sky, the only lights being the beams of his headlights. “Just from a vibrator,” You panted. Chris grinned mischievously as he abused your g spot with his fingers. “This is going to feel ten times better, just let go for me,” He advised. He resumed your assault on your cunt, lapping up every ounce of juice you provided. You were practically grinding on his face at this point, the cord in your stomach tightening.
“F-f-fucking, fuck, Chris!” You moaned loudly, your orgasm washing over you. Your vision temporarily went white as you came on Chris’s face. His tongue eagerly lapped up your cum, before licking his fingers clean. “You taste so good ma,” He praised. He rose to his feet, bringing his lips to yours. You were overwhelmed in the best way, your own juices coating your tongue. “We can stop here kid, we don’t have to go any further,” Chris told you, his lips barely straying from yours. You leaned forward, grabbing handfuls of his hoodie.
“Please. You have no idea how bad I want you,” You told him. He brought his thumb to your lip, dragging it down slowly. “There’s someone better who can make you feel this way. Someone who doesn’t have five keys of coke in their trunk,” Chris answered. He gulped as he anticipated your answer, the honesty slipping off of his tongue. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “There is no one else on the planet I want to take my virginity than you,” You answered. When Chris didn’t seem to believe you, you added, “I trust you Chris.”
He began slowly pumping his shaft, bringing his lips back to yours. His tongue traced your bottom lip, your mouth slowly opening more to grant him access. “If you change your mind at any point just please tell me,” Chris told you. You nodded, meeting his lustful gaze. Your pupils were blown with lust, your cheeks flushed red. “I need more than that kid. You can never take back this moment,” Chris said. You lifted your hand to his, lifting up your pinkie finger. He laced his own with yours. “I pinky promise,” You whispered.
With that Chris brought you to the hood of the car, rubbing his tip up and down your aching cunt. You whimpered as it brushed against your clit. This time Chris brought his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. He guided you to lay on your back, trying to relax you as much as possible. He licked his lips as he began pushing himself inside of you slowly, your face scrunching up in pain. “It’s okay, look at you. Taking me so well,” Chris praised. He could feel your walls spasming around his cock, struggling to accommodate to his size.
Once he was in enough, Chris began to draw slow circles around your clit. This seemed to help you relax, your beautiful eyes slowly fluttering open. You met Chris’s gaze, his cock sinking further inside of you. “You feel so fucking good,” You told him. A goofy smile danced across Chris’s lips, his hand squeezing yours. “So do you ma,” He quipped. His cock had finally bottomed out inside of you, his thumb still circling your clit. You sat up, wrapping your arms around Chris’s neck as you kissed him slowly.
You began to buck your hips against his, the brunette taking it as his queue to start moving. “You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled against your lips. Your mouth dropped into the shape of an O as he began thrusting slowly. “Faster,” You whispered. Chris started picking up the pace, his hips beginning to snap into yours. You had no idea how pretty your face was when Chris was fucking you. He was providing you a foreign pleasure, one that was sending you on a cloud of ecstasy.
Your moans were loud and turned into babbles of his name and curses. “Fucking hell, you’re perfect for me,” Chris grunted. His cock continued to abuse your g spot, your thighs trembling as the cord inside of you tightened. You felt embarrassed your second orgasm was going to come so quickly, your hand squeezing Chris’s. “Thats it, such a good girl for me. Aren’t you kid?” Chris panted. You babbled a response, his hips continuing to snap into yours. Chris could feel his own high coming, the brunette biting his bottom lip.
A girl had never made him cum this quick before. He felt like a teenage boy all over again. Your thighs were visibly shaking, Chris’s hands entangled themselves in your hair. “You wanna cum for me? Make a mess all over my cock?” He asked you. Your moans were pure noises of sin. Those noises ones of music to Chris’s ears. “Fuck yes, please make me cum,” You groaned. With your spare hand you grabbed a handful of Chris’s hoodie, throwing your head back. “R-right there. I’m gonna cum,” You warned him.
Chris continued his pace, smirking. “Yeah? Cum for me ma,” He hummed. He watched in satisfaction as you came around his cock, a white ring forming around his shaft. Without thinking twice he thrust into you one more time, his seed filling your womb. Both of you were panting messes. “Oh shit i’m so sorry, I didn’t ask-” Chris began rambling, fear washing over him. Dazed, you kissed him. “Relax, just buy me a plan b ‘kid,’ You replied teasingly, giggling as Chris ran his hand through his hair.
He pulled himself out of you, both of you mesmerized as his cum dripped down your cunt. “Was that okay?” Chris asked you. You met his concerned gaze. You chuckled as you pressed your forehead against his. “That was fucking amazing Christopher,” You told him. Biting your bottom lip you added on, “Wanna go again?”
Chris teasingly rolled his eyes. “Alright kid let’s get you some food and i’ll consider it. In the mean time let’s get you cleaned up,” He replied. He picked you up by your arms, setting you down onto the ground. He pulled up your panties and made sure your dress was presentable. Your face flushed pink in embarrassment as you noticed both of your cum on the hood of his car. “Uh Chris do you want to wipe that off?” You asked. He rose to his feet, redressing himself. He smirked as he threw his arm around your shoulders.
“And what? Hide from the world I just got to fuck the baddest bitch ever? I don’t think so,” He responded. He flashed you a genuine smile, reflecting the one radiating off of you. “Now let’s slide so I can get you whatever you want kid.”
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blairespandora · 12 hours
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Daryl Dixon Headcanon
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“I wanna be alone, alone with you… does that make sense?”
• when you met daryl at the prison, everyone warned you to stay away. that he is a loner and works best that way
• of course you went and ignored that statement and joined him from time to time
• it started off with you just dropping off some food in the watch tower for him, bringing up some extra blankets for when it was cold and even little trinkets you found around the prison (cute rocks, feathers, etc)
• he never gave you more than a grunt or a hum, at best a thanks’ but that didn’t bother you at all, you understood
• you also liked to talk to him about the most random things, things you liked, your past, whatever is happening inside the prison, he wouldn’t reply but it never deterred you
• and he was silently grateful you didn’t push him further
• after a while, you got your own spot in the prison, helping out in the kitchen and with the children which took a lot of your time, time you would have spent visiting daryl
• he noticed it pretty quickly but brushed it off as you finally giving up on him (he was SOUR about it but he ain’t gonna show it, NO way)
• but it irked him, and that pissed him off
• so, off to the kitchen he goes after a run into a nearby town, bag full of different utensils for you to bake with and even a small little bracelet
• it surprised you because the bracelet was green… your favourite colour you mentioned ages ago
• “thanks dare’” you grinned grabbing the little piece of string jewellery from his open hand
• “don’t mention it” he looked away and grunted
• and he continued to come pay you little visits instead. helped with the heavy lifting in the kitchen, grabbed the kids to tire them out in the field, letting you relax from time to time
• but then came the time where everything became too much for you
• you started becoming quieter, everyone took notice but decided to let you be, everyone had their issues at hand
• but daryl didn’t
• he would keep an eye on you from a distance for a while but then he decided to try out his luck
• one night when everyones gone to bed, you decide to sleep under the stars, escape the prison both literally and figuratively, taking your sleeping bag and a flask of a warm drink
• it was refreshing, even for one night, you didn’t know why you didn’t do this more often
• a while passed by, maybe an hour or so and you were just laid out on your back, staring at the clear sky above you
• counting all the constellations and putting your arm up, pretending to reach them… forgetting about the end of the world and how fucked everything was
• you didn’t hear anyone approaching (of course you didn’t, daryl was super light on his feet)
• “you okay y/n?” daryl said as he sat down next to you
• you were so focused on finding a constellation you didn’t startle “i guess…”
• he hummed and looked at you “which one ya’ tryna’ find?”
• “cassiopeia” you mumbled frowning
• he leant down and pointed just left to you “tha’ one yea’?”
• you smiled and nodded at him “thanks dare’”
• he nodded and lit up a smoke “wha’s up with ya’ recently?” he took a drag and looked into your eyes.
• you just shrugged and looked away from his intensive gaze “just wanted to be alone” deciding just to set for that, not wanting to waste too much of his time
• he smoked his cigarette quietly before deciding to get up, to let you be by yourself as you seemed to be safe enough for him to go back up to the watch tower
• but you grabbed his hand before he could fully get up because fuck it, life has gone to shit, what is there to lose?
• “i wanna be alone… i wanna be alone with you… if that makes sense?” you looked at him with a pleading look in your eyes hoping to convey what you meant through them
• he stopped for a second before nodding, stumping his cigarette and sitting back down closer to you, understanding what you meant. he himself relating to those words but didn’t want to ruin the moment by speaking out loud
• he grabbed your shoulder, bringing you closer to him so you can lean your head on his chest.
• you don’t know how much time has passed with both of you sat like that but it didn’t matter for now, it could mean everything but it could mean nothing at the same time
• but right now, you felt like you still had a bit of hope left in you.
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I’m not good with theories or analysis so forgive me if this is stupid but I wanted to share some thoughts
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Headcanon. The cables hooking up to him? That’s a new thing, new invention, something he hasn’t tested much. He was excited to use it, it got out of hand. This would explain how everything spiraled out of control with Alastor so quickly. Vox is all about public image, he kept his cool pretty well until Alastor started interfering with his signals. Then Vox started glitching out. Maybe the set up amplifies both his power and emotions- maybe it’s too much for his current body to handle in general. Maybe he’ll need more upgrades.
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I can’t think of much else to support this besides how when he’s glitched out here, the screens for the broadcast don’t display any red in the background of his office nor does it display the cables attached to his head. Similair to how he didn’t block Alastors radio in this scene
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That’s just a picture he’s displaying. He’s not physically blocking the radio. He just puts up a video of it on the Tv despite the fact he’s not doing jack shit. Similarly, he chooses to edit out the cords when blue screening so everyone watching can’t see them. Even if the machine and cords thing isn’t new he could very likely perceive it as a flaw- needing a machine to help him be more powerful and exert control would be embarrassing for an overlord who values power and control.
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Another thing is how he looks here. Not just shocked, but scared and disappointed- to me. Idk he seems more scared if anything. Not necessarily of Alastor- but of his own weakness. He needed to be hooked up to even be able to compete with Al and he still lost. Alastor wasn’t trying particularly hard, either. Alastor doesn’t need any help to be powerful, meanwhile Vox was relying on this new technology. He wants to be powerful and in control but he isn’t and despite how hard he’s been trying he’s not accomplished that goal. He’s the only overlord (besides Val and maybe Vel) who seems to be struggling with maintaining control of his own domain despite control being his whole thing!
I think Vox still thinks that Alastor was weaker than usual during this fight. If he thinks this, then he thinks that although he should’ve had the advantage he still lost. He should’ve won but he didn’t. He strives for change but it’s never enough.
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He’s always changing, always trying to upgrade so he can do better, so he can be better, stronger, etc. but it’s having the opposite effect. His refusal to acknowledge his weak points only leads to more problems. He’s dependent on this never ending cycle of upgrades because if he’s not always changing everyone would know he’s not as strong as he’d like them to believe and he’d be forced to come to terms with everything. He’s dependent on technology to make him more powerful, he’s dependent on it to help him exert his control, and he’s dependent on it to cover things up. Without it, everything about him, every little flaw is so obvious.
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Alastor is perfectly crafted with his poker face of a smile, every move rehearsed, every word carefully chosen, and Vox is similair. He only lets the public see a certain side of him to maintain his facade of a big strong CEO and overlord and he’s depending on technology and change to help him with that. Alastor isn’t dependent on any such thing, which is why he’s far more successful there.
It’s also why Alastor can see right through Vox. He doesn’t keep with the times, Vox can’t use technology to cover his mistakes from Alastor. Alastor sees Vox for who he truly is, and I think Vox hates that.
He’s putting on a show and building up walls so he doesn’t have to acknowledge the things that could ruin him.
Alastor sees past this, knows his vulnerability and the extent of his weakness and exactly how to exploit it. Alastor has a better control over his domain- the radio. Vox couldn’t interfere effectively even if he wanted, there’s nothing stopping Alastor from revealing it all.
But he’s not that kind of person. No, he’s patient. He takes his time and waits for the moment where that information will strike the hardest.
It’s no wonder Vox is scared of him, desperate for him to Stay Gone.
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otterlyart · 9 months
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Do you love the Colors of Faerûn?
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kenobion · 11 months
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Andrew Garfield on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert
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screampied · 20 days
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‘ CANDY BOY ! ’
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ᡴꪫ sum. who would have thought that the #1 camboy in your city was no one other than your virgin roommate gojo, who’s totally putting on a show for his fangirls. he talks too much, but maybe you can shut his mouth and put his sweetened little fantasies to reality.
wc. 5.8k
warnings. fem! reader, camboy!gojo, college au, gojo's a virgin, switch! gojo, unprotected, dirty talk, he gets pússy drunk quick, overstim, "good boy" usage, cunnilıngus, premature ejaculating, nipple play, lots of spıt, handjōbs.
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if someone would have told you that your loser of of a roommate who stuffs his mouth with a bit too many sweets, cries at romcoms, and is just an overall dork was a camboy, you’d call them crazy. batshit crazy even, yet that’s exactly what happened—
gojo was rightfully one of the top camboys in the city, probably in the world too. he was sort of a household name, it was more of a side hustle for him. he did it only for the money—sure, he adored his fans, even the ones that went a little too extreme with the provocative thirsting. but that’s all part of the job, he’s about seven months strong in his little gig. every saturday and sunday, he logs on under the user of: @/GOJOSLUTORU.
the moment that same notification pops up that he’s live, a plethora of his fans join immensely, wondering just what their favorite camboy satoru was up to today. his streams would last for a good two hours—longer sometimes if it was some kind of special event where he’d reach a massive amount of donations, a special treat for his fans. gojo was beloved for his flirty personality, he’d make his fangirls swoon with his words, despite knowing full well he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a lady.
that’s until you came along—more like catching him right in the act. it couldn’t have been any more embarrassing though. eleven thousand eyes were cheering him on, showering him with lewd "good boy" praises until you drop your bag.
“satoru?” you utter, curling your brow into a surprised furrow once you take in the scene in front of you. tossing the spare set of keys into the bin, you glance at your roommate—he freezes mid stroke with the most flustered expression. his hands were a bit … occupied, and a glimpse of a familiar cloth you once wore catches your eye. “are those my panties?”
“no….?”
with a deadpan, your shoulders drop before you drag your feet towards him to take a quicker look. oh, those were definitely your panties. so that’s where they ran off too. gojo tries to shield his nude exposed lower half with a nearby towel but it’s no use—you saw everything you needed to see.
“anywhooo,” he swallows, taking a brief peer at his chat that was flooding with all types of questions. they wanted to see you, they wanted to see gojo’s pretty roommate who he’s always rambling about on stream. clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before pitching his tone. he tries to sound more attractive but ends up butchering right away, stuttering at his first pathetic sentence. “ i- i didn’t think you’d get here so early. how was the exam?”
“it was … fine,” you mumble, barely acknowledging his words. your mind was racing vigorously, trying to process how you’d just seen your roommate half naked. going up behind him, you lean in towards his neat set up—you grew a bit curious, immediately, your eyes meet the other eyes that stare back at you. near the top right displayed his large following of eight hundred thousand, the top left displays his current view count, a whopping amount of almost twelve thousand. peeking at the chat, you’re met with dozens of freshly new comments saying how pretty you are, asking if you’re his girlfriend he always talks about, and so on. “you’re a camboy?”
“heh, camboy’s kind of an exaggeration but,” and he’s nervous, you can hear the slight tremor in his voice. it’s cute, gojo was prepared for you to judge him for his side hustle but instead you don’t. he relaxes a bit, shifting his attention away from his crude chat and towards you. “i like to label myself as a um, streamer..”
you have a growing simper. “i don’t think streamers usually get naked for their audience,” and you take a quick stare at his attire—he was practically shirtless, his boxers were covered although he was wearing some kind of tank that had ‘submissive and breedable’ printed on the very front. you furrow your eyebrow, though you choose not to question it. his nervously sly smile only grows once he catches your eyes quite literally checking him out. glancing at the comments again, you hum. “why do they keep asking if i’m your girlfriend? you don’t have a girlfr-”
“woah, s-shut up!” he whines, cupping a hand over your mouth. you giggle, feeling the warmth of his palm rub against your lips. gojo lowers his voice, speaking in a faint whisper. “they think you’re my girlfriend,” and he peels his hand away before running a finger down his nape. “i told them that because-”
“satoru,” you roll your eyes, noticing how he was quite stiff with his body language. being this close to you, your mere elegant fragerence was so exhilarating for him. you made him this nervous, truth be told ; you were far too caught up in your academics to even realize your roommate had a little crush on you. however, you do wish you found out in a more … non less of a lewd way, a way where he wasn’t caught red-handed fondling with a pair of your pretty sage-colored panties. with a sigh, you mumble to him. “you wanna fuck, don’t you?”
that’s definitely not what he thought you was gonna say,
with pouty shimmery lips, gojo’s eyes widen before a sheepish grin marinates against his features. “pft. do i wanna fuck, whaaat?” and he doesn’t even last a second before sighing, dropping his head down in defeat. “y-yes..”
the ringing from his monitor — dozens of women sending him gifts, tickets, donations, begging for their favorite camboy to notice him only gets more disruptive.
the ringing grows louder, the repetitive chiming sound of bells, the blaring notification it makes whenever someone sends him a sweet contribution. pretty soon, he was on the verge of meeting yet another goal. ever since you got spotted on the stream, his viewer count doubled.
“well, why didn’t you just ask? besides, there’s other ways than using my panties to get off.” and a wave of embarrassment washes over his face. the towel’s still covering his torso before he shoots you a shy smile. any closer you could’ve got to him and he thought he was gonna explode. the heat radiating from you had his head going in a crazed ditz. stroking his cheek, you speak softly.
“i’m sorry,” he whines, bottom lip poking out. you end up sitting flat on his lap, and instinctively, the curvature of your waist was met with two big hands snaking around it. you’re so pretty like this, he wanted you so so bad. swallowing, he peeks towards his chat before you cup both of his temples to stare right back into your eyes. “i was gonna ask you but- but i’ve never done this, you know,” and the way you slide a finger behind his neck, skimming the texture of your middle finger down his undercut snatches a purr from him. “i- i want you, but i just don’t know what to do with like .. i wanna make sure that i don’t embarrass myself.”
oh, he couldn’t have been any more cuter,
you heard the slight crack in gojo’s voice at the end of his candied sentences before you sling your arms over him. “don’t be embarrassed,” you softly reply, still straddling his lap. “i can always show you how.” and he gulps, your voice was smooth as silk. sweet as honey, the more you strum your thumb down his undercut, the more he can hear the rapid pulse of his heart beat throb through his ears. the simplicity of your touch was enough to have him weak.
“please..” he murmurs in a hushed tone, loving the way how gentle, how tender you were with your touch. gojo mewls out a needy whimper, feeling a sudden tent rise near between his legs. he was hard, you’d giften him a pretty solid boner and whilst you were propped up on his lap, you felt it rub against you all too well.
gojo awaits for you to make the first move, but you’re teasing . . seeing if he was going to initiate, and he does, inching his sheeny lips into yours.
your roommate pulls you into a deep kiss, he tastes like candy, candied. with your arms still occupied, wrapping around him, you glide your tongue against his, parting lips, teeth clashing amongst each other in sync. you could hear the faint sounds of whimpers run from his lips, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands though—so gingerly, a hand of his strums down your back, giving the fabric that stuck against your skin a soft yank. he wanted you, the strain beneath his half on boxers only grows the more he starts to suck on your tongue.
heavy, wheezing breaths collide against each other, hitting each moving muscle like a wave,
he’s so eager,
gojo’s mind clears everything out of his head and he’s just focused on you. the saccharine tang of your signature lip gloss, he tastes it and it’s so delicious.
through cerulean-pristine hazed peripherals, gojo looks towards his chat to read some of the comments . .
chososdoublehomicide: i miss choso
zorosthroatwarmer293: i wanna be gojo >:( she’s so pretty
secksybabeamy: Hey hot stuff ;) Subscribe to my only fans!
throatgoatemily: His whines omg
as the kiss deepens, gojo whines once your hand slithers its way down between his legs. slowly removing the towel that sheaths his exposed body, you feel against his dick. at first touch, he whimpers, then whines, then whimpers again.
he was so pent up—you could feel it, you were gentle with your fingers, brushing it against the length of his dick before gently wrapping a hand around its girth. gojo moans in your mouth, feeling hitched breaths arise from his lungs. he could never get enough of how fucking sweet you were,
and he didn’t even want to.
pulling away for a long gasp of fresh air, he bites his lip as he looks down to feel your hands stroke his cock. gojo had quite the staggering inches on him, he shivers at how precise your hand movements were—
up and down,
with a hand of yours gripping over his fat length, a thumb of yours runs down the vein that coats his shaft. its pulsing, he’s needy for more of your touch so bad that it sends shockwaving static to rigorously coarse through his bouquet of neurons.
“y-your hand feels so much better than mine, heh,” he breathes, swallowing the imaginary balled up lump that resides near the back of his throat. blue irises, dilated and all stares at you—a hand reaches towards your back before his thigh starts to bounce. “not to be weird but i kinda had a dream about this, angel.”
“a dream about me stroking you?” you hum, amused before sneaking a wet kiss near the crook of his twitching lips.
gojo nods wearily, forever deeply captured by your beauty. your hands swiftly resumes to stroke him, feeling the tender skin that lives near his frenulum peel back every few seconds. gojo moans, burying his face into the very depths of your neck. so desperate, he wanted more and more. “aw, is this too much? should i slow down?”
“no.. don’t stop,” and his desperate plea was so sweet, though he wanted to go further. you giggle once he suddenly lifts you up, dragging you towards the bed. “f-fuck, ‘m sorry. can’t wait anymore,” and he hovers over you with that crazed look of total desire. “can i … eat you out?”
with a coy smile, you’re laid on your back as he just stands over you — eyes gawking at your entire physique, the way your thighs were all out with the short hem of your shorts reaching against your ass. you could tell gojo was impatient, that hungry stare in his eye never once faded.
“yeah,” you coo, parting your legs slowly. oh, you were a fucking tease.
not only were you a tease for him, you were a simple force to be reckoned with. no panties on either, gojo felt himself get hard yet again before he kneels down. with your roommate positioning himself between your legs, he lets off a soft sigh.
combing your fingers through his soft tangles, he looks up at you with a craving yet impish expression. you giggle, making him look right into your eyes. peering at his chat that was going ballistic over his girlfriend, you speak in a soft tone. “do you know how to even eat pussy, ‘toru? i can h-”
“girl i know how to eat pussy,” he grumbles, and he sounds almost offended at you asking if he needed any sorts of help.
sure—gojo literally didn’t know the first thing of eating a woman out, maybe visually.
but now that he’s up close, he has to stop himself from folding right then and there. so soaked, he gets a full view of your slick entrance, your pussy was the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes upon so far.
as he’s a few inches a apart, with sprawled open thighs—the last thing you’d expect was for to gojo to start drooling all on your cunt. a stringy, syrupy concoction of his own saliva pours out of his mouth and onto your folds. just a quick glimpse and he’s pussy drunk. fuck, he’s more embarrassed than he’s ever been but he can’t help it. gojo didn’t even get a taste and he’s already salivating at the sight of your sopping wet arousal. a thumb of yours wipes the spit that dribbles near the corner of his mouth and he whines at your touch again before he finally digs in.
lolling out his tongue, the very tip licks near the inner moistened entrance of your pulled out labia. gojo for probably the umpteenth time lays his tongue flat before he goes all in. a broad left hand of his attach towards the fat of your thigh as he remakes a long striping lick. “s-shiiit, ‘toru.” you gasp, the coldness on his tongue taking you by sheer surprise.
the texture of it .. you’re weak, gnawing on metaphoric bars of your enclose as well as the skin on your lip, you whine.
for someone who’s never had much experience, let alone no experience, you’d easily second guess. your back arches forward while gojo’s tongue rummages through every part of your clit. he sucks on your nub, closing his eyes and fully sinks into bliss. gojo’s pristine white brows cock into a furrow before he slides a thumb down your wet entrance. he just can’t get over how wet you were for him. sopping wet, inept lips of his constantly quivers before he gives your cunt a sweet kiss.
wet for him, he breaks his lips away for a few seconds just to smear his face against your pussy.
“m-mhm,” he whimpers, wanting your scent to linger on his face for as long as it could, your scent .. it was hard to not get obsessed, a few minutes in and he already felt his mouth watering.
as bundles of minuscule taste buds of his tingle with excitement — his tongue swiftly swirls through every orifice, not missing any spot. he searched through the gooey crevices of your walls, lips moving in complete tandem. his dick strains between his thighs that it’s almost painful.
if eating you out tasted this good, he only imagined what it’d feel like to be inside,
shoved deep into your pussy, stuffing you full with his luscious thickset inches . .
that same repeated whine that always sounds raw dies straight out of your esophagus, you yank on the strands of your roommate’s messy hair as his pace quickens by a mile. in the midst of devouring your heat, a broad hand of his caresses near the juncture of your thighs—he kisses the long slope inside of your entrance, lips all glossy and glittering with gloss thanks to you. that same panging throb starts to grow within you again. your toes curl up tightly before your eyes meet the drywall splattered on the ceiling. his tongue, the way it continues to scrabble all through every part of your cunt, he grows addicted almost immediately. gojo can’t help but lather a few sloppy kisses on your folds, sliding his tongue through your slit.
he even starts to tongue fuck you, softly thrusting the swollen tip of his tongue in and out until you’re about to whine out again for him.
that was his favorite part by far, pushing his tongue in and out of your puffy folds — relishing the way your pretty pussy coats the underside of his chin with a lustrous amount of sweet, burnished slick.
“ngh, ‘toru,” you’d wail, and your hips start to jitter against his face. he doesn’t mind . . in fact, gojo brings two hands to grip against the curves of your hips.
once he maintains a secure grasp, he lets you rub your wetness all over him. with his tongue thoroughly exploring in every part, he starts to whine too .. so eager to touch himself but he wants to keep his hands on you. a whiny whimper wrenches from the back of your throat before you start to babble. “satoru, ‘m gonna cum, fuuuck. jus’ like that, keep l-lickin’ there, baby.”
he was such a quick learner, part of you thinks he maybe had more experience than you oughta thought. gojo can’t help but attack your sweet syrupy folds with a multitude of kisses, drooling lips of his making you more sticky than you already were. your legs could barely hold themselves open.
he had to pry them open with clammy hands, slurping in every drop as if he was dehydrated with thirst. a thirst you happily quenched with him being propped between your legs. after a while, he runs a thumb down your slit once more, pretty eyes glancing up at you, wanting to see your sweet face. “a-am i doin’ a good job?” and his voice was a bit hoarse, the way he speaks, drooping eyes and a sheepish grin—visibly pussy drunk, you grab onto his strands before rocking your hips into his mouth. he giggles, muffled noises eliciting from his mouth, taking your eager jittery movements as a yes.
he just couldn’t get enough of his roommate’s taste.
occasionally, he likes to depart his lips to gather a nice concoction of saliva—only to then spit right onto your sopping folds, whining at how it was so shiny. so pretty, he’s mesmerized again at how it looks, and you end up cumming with the cutest shrieking orgasm. it snatches out of you roughly, your speech is slurred for a moment as your legs quaver in utmost pleasure.
you’re shaking, feeling him clean you up with the flatness of his tongue—gojo moans, white lashes fluttering as he takes your beauty in. this was so much better than one of his risqué wet dreams. so much better,
without even a single word leaving from his lips, he gets up to pull you into a kiss. almost immediately, you taste yourself that lingers on his tounge. it tastes sweet, gojo props himself between your thighs as you sit up, a free hand of his sliding between your stretched out legs. the constant rings of his donations continue to scream out that same annoying chime before he leans in to shut his computer. he’d probably have left so many—thousands of his fan girls devastated, but there was only a new fan girl he was fixated on.
you.
gojo was addicted, with tongues colliding against each other, hot breaths wafting against each own, he feel his breath hitch at your touch. a hand of yours snakes down to feel on his erect dick. he whines, gnawing at the bottom of your lip before his tongue gets more curious. he licks the bottom of your chin, the side of your mouth, only to then pull you into another deep kiss. “f-fuck, ‘m so hard,” he rasps between sultry kisses, heaving from each breath. you still couldn’t get over the taste of yourself that loiters all on the flat of his pink tongue. “i wanna feel you from the inside, angel.”
“but your stream,” you tease once he finally pulls away, taking a second to catch your breath yourself. you felt the heat roam across the room before stroking his cheek — flushed lips of his burn with such intensity, you had him feral. “your fans, i wouldn’t wanna interrupt them, ‘toru.”
“fuck them,” he pouts, the cute frown on his face tugging against his lips. “okay that’s mean, they help me pay rent but just- i want you right now,” and he’s so needy. he paws at your t-shirt, glossy eyes widening, god. his bottom lip pokes out, squinting for two seconds before seeing how your nipples invitingly poke out. so perky, he could feel his mouth watering sporadically. he lays you back before swallowing, a loud gulp before he hovers over you. “you knew this was gonna happen, didn’t y-you? such a tease.”
you simper, opening your legs for him and he gets a good glimpse. gojo sucks his teeth, still so soaked. he only dreamt of what you’d feel like inside.
probably so tight and warm,
the more he thinks about it, the more he could feel himself starting to drool. gojo’s panting as if he’d just finished a marathon. a hand of his wraps around his length—giving it a few solid pumps. “i thought you’d wanna do doggy for your first position,” you sweetly say, and oh, he pouts for you again. you sit up, awaiting for him to take the lead first before smiling. “missionary though? you’re not so good with eye contact, baby.”
“i know how to do missonry.” he grumbles.
“missionary,” you correct him with a titter.
he pouts again, preparing to align himself. so wet, your pussy was sopping wet, swollen from just being eaten out so good. a warm breath fans out through his lips before he rubs it against your slippery slit. “and don’t call me baby,” he moans, although the simple pet name for him a lot harder than he thought it would. slowly, gojo’s fat leaky tip continues to ghost against your folds. you hold back a sweet moan, laid all out on display for him on the mattress. he’s waited for this moment, had dreams about it, even fantasized about it. “fuck,” he’d huff out, and his voice cracks. you’d laugh but he’s staring at you the entire time with that cute pouty expression. “can- can we hold hands? for you know, leverage?”
“leverage, sure,” you play along, your fingers locking against his. damp, perspiring palms squeeze against yours before his rounded tip starts to slowly make its way inside. immensely, a breath gets caught in his throat and he whines. the warmth he’s rudely greeted with makes him gnaw his pearly whites together. “you’re kinda b-big, so go a little slow, ‘toru.”
“i’m big?” he repeats—cutely enough, it boosts his ego that you think so, yet his confidence fades the further he dumps a few hefty inches into your entrance. as you expected, you were a bit tight and stiff for a few seconds—unyielding against him for a moment, you moan. saying gojo was big was a mere understatement, he couldn’t help but lean in to lay against your chest. “how’s it feel? s-slower?”
“it’s good. that’s good,” you start to heave, gasping once he inches his head closer to latch his lips against your neglected cold nipples. he doesn’t even lift up your t-shirt, he runs his tongue through the fabric and sucks on your perked tits. “t-toru, fuckk.”
it was a soft twinge sensation at first before he’s close to bottoming out . . so close,
it’s at the moistened tip of his tongue. gojo’s shaft resumes to go in further, you feel him pulse inside before once he’s all the way in, he’s already out of breath. with his mouth occupied—he’s still sucking on your nipples through the shirt, whiney. a free hand of his runs gives your left thigh a nice firm grasp before he starts up a single few thrusts.
you whine, tossing your arms over him and he glances down at you—beads of sweat race down the sides of his brow before he sits up in a proper position. gojo can’t get over how pretty you look for him like this, he’s fully in and he sneaks a kiss onto your lips. “can i m-move?” and the falter in his voice was adorable, gojo’s breath continues to get more heavy before you give him a nod. he peppers various kisses near your mouth, neck, and of course, your precious chest. his personal favorite,
with frail arms wrapped around him, pulling him close—you run your ankle down his back and he moans. “oh, ‘s even better than i imagined,” he whispers against your ear, hot breath sending you antsy judders. the more his breath goes against your skin, the more you smell how minty it was. fresh, you desperately yearned for more so you pull him into another kiss for the nth time. “ugh. the way you clamp down, ‘s gonna kill me,” he babbles in a low puff. he’s speaking between staring up at decent pace for you to get accustomed to. you whimper, trying to get adjusted to his barreling length but he was just so fucking big. it was an ongoing rumor that between gojo—and his best friend suguru geto had the top biggest dicks. of course, you always wondered exactly how whoever started that rumor would even know, but gojo was definitely a packer. he stretched you out in ways you’ve never felt before. with strained breaths, he coats your mouth with many wet kisses. time and time again, the feeling of himself going into you raw has him drooling again. “pussy’s so wet, ‘m gonna die, oh my god.”
“don’t be dramatic, you’re not gonna die.” you try to reassure him. the grip on your hand only grows tighter, crimson lips of his suck against the underside of your chin.
so damn needy,
mussed strands of white tickle against your forehead the closer he presses his body into you. gojo was shivering, just a few minutes in pussy and as if it was a game—he’d be on the last level, game over. albeit, you feel it too. the warmth, it turns into a sweltering hot. as his hips rock, his whines start to become more vocal. he sneaks a hand down to feel the area that’s being stuffed, a thumb skims against your tummy before he moans,
“feel me t-there, yeah?” he whispers, a cute attempt at dirty talk but alas, it’s subtle. gojo easily folds once your eyes meet his gaze.
you moan, intertwining your fingers with his, moaning out a soft, “yeah,” and you sound out of breath yourself.
he’s jerking back and forth — his pace, his tempo . . wasn’t too slow or two fast, perfect.
with a quivering bottom lip, he leans in to lick against the outer shell of your ear. your cunt’s singing in harmony, sloshes of wet that leaves its metaphoric vocal cords and you start to get a bit louder. “f-fuck, ‘toru right there—fuuuck.”
“s-shit, you’re so pretty,” he pants, repeating his ways at coating your entire face with his wet kisses. you had him weak, entirely. you found it a bit silly considering how this could have happened anytime—anytime at all, all he had to do was ask. but gojo being gojo, he was not only a man with barely any experience, but he was nervous. he’s always had a bit of a crush on you but confessing sounded way scary. it was as if this entire thing was mere coincidence though, you happen to find out he’s not only a sloppy eater but,
he’s a camboy.
part of you wonders what he does on his streams. if you saw him rubbing one off while thinking about you—you could only imagine what other lewd antics he participated in.
gojo’s rutting into you at a much more quicker pace, he’s whining into your neck;
forgetting to praise you, and it’s more of the other way around. you’re cupping his face, stroking his cheek before repeating in that same melodic voice, “good boy, ‘s so good, makin’ me feel good, ‘toru baby.”
your voice, oh your voice, he could listen to it all day. you feel the constant twitch of his cock inside you and he whines every time your ankle rubs down his back. with the way your pussy holds him hostage— it’s so provocative, his reaction time was as slow as a sloth, droopy eyes stare at you before he grunts out a pleading, “f-fuck, ‘s gonna come,” and his voice sounds like a soft purr, gojo was like a kitten to you— so cute, his pout always make things more true too. he’s groaning in your ear, fat balls thwacking against you before his ears starts to ring. you’re moaning with him, bodies thrusting in sync that it’s almost like a pornographic choreography. “ugh, i- i feel it, ‘m gonna cum so much. so hot, gonna die.”
“breathe, baby,” you whisper, pulling his face closer to you. his chubby cheeks squish together once he’s within your grasp, the sharp piston of his hips makes you moan. his thrusts gets a bit sloppy and you press a kiss onto his mouth. “mwah,” you hum, watching how flustered he gets at a lick of your affection. “you wanna finish inside, don’t you?”
gojo whimpers. “yeah, yeah. really bad,” and the moment you suggest that, his ears perk cutely. he’s gotta be careful though—with a cunt as addicting as yours, he just might end up falling in love.
speaking of love, it’s as if heart eyes pour into his irises as he glances at you—again, metaphorically of course. gojo gulps at the tender touch of your fingers, leaning in to nip a kiss near your neck. through muffled words, he mewls. “i wanna fill you up. ‘s only fair since you’re milking me s-so much, ‘m so thirsty,” and he’s just babbling, pulling him close—he whines once he feels your finger glide through his sensitive undercut again. “hngh, gonna break me. let me make a mess in you please? i’ll even eat it out of you once ‘m done.”
you’re tempted at his pleads, giggling before dragging him into a deep kiss. “such a blabbermouth,” you tease between kisses, staring to feel the tears of sweat race down the sides of your forehead also— with a sly smile, you lick the drool that was about to run down the side of his lip. “finish in me, ‘toru. it’s okay. be my messy boy.”
his eyes dilated once he hears that,
your messy boy.
he even repeats it, “y-your messy boy, yeah, ‘m so messy for you, roomie,” and as he’s preparing for his inevitable release, he sinks into your warm embrace. “one more kiss, h-hold me.” and as if on command, you yoke his head in close, giving him a deep, passionate kiss. his pulsing heart beats through his ears. gojo—by this point, he was already whipped. the way his hips pick up, growing more sloppy and deranged—he’s feral.
the feverish under parts of his thighs burn, longing for its incoming conclusion climax—yet, as your smoldering heat gnashes against his, it finally comes.
with a primal gasp, it’s here.
the nirvana—euphoria, whatever it could have been called to describe this feeling, it was here.
gojo whimpers, going into a complete spazzing fit once he feels the slow orgasmic waves of himself starting to shoot literal humid blanks inside you.
it’s hot, parching hot— your heat against smelts his, it scratches a fervor itch in your brain. his tongue rummages the inside of your mouth again as he’s painting the insides of your gummy walls with his snowy white color.
satiny ropes of your roommate’s seed trickle into you, it’s so gooey and hot that it starts to stick against the inner parts of your thighs. each rough kiss reflects the same desire the both of you share before he shudders.
slow thrusts, he’s barely moving as fast as he was before but he’s still active. he wants to make sure you feel every inch he’s saved for you,
for weeks, months, maybe even years—
“god,” he whimpers out, pulling away from your glossed lips—a pretty cobweb of spit departs from each and he happily laps it up with his tongue. who knew your roommate was nothing more than a mere freak.
not you, not by a long shot.
it takes a moment for him to catch his breath, with a flustered look— gojo’s now clingy.
he doesn’t wanna move away from you, nor does he wanna exactly pull out. not just yet, he’s plugged you full of sticky cum that was threatening to ooze of your hole before he kisses the bridge of your nose. “that was so awesome.”
and just like that, the mood’s ruined—you pant, he’s hovering over you, his weight barely on you before you sigh.
“you know,” you change the subject, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “your moans, you sound more like a girl than me, ‘s kinda hot.”
“whaaat?” he grumbles, his sweetened pout forever returning. “that’s not nice, ‘n besides if it’s anyone who moans louder it’s you, angel.”
you kiss near the twitching corner of his lip, watching his sudden attitude shift like a light switch and he’s now a puddle. “you finished a bit early though,” and with your arms wrapping around him again, you speak in a soft voice. “wanna go again? you’re a natural, ‘toru.”
“please,” he whines with a nod, feeling how sweltering hot it felt to be still buried into the comforting tightness of your cunt. “this time, i wanna try doggy.”
“okay, pretty boy,” you tease, leaning in for another one of gojo’s sloppy, need kisses. just before he could pull out, the door springs open. the hinges scream once it pulls back and the two of you both look to see what the racket was.
as the door opens, it was geto—gojo’s best friend, and he had the most disgusted look on his face.
with a scrunched up face, he utters. “i’m never running errands for you two again, what the actual fuck.”
and as he turns his heel to leave, gojo snorts. “suguboooo! aw, don’t leave just yet. you can always joinnn.”
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aztops · 6 months
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Embarrassing
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You waited on your knees, wearing nothing but your pink panties when I walked into your room.
I ignored you and looked around at all the pink. Pink walls. Pink bedspread. Pink furniture. Even Pink stuffies.
I open the drawer to your Pink night stand. I smiled seeing all the toys. A Pink skinny vibrator. A light up butt plug. A bumble bee. And a set of Pink furry handcuffs. Underneath all that was your journal.
I pulled the pink vibator from the drawer and walked over to you. I run my fingers into your hair and kiss you. I lift by the hair, pulling your butt from your heels.
I rub your pussy through your panties. They are already soaked. I smile and turn the vibrator on before working it in your pussy slowly. You gasp at first but relax into its gentle vibration.
I use your panties to keep it in there. You pant a little as I pull the handcuffs from the drawer. Your eyes widen for a moment and then soften. You put your hands behind your back.
I lock them in place and return to the drawer. I pull your journal and flip through it.
Your eyes bulge and you begin to protest. Your face beet red.
I stand in front of you and pull out my throbbing cock.
I want you to suck my cock while I read your journal.
You resist at first, but were defenseless. You take me in your mouth and begin to suck.
I make sure I turn each page loudly to remind you of what I'm doing.
I get to the time you lost your virginity. I read every word out loud and slowly. You sucked a little faster as I read.
You must have felt so ashamed afterward. You know you were supposed to save yourself for true love. What were you thinking?
You suck harder.
I read out loud how you were obsessed with the boy in your class, but he ignored you.
What? Were you too shy? Not pretty enough? Not slutty enough? Just think of the things that beautiful boy could have done to you.
You suck faster.
I read about the first time you got high and that pervert wouldn't take his hands off you. And how you finally gave in.
Really? You gave in? You let that perv fuck you? It's embarrassing how weak you were. You probably felt that shame for a long time. Didn't you?
You slow down and pull away, but I guide your mouth back on my cock. You eagerly take it.
I read about that night where you were really drunk and got fucked by a stranger in the backseat of that car.
That must have been the night you truly became a slut. I mean. That could have been anyone. And you just gave it up without trying to resist. You're such a dirty little slut.
You take me all the way down in your throat. You hold it there, literally trying to choke back tears.
I read about that time you kissed a girl and ate her pussy while getting fucked from behind.
Oh, see now, that's my good girl. I'm so proud of you. I like when you are fun like that.
You ease up but still choke back tears.
Then I read about your latest entry. How you met me. How you like when I call you a good girl, or my Pretty girl, or my Pretty Little slut.
I read how you like the way I look at you, especially when you're dressed up. The way I make you feel when I'm dominating you. The way I love when you please me. How I treat you like a princess and a fuckdoll.
I stop reading and pull your hair back so you can look at me.
I smile down at you while I cum in your mouth.
That's my good little girl. I'm proud to have you.
I take you in my arms and set you on your bed. I lie next to you. Hold you and tell you everything is alright. You are safe and secure.
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saetoru · 23 days
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)
contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3
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satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.
“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.
you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”
“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”
you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.
your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.
not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.
“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.
satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.
for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?
as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)
“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”
“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.
“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”
“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”
“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”
“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.
years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.
he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.
satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.
he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.
“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”
“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”
“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”
“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.
“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”
“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”
“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”
“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.
he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”
“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”
“and what would that be?” he pouts.
“everything.”
“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.
“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”
“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.
“think about what?”
“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”
“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”
“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”
“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.
“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.
“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”
“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”
he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.
he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.
ever.
“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”
“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”
“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.
his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.
“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”
“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.
satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.
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i cried writing this. what a man he is truly
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louebel · 9 months
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[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.
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𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘
"you too!!"
you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.
he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)
it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.
this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.
"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"
scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.
if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.
pat the boi.
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍
her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!
"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."
robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.
it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.
you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.
she really did look cute while smiling.
"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."
she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖
dies
you think he looks... cute?
his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.
"... really?"
"of course!"
he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you
when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.
so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.
"thank you."
you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.
"and... you too."
he really does love you.
𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
dies 2.0
"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"
never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.
he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.
if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)
he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!
it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.
he's so giddy and adorable.
"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."
𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃
mf's smile never dropped so fast.
"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"
was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...
"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."
staaaare...
"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."
but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.
yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)
plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.
he truly is grateful.
"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."
...
bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!
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markster666 · 4 months
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Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =
Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.
ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 878
A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.
Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.
"Everything alright, Alastor?"
"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"
You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.
"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."
His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,
"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"
You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.
He sighed.
"I need to breed."
Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...
"And... why are you telling me this?"
He laughed.
"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."
You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.
"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"
He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.
"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."
You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.
"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."
He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.
You were already in it.
He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.
He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.
"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."
He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.
Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.
"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"
You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.
"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."
His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.
After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,
"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."
You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.
"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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aperrywilliams · 4 days
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That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.
Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.
Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)
Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.
A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!
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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.
But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.
He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.
From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.
But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.
You were extremely shy and reserved.
In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'
He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.
But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.
You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.
At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.
It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?
If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.
From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.
You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.
'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'
'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'
And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.
And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.
But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.
Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.
In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.
The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.
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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.
Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.
All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.
Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.
"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.
"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.
"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.
"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.
"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.
You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.
It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.
"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.
"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.
"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.
That's it—the elephant in the room.
Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...
There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.
Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.
"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.
And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.
But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.
"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.
"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.
"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.
"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.
And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.
Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.
When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.
"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.
That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.
You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.
Emily is who stops everyone's rant.
"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."
And this is how the discussion is settled.
Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.
When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.
"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"
You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.
"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."
"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.
You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.
Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.
"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."
Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.
"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.
Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."
If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.
---------------
You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.
Everyone has a role in the plan.
Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.
Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.
When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.
"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.
"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"
Your cheeks redens.
"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.
"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."
You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.
"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."
"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.
One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.
At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.
For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.
Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.
"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.
The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.
As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.
Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.
Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.
Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.
You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.
Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.
At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.
"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.
"Show time," you mumble to yourself.
You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.
That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.
You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.
Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.
"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.
JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.
"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."
Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.
"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."
You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.
Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.
Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.
Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.
Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.
JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.
As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.
"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.
Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.
There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.
"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.
With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.
He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.
"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.
"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.
Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.
The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.
"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.
"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.
You get closer to him to speak in his ear.
"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.
Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.
You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.
"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.
You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.
It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.
Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.
When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.
As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.
Everything that happens after is too fast.
The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.
But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.
There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.
You shyly approach him.
"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.
"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.
"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.
"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.
Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.
Everything except that kiss.
If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.
A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.
You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.
What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.
"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.
"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.
"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.
Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?
"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.
A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.
There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.
"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.
"I know," you say with some hesitation.
"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"
Now, you are the one who smirks at him.
"Evidence, huh?"
"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.
"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.
Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.
This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.
------------------ 
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