#an excuse. us not helping out much in the kitchen or around the house (which is bad but also we have reasons for it that i think are valid

[pepprs]

also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!

[fairy-angel222]

You as a milf and Gojo as your son’s friend. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

He’s always so flirty with you and you just brush it off because you found it cute really. The way he would send constant smirks and winks your way, leaving your son and the rest of their friends upstairs only to be in the kitchen with you. Using his usual excuse of, “if you won’t help out your mom i will.”

His hands accidentally brushing way too close to your ass which looked so damn delicious in those tight fucking pants. You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the white haired boy. But you were old enough to be his mother.. and he was one of your son’s closest friends.

You ignored the tingling in your stomach when you felt him creep up behind you as you bent over. His body bending to fit against yours and his hot breath fanning over your ear. “You know miss l/n.. we’d be perfect together. I may be young but i have everything to satisfy you right—” grinding his hips up into you, “here.”

“S-satoru.. you know that that’s not possible.”

“Why, hmm? I know you want me.” he smirked, kissing down your neck softly.

“No, i don’t. This is wrong.”

A lie. You did want him.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Well.. i guess you won’t feel anything if i did this.”

Gojo turned you around by your waist swiftly, his lips connecting with yours while his hands roamed down your body, settling on the plush underside of your ass.

Your hands rested on his hard chest with the intention of pushing him away. Instead finding yourself letting out a satisfied moan, your fingers gripping at his shirt as he groped your soft flesh.

“Fuck what am i doing, i said this was wrong.” you said sternly to yourself, giving him one last glance before you walked out of the kitchen. Your head bowed in shame with your lip sat between your teeth.

What was wrong with you.

Is what you said over and over in your head as you found yourself bouncing on Gojo’s cock. His hands on your hips and a sadistic grin on his face as he watched you moan and whimper on top of him.

Your son had gone to pick up some food for the group, dragging his other two friends along while Gojo insisted he stayed back. Claiming that he was not feeling up to leaving the house.

“What happened to your morals huh? Thought this was wrong.” he breathed, eyes focused on the bouncing of your massive tits as you moved up and down on his cock. Rolling your hips so that his thick tip grazed along your g spot perfectly.

“Oh God—” you cried out, your stomach tightening as you dug your nails deeper into his pale shoulders. “Satoru.”

“You’re squeezing me so- shit— fucking tight ma.”

You only moaned, your vision blurry as you threw back your head with your mouth agape. His dick no doubt hitting deeper than anyone has ever reached before.

“F-fuck Satoru— you’re so- nngh, you feel so good.”

Gojo groaned loudly when you began needily rocking your hips on his cock, your mewls loud and laced with desperation. Your brain was plagued with thoughts of him. His hands, his voice, his scent.

This was so wrong, and you hated yourself for giving in. But he felt so damn good.

“Would’ve dicked you down ages ago if i knew you wanted me this badly.”

You tugged at his hair with a sultry moan, your body trembling and your eyes rolling back as you approach your high. “Satoru,” you mewled, “i’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweetheart? Make a mess all over this young cock that you seem to love so much.” he rasped, his lips parted in hard pants as you clenched down on him. His dick twitching within the wetness of your pussy.

You let out a high pitched cry, back arching as you creamed his cock. Your pussy drenching his thighs.

“There we go. Look at how messy she is for me.” he groaned, leaning forward and capturing your neck in his teeth. Your head rolling to the side to give him room for his marks.

Gojo’s hold on your hips tightened, thrusting his hips roughly up into you as he chased his own orgasm. Lewd sounds of skin against skin echoing the room together with your noises.

“Fuck, what if i got you pregnant and became (your son)’s new daddy.” he chuckled darkly, letting out a chant of curses before easily slipping out of your dripping warmth. Allowing his cum to spill onto your exposed skin. Your lower belly, your pretty pussy lips, your plump thighs.

“So fuckin’ pretty. You sure this wasn’t enough to change your mind?”

You looked at him with half lidded eyes, feeling yourself grow tired as you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “N-no.. this was,” your eyelids fluttered. “..a mistake.”

Gojo only smiled, a wide one. This was only the first time and it most certainly would not be the last. He was serious about being with you. Taking care of you. And he knew that you wanted it too.

Gojo panicked when he heard the front door slam shut, looking down to see your beautiful sleeping form. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

A knock. “Hey mom have you seen Satoru anywhere?”

He was so screwed… but it was so damn worth it.

[lxnarphase]

keep it quiet ๋࣭ ⚝

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi ☾₊‧⁺...cw : college au, 'we have to be quiet' trope, unprotected sex ☾₊‧⁺...synopsis + a/n : this is based off an old ask from my old account that i just HAD to redo but for the jjk men : "which of the jjk men would fuck you when visiting your parents in your childhood home?"

who teases you the whole time ↴

g. suguru ; oh, he’s an asshole, acting like an innocent angel when in reality he’s slipped his hand into the back of your sweatpants several times today, giving your ass a squeeze when your parents weren’t looking. you nearly curse him out when he ‘squeezed past’ you, his hand on your waist pulling you against him as he makes sure you feel how hard he is through his pants. so it's no surprise when he whisks you away and has you pressed against your bedroom wall. 

“do you hear that? those dirty noises you making from me fucking you? bet you wanted this all day, didn’t you, princess?” “didn’t mean to go that deep…but might do it again, just like this. oooh, I like that noise you made, pretty girl, make it again for me.”

g. satoru ; satoru can sense you getting needy, pulling you to your bedroom the second your parents bid the two of you good night. it's technically his fault, just a few minutes before your parents said goodnight, he excused himself to the bathroom. you were confused when your phone buzzed and you saw a message from satoru, opening it just to see a picture of his hand wrapped around his dick. 

“didya plan this, baby? hm? for me to fuck you until you cream on my cock in your parents' house? so needy, my pretty little baby.” “such a whore f'me...you can’t stop thinking about my dick, look at how wet you got just from that picture. bet it feels good being stuffed with it now, right, baby?” "oooh, she's creamin' all over me, so pretty, i can't stop, can't fucking stop, so fucking pretty when you're all messy like this."

f. toji ; he acts like it’s not him who had you against the wall with his hands up your shirt and his tongue in your mouth literally seconds before your parents came back home from the store. the two of you are on edge, and the second your parents tell toji he is free from helping in the kitchen, he drags you away to your old bedroom down the hall to continue what he started. 

“you're not talkin', but fuck, you’re making so much noise down here, they’re gonna know, sweetheart.” “you gonna cum, mama? aww, pretty thing's gonna make a mess of my cock while your parents are down the hall waiting for us to come eat? fuck, do it, baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.”

r. sukuna : it's some family get-together your parents invited you to, but you can barely focus on saying hi to everywhere with the way sukuna is draped over you, arms around your waist as he presses his hips into your ass as you talked to your parents. the moment you have the chance, you make some excuse about showing sukuna your childhood home, dragging him inside to your old bathroom. 

“you really wanted me, didn’t you? my pretty whore, sucking me back in, your squeezing me so tight.” “had to pull me away into the bathroom to fuck you stupid. tch, desperate slut." "you know your parents are literally right outside, what if they come back in? mm? come on, let me really fuck y'deep, give ya what you want.” 

h. kinji : he just wants to get on your nerves, seeing how bold you were acting in the car earlier about being your parents’ best kid, telling kinji what an angel you were in your parents’ eyes. sure, you still are the biggest sweetheart kinji has ever encountered but...little angel? oh, he couldn't wait to prove to you how that’s changed.

“’little angel’, huh? pfft, if only they knew what a slut their precious girl is. what if they walked in right now, seeing how their ‘good little angel’ is taking her boyfriend's dick like a dirty little slut?” “right there? is that where it feels good, cupcake? ohh, shit, baby, did you cum already? aww, you can keep going right?” "i know, i know, 's too much, 's too much, but you're takin' it like a champ, hun, just keep cummin' and let your man fuck you good, baby, pretty please?"

who is loud and doesn't care ↴

t. fumihiko : if you want to keep him quiet, you better kiss him or put something in his mouth to shut him up because he’s so lost in how good you feel that he can’t keep his volume down, knowing that your parents are probably watching tv downstairs.

“i-i can’t stay quiet, ‘m sorry, if we get caught i-i’ll make up to you, just-just lemme go faster, pretty please?” “ah, i know i said one more but can’t stop, n-need to cum again!" "’s already leaking out of you, hohmygodd...g-gotta fill you again, keep you nice and full of my cum, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum again!”

t. aoi : it's those damn sweatpants. the second he changed when you got to your parents’ house, you can fucking see his dick print when he sits down, the way he has to spread his legs not helping. you drag him into the bathroom with the intent to fix it, just to see this motherfucker isn't wearing underwear.

“aww, bunny, ya didn’t have t' lie. if you wanted me to fuck you so bad all you had to do was ask.” “saw you starin’ at it, you're not very subtle...you happy now that 'm fucking you full, bunny? shh, don't whine, babe, 's okay.” “so loud, they're gonna know i’m about to stuff you with my cum. hey, don't cover your mouth, it's alright, i'll buy 'em somethin' to make up for it, bunny.”

k. choso : as you sit next to him at the dinner table, you can feel his leg bouncing, rubbing up against yours. you press your hand to his leg, looking at him with a concerned face when you see how choso is sweating a little, his ears pink. all it takes is one glance down for you to see he got himself worked up. 

“i know, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, b-bad timing but i need you. i’m so fucking hard. g-god, you're just so pretty and-and i gotta fuck you, i promise i'll do it nice 'n' good, you'll love it so much, baby.” “h-huh? fuck, i knoww, g-gotta be quiet but you feel so good. can i go harder? please? i know it’ll make noise, but need to go harder, wanna cum in you, wanna fuckin' stuff your pretty cunt full of my cum, babyyy.”

who manages to stay quiet ↴

h. hiromi : hiromi didn’t know what happened until you sat him on your bed, locking the door behind you before getting in his lap and pulling him into a deep kiss. he doesn’t know how thin the walls are so he opts to keep your lips on his so your moans don’t reach your parents in the living room.

“shhh…stay quiet, sweet girl. i know it’s a lot, but you have to be quiet.” “i can…see a little bump whenever i fucking slide back into you...god. what if i press down on it- oh fuck, don’t squeeze me like that, fuck.” “you’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart, does it feel that good? yeah? hey, hey, shhh, come here. kiss me, don’t be too loud, kiss me when you cum.”

n. kento : kento is hushing you the whole time, not questioning the way you shook him awake while whispering his name. poor thing, he can instantly hear the desperation in your voice, the want and need to take care of you helping him wake up quicker. but your parents were above your room, so kento knows he had to keep you quiet. 

“nonono, let me take care of you darling. i don't mind, you just focus on staying quiet, i’ll make it all go away.” “mhm, i know i’m hitting your spot, angel, but you have to stay quiet. i know it feels good, i knowwwww, but stay quiet for me.” “shh, shh, you can do it, cum quietly like a good girl, i've taught you how to be a good girl, right? come on, be good, be a good girl for me, cum for me.”

k. shiu : it's 4am when he wakes you up, mumbling something about not being able to sleep. you don't even get the chance to ask him what's wrong before he pulls his pajama pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach as a thick stand of precum dripping down the base. he needs help otherwise he’ll be up all night.

"mm, angel, you're being too loud. be quiet for me, don’t need your parents hearing us.” “stop making so much noise before i fuck your mouth instead, or is that what you want?” “i should've had you like this in the first place...poor thing, always so noisy when my cock hits you this deep, right? mmn, just keep your ass up and your face in the pillow, baby, sound so pretty all muffled.”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[megamett44-lover]

can you do the reader seeing matt with a little kid (around 5 or 6) and getting some crazy baby fever? thank youu <3

UGH I LOVE THIS

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: In which Y/n brings Matt to her family reunion

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

Dress Up

Bringing Matt home with me for my annual family reunion was insisted upon by my parents. My whole family absolutely adored him, always asking me to bring him around more. Hence why now, here we were, about a ten minute drive away from my grandparents home, where everyone would be meeting.

Having never met my extended family before, it was understandable for Matt to be nervous. He held my hand as he drove, lightly brushing his thumb over my knuckles every few seconds.

“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hand lightly.

He looks over at me, trying to hide his nervous expression. “All good.” He says.

I nod, turning my attention back to the road. “You don’t have to stress, everyone is gonna love you.”

He chuckles. “If I can win your dad over, I’m sure I can do anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Please.” I say. “You never had to win him over. He was practically calling you ‘son’ before he even met you.”

“Right.” Matt laughs.

Siri breaks our conversation, telling us to turn left and our destination would be on the right. As we pulled into my grandparents drive way, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The long gravel path leading to an old white plantation house surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I had helped my grandmother plant different flowers in her garden for many Summers when I was younger. The neatly trimmed hedges wrapping around the edge of the porch that my grandfather always insisted on keeping up himself because “nobody else could do the job right.”

I noticed many other cars parked out front, indicating a lot of my family members were already here. As we parked, I kissed the back of Matt’s hand. “Ready!” I asked.

“For sure.” Matt smiled.

As we walked onto the porch, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside. We didn’t even have a chance to knock before my grandmother opened the door.

“My Y/n!” She said, embracing me. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Hi, Gran.” I say, returning her hug.

As we pulled away, she noticed Matt beside me.

“Now this must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.” She smiles at Matt.

“All good things, I hope.” Matt chuckles nervously.

I laugh. “Gran, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”

“Pleasure to meet you dear.” My grandmother says, embracing Matt as well. Pulling away, she smiles at us both. “Well come on, everyone has been asking for you.”

Walking instep with my grandmother and Matt slightly ahead, she leans in and whispers softly. “He’s handsome!”

“Oh, Gran!” I laugh.

“I’m serious!” She says. “If I was only 60 years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

As we walked into the crowded parlor, we were greeted by a chorus of “Hey” and “Welcome home”. A lot of family come up to me, since the last time I had seen most of them I was young. Most of them were eager to meet Matt, having heard I was dating a “famous Los Angeles boy”.

Excusing myself for a moment, I go grab a couple waters for Matt and I from the kitchen.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” My aunt says, seeing me enter. Her and a collection of other family members were working on tonight’s dinner, the smell immediately making me hungry.

“Smells great in here.” I compliment, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.

“Thanks!” She beams at me. “Oh, your cousins are around here looking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to see you.”

I laugh. “I’ll keep a look out for them.”

My aunt and uncle had two twin girls, Charlotte and Katherine. They had just turned six and they were adorable. I had spent a lot of my youth babysitting them, resulting in me having an older sister relationship with the girls.

Walking back to the parlor, I notice most of the family had gone to the back yard. Scanning the yard, I cannot seem to see Matt anywhere. I grab my phone to text him, but then I hear giggling coming from down the hall followed by a deeper laugh that I recognize to be Matt’s.

Walking down the hall, I notice the light in the playroom is on. I hear a few voices coming from inside.

“We’re going to make you look so pretty.” I hear a young voice that I recognize to be Katherine’s says.

“Oh, really?” Matt asks.

“Yes!” Charlotte assures. “Y/n is going to love it!”

I peek in the doorway to the playroom to see Matt sat on the floor, with my cousins braiding his hair. I notice he has a few hair bows in, along with a feather boa around his neck.

I giggle softly, watching my cousins give him a makeover.

“Can we paint your nails?” Charlotte eagerly asks.

Matt looks down at his nails, the old paint peeling off of them.

“I think I’m in need of a manicure, so sure!” Matt agrees.

“Kat, grab the princess stickers and pink polish!” Charlotte demands.

Hearing this, I accidentally laugh too loud, giving my position away. All three of their heads whip in my direction.

“Y/N!” Charlotte and Katherine say in unison, running up and hugging my legs.

“Hi, girls.” I say, bending down to hug them. “I see you’ve stolen my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think he looks pretty?” Katherine asks, motioning towards Matt.

“I think he looks gorgeous.” I say, making eye contact with Matt, who chuckles softly.

“We were going to paint his nails, do you wanna help?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course!” I say, eagerly.

“Yay!” Both girls say in unison.

Sitting down, we begin painting Matt’s nails a bright shade of pink, complete with princess stickers on every other finger. When we were finished, we slowly walk Matt over to the mirror to check out his new look.

“I look awesome!” Matt says, bending down to the girls level. “Thank you, girls.” He opens his arms for a hug, as both girls practically tackle him.

I smile softly, my heart warming at the sight.

“I think next time, we should bring our princess dress for you to wear.” Katherine says.

Matt laughs. “I think that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, but we have to bring the Cinderella dress.” Charlotte says. Katherine raises a puzzled eyebrow. “To match his eyes, duh!”

“What do you think, Y/n?” Charlotte asks.

“I think he would make a beautiful Cinderella.” I smile, causing Matt and the girls to laugh.

A loud voice interrupts our laughter from the kitchen.

“Girls, dinner!” I hear my Uncle call.

“Our dad wants us!” Katherine tells Matt. “But we’ll finish this makeover another day.”

“I’ll be counting on it.” Matt winks, ruffling her hair.

The girls laugh as they run down the hall to the kitchen. I look at Matt, who’s covered in glitter from the feather boa.

“I’ll be their Cinderalla, as long as I’m your Prince Charming.” Matt says, pulling the boa off.

I laugh. “God, you’re cheesy.” I grab his hands, looking at the pink artwork on his fingernails. “I can’t wait to have this life with you one day.”

He pulls me into a hug, covering me in glitter. “I promise, one day, we’ll have all of this.” He says. “Every day.”

I lean back, grabbing one of the braided strands of hair. “I’m really digging these braids, though.”

“Yeah?” Matt laughs.

“Yeah.” I smile, pressing a small kiss on his lips.

“Now c’mon, I’m starving!” I say, leading him to the kitchen.

Matt stops on his tracks. “What, dressed like this?” He asks.

I smirk. “What, you embarrassed?”

“Never.” He replies, putting his boa back on before we exit the playroom.

[jayden-writes]

fragile

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)

summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.

Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.

Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”

Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.

“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.

Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.

“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.

Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.

“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.

“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.

Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.

Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.

It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.

“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.

“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”

“Huh? Come again?”

“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.

“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.

“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.

“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.

“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.

“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”

“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”

“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”

Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.

“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.

“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.

“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”

“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”

He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.

“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”

Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.

Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.

“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.

“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Fine…” you breathed.

“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”

[slvthrs]

I'M SO FUCKING OBSESSED WITH YOU Y'KNOW | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your boyfriend loves the way the hot weather makes you look

VINNIE HACKER X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise kink, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), hair pulling, slight vouyerism

word count: 1k <3

California is so fucking hot sometimes. The way that shirts stick to skin and the way that when you would walk out of the house and immediately be hit with a wave of heat that absolutely envelopes you. You really wanna move sometimes but you never would unless your boyfriend came with you. Your 5 foot 11, sandy beach blond with freckles and brown eyes, the archetype of someone from California- Vinnie.

From where you live the crashing of the beach waves helps to lull you to sleep in the night and sounds of beachgoers is your alarm clock and as much as you love living here, the heat will always get to you- it’s uncomfortable and suffocating. You’re a person who likes the cold and your boyfriend is exactly the opposite- he’s warm and sweet and kind of like a loyal dog. 

So that’s the reason why you’re currently laying back down in the shortest skirt you could find and a tiny crop top with no bra, sucking on this popsicle like it’s your last meal in the world. 

You let your head dangle off the edge of the counter with your body fully on display for no one. You should be a lot more careful with your boyfriend's roommate walking the halls but he’s seen me in more compromising positions. The sound of the neighborhood is bouncing off the walls of the kitchen and you can hear a soft pair of footsteps coming down from the house's gym. 

And speak of the devil and he may appear- your boyfriend walks into the kitchen to grab some water and so you can shamelessly check him out. He’s just wearing his sweatpants which rest dangerously low on his waist and he is slightly wet and a towel is thrown over his shoulder- which you presume is for wiping up but what catches your attention is the way his hands flex and how big they are compared to yours- It’s like he could drown you in his hands and you would never complain.

But you compose yourself, “Hi babe how was the work out?” you say stretching yourself out more so he can see me even better

He looks startled, “Shit I didn’t realize you were here” He says as he turns to look at me and the moment your eyes meet, you both know that you both want each other,

“Uh it went well, I like the outfit” He says taking a swig of his water

“Thanks” I say with the most innocent expression you can muster and you sit up to look at him doe-eyed “I like your fit as well” You chuckled referencing to how little he's wearing

“Ha ha very funny I work out in this, what is your excuse for looking like that?” He says with fake annoyance

“One, it’s fucking boiling in Cali and two, what do you mean ‘looking like that’” You say  emphasising the ‘that’

He groans, “You just, I dunno, look hot” He admits

“Well yeah it’s like 90 degrees outside” You joke

“You fucking know I didn’t mean that” He says walking closer to me and placing the water bottle away and placing both his hands on either sides of me- caging me in

I finish your popsicle and hook your hands around his neck playing with the wooden stick of the popsicle, “Hmm, I don’t think I know what you mean?” You say faking your innocence

“Oh yeah you wanna play it like that? Fine we can do it like that” He states as he crashes your lips together, you both taste like sweat, ice, and cherry popsicle along with pent up aggression of not having even seen each other in days due to your contrasting schedule. 

He lifts his hands to the hem of your shirt to take it of revealing your braless state, and looks at you in a state of awe, “God your such a fucking whore and you love to pretend your innocent,” He says as he starts to kiss your chest and starts to trail down and before he reaches your skirt he flips me over so your stomach is pressed up against the counter, “It kinda pisses me off but mainly turns me on.”

The chill of the counter makes you almost moan from how hot you are. He flips up your skirt and pulls your panties aside to lean up his cock with your clothed cunt and slams into you, gaining a completely pornographic moan that puts Satan to shame. 

His hands take refuge on your waist as he sets an unrelenting pace tumbling you so close to your climax. One of his hands finds your clit as he circles and teases it making you almost cry of complete pleasure but he stops as the same hand finds your hair and pulls it back so our eyes connect.

Instead of finding a sort of ravaged animalistic look on Vinnie’s face he looks at me in awe as if you look like the world's finest art and dips his head down to your spine and kisses upward and leaves marks all over your neck as he leans into your ears and whispers, 

“I’m fucking obsessed with you y’know”

And the words of praise cause everything to come crashing down- as you cum he lets go of his grip on your hair and it’s replaced with slight kisses on your back that trails down and he soothes you out of your orgasm.

With a few more thrusts he’s following you and then he pulls out of me but his grip on you stays because you both know that if he lets go you might just collapse. 

You stay there just for a bit, “Let’s go before Jett finds us sweetheart.” He says as he’s picking you up and carries you bridal style to your shared bedroom and he draws you into a bath.

[artiststarme]

Swimming Ground

Warning: mentions of su!cide

Steve hated his pool. Not swimming or lounging near water but the pool in his backyard in particular. He hated the reminders it held. The pool in the Harrington backyard held too much power over him.

He remembers when he was in the eighth grade and his parents decided to get the pool. He remembers how happy they were to be one of the only families in Hawkins with a new in ground pool that Steve could practice for the swim team in. They never could have imagined that just two weeks later, they’d find Steve floating in it. His mom looked out of the kitchen window to find her beautiful boy fully clothed, face down in the water. They didn’t love the pool so much after that.

They didn’t love their son too much after that either. To his parents, Steve had tried to take their precious boy away from them and they could never truly forgive him for being so selfish. They started taking more business trips and longer vacations away from home to forget about the son that wanted to die.

And Steve was left at home with the constant reminder that he failed.

He used the pool to make friends and to throw rambunctious parties but he never stepped foot in it. The first time he did since the eighth grade was with Nancy when he pushed her in. That was the night his pool took Barb. After that night, the kids thought his hesitation around his pool was because of guilt over losing Nancy’s best friend which he went with because it was so much easier to explain.

He’d throw them pool parties and play lifeguard but he would not touch the water.

Some nights, Robin would swing by to the Harrington house just to find Steve sitting at the pool’s edge. Close but never touching the water. She’d lure him inside to complain about girls or any other topic that helped distract her from the uneasy feeling she got when she saw him sitting there.

After their final bout with the Upside Down, Loch Nora was destroyed. Steve’s house was barely standing and his backyard was a chasm. The pool that had haunted him for years was gone but the thoughts that gave the pool such power remained. Steve didn’t know why he deserved to live more than Eddie and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. As he thought about his fallen friend that could’ve been more, he yearned to feel the floating like he had in eighth grade. He wanted to feel his lungs burn for air and the fire in his chest when he finally breathed in.

But the pool was gone, he couldn’t do what he’d wanted to since he first tried and even though it was gone, the temptation remained. Instead of sinking into the chilly water, he slouched down next to the blazing chasm where his pool used to be. He felt the heat envelop his body and knew that it was the right decision. He was supposed to perish in the Upside Down as a martyr fighting for his friends. That didn’t work out though so now he had to pull the role of a coward and die a fiery, reasonless, self-imposed death alone.

He didn’t leave a note, didn’t think he needed to. His friends would care or they wouldn’t but nothing he said would make the situation better.

So, he closed his eyes and stepped into the void just as he’d done so long ago. There wasn’t peace or panic like there was the last time, just nothingness as he stepped into the crack in the earth.

Strangely, the afterlife wasn’t dark as he’d expected (but to be fair, he hadn’t thought about it much). Instead, it looked exactly like the Upside Down almost as if the chasm wasn’t a portal to hell but a gate to the alternate Hawkins.

When Steve sat up, still alive despite his efforts, it was face to face with Eddie. A bloody and scarred Eddie that looked a little pissed off but Eddie nonetheless.

“Well hello Harrington, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Goddammit, the swimming excuse wasn’t going to work this time.

[freak-accident419]

Baby Fever

Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

Summary: You never liked babies. You always believed they were burdensome and irritating. However, after having a baby lay peacefully in your arms, you made the decision—you wanted to raise one with your husband, Mike.

WC: 2.0k

Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, you two use surrogacy for your baby (hence the possibility of a gender neutral reader :3), you’re married to Mike, takes place at least 3-4 years after the events of FNAF, Abby is a working young adult, slightly ooc Mike(?)

-

You always hated babies. Always.

You hated how loud and relentless they were. How almost every second they cried and screamed for no reason, as well as the fact that they were gross, somehow always sticky, and messy. While the fact that they were literally infants gave them an excuse for this behavior, you couldn’t help but be absolutely pissed by them.

You were at a small get-together with your old friends. You haven’t seen them in a while, and you were always close with them before, so you all decided to hang out together one day and catch up with each other.

You were at your friend Andrew’s house, along with the rest of your old friends and had your husband Mike attend as well.

The small party went fairly smoothly; you had some drinks, laughed, caught up, just the usual. Everyone there already knew your husband—who was a bit awkward and quiet—so there wasn’t a need for any introductions. You, however, finally met your friend Evelyn’s girlfriend, which was a great encounter.

You sat beside Mike, his arm tenderly wrapped around your shoulder as you continued to speak with your friends.

Until suddenly, Andrew’s wife, Adalyn, came in the room frantically, with her 3-month-old baby cradled in her arms.

Oh, brother, you thought.

“Hey, uh,” she began, looking around the room until her eyes landed on you. “Oh, Y/n! Can you watch him, please? I kinda gotta go to the little girls’ room.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what she was insinuating. “Wh—Wait, why can’t you ask, like, anybody else?”

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s really urgent. It’s a bit loud here, so just, like, take him to the nursery room,” she pleaded, in which you just continued to refuse.

“But—why can’t—C’mon, Adalyn, Andrew knows how much I can’t… really tolerate babies.” You argue, standing up from the couch. “I don’t—I don’t even know how to hold one—”

“Goddammit, Y/n, here, just—” She guided your arms to make you properly hold the baby, which you were slightly unnerved by. It was way too delicate. You were afraid of this responsibility your friend put onto you. And you felt even worse because of how much you hated babies in general. “There. There, you got it. Good. Okay, I—I gotta go,” she stated quickly, kissing her baby on the forehead, then running off to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes as you uncomfortably held the infant, looking down at Mike, who remained on the couch. There was a small smirk on his lips. He found it amusing that you were in a situation you’d loathe.

“You think this is funny?”

He shrugged with a playful expression on his face.“Comedy gold.”

You scoffed, and then heard a loud laugh come from the kitchen, only to remember how noisy the atmosphere was. And the last thing you wanted was for this damned baby to start crying.

You looked around then sighed. “I’m gonna have to take this little guy to the nursery room upstairs. You gonna be okay down here without me?”

He smiled softly, giving you a nod. “Yeah. No worries.” You leaned down to give him a peck on the lips which he reciprocated. “Good luck with him. Hey, what’d you call babies again that one time? Wasn’t it ‘hellspawn’?”

You groaned, “Just… shut up, Mike,” but you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

You reached the nursery room, shutting the door so that all the voices downstairs were muffled. The baby was fairly heavy, and the staircase was pretty long, so you let out a breath of relief once you finally sat down on a wooden chair beside the baby crib.

You look down at him. Andrew and Adalyn’s baby Thomas. You stared at him with a bit of apathy and indifference, but the infant looked at you with its big, green eyes, almost longingly.

You noticed this, but you didn’t really think too much of it.

“What are you looking at?” You retort quietly.

He met you with silence.

You had him in your arms, cradled, nearly. His eyes continued to stare into yours. He was quiet, too. You couldn’t really tell what it was; curiosity, admiration, inexpressible hatred?—no, it couldn’t be.

It was definitely admiration.

“You think you’re so charming, huh?”

Silence.

“I don’t understand! What’s supposed to be so cute about you? Like, for all I know, you’re just a tiny, undeveloped… thing… person…”

More silence.

“People admire you and all you do is just… burp and cry. I seriously don’t get the appeal.”

However, your arms and your hands began to feel… tingly. You felt warmth radiating from the small baby as it proceeded to lay in your arms. You fixed your position a bit, letting it rest at an angle. Its little body was close to yours, against your chest. And then suddenly, you never felt so… at peace.

“Jesus Christ,” your voice began to become softer and quieter, “What in the damn hell are you doing to me?”

The baby’s green eyes gazed into your eyes, bright and full of adoration. It admired you. You wouldn’t be sure as to why, but it looked at you as if you were beautiful; that even while it barely knew anything at all due to its scarcely developed brain, it was sure of at least just one thing—that you were beautiful.

You felt so strangely warm inside. The orange sunset inhabited the room from the window as you continued to look at the baby in your arms. You felt safe. And you were sure that it felt safe too. And so, all you wanted to do was to keep it that way.

“Your mom shouldn’t be taking this long in the bathroom.” You paused in realization. “They totally set me up, didn’t they?” The infant just blinked at you.

You’ve always hated babies. They’re dumb, loud, and ugly.

But perhaps baby Thomas was an exception.

He was actually pretty cute, if you were going to be honest with yourself…

Babies could be pretty cute…

You never felt so… parental in your life. And for a split second, it didn’t feel like a responsibility, but rather a purpose. You wanted to keep him safe as long as he was under your care. You just wanted to stay like this for a long time. Just having him comfortably in your arms.

And you barely noticed the sound of the door opening and Adalyn and Mike stepping in because you were far too entranced in the domesticity in all of this—you finally understood why some people had baby fever.

“Y/n?” Mike’s presence didn’t even make you flinch. You were far too placid. The state you were in had Mike smitten; he never expected you to be this good, as well as peaceful, with babies.

“Just… Just a little longer with him…” You requested softly, never taking your eyes off of the baby. A love-struck grin appeared on your husband’s face as he watched you like this.

You wanted this.

And most of all, you wanted this with Mike.

***

“What was all that about?” Mike asked as you two sat on the porch outside to get space and air. “I thought you, like, hated babies, and stuff.”

“I don’t… I don’t hate them entirely,” you say under your breath.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You complain about them just about once every week,” he chuckles. His lighthearted manner began to fade as he notices your silence, followed by your face of longing and fidgeting fingers. “You okay?” He placed his hand on your thigh.

“Yeah, I just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to place your words. “Remember how… Abby would sometimes talk about how ‘cool’ it’d be for her to… be an auntie?” Mike nodded, listening carefully. “And, well… you know… in the past I was always against having kids… Being afraid of all that responsibility and commitment… Mostly just despising babies.”

You sighed. “Mike, I… I want us to have a baby.”

His lips parted in surprise—only because he never expected you to want this. You were always against this idea, you’ve talked about it several times in the past. If anything, he didn’t know that the ‘exposure therapy’ that Adalyn planned would’ve driven you to want a baby. “Wait. Seriously?”

You grabbed his hand, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “I don’t know, I just… I think we could do it, you know… start our own little family…”

He looked at your eyes deeply, with love and care.

Mike always wanted this with you. He loved you, that was for sure. He wanted to raise a baby of his own with you, to start a family together and take his relationship with you to the next level. To say the least, he was pretty thrilled by this.

His hands immediately cupped your face to kiss you passionately, lips pressed lovingly to yours. “I would love that so much with you.” He smiled softly at you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mutter before interlocking his fingers with yours and meeting his lips once more.

*** Years Later ***

She had his father’s big, brown eyes.

The process was excruciatingly costly, long, but absolutely worth it. You and Mike decided to get a surrogate so that the baby would at least have some of his DNA—otherwise, the other option was to adopt.

You were in the same position as you were years ago: sitting on a chair serenely with a baby snug in your arms.

And just like those years ago, the baby quietly looked into your eyes, lovingly and admiringly. You smiled softly, letting the state of tranquility take over.

She was your entire world. You would do anything for her.

You loved your little girl.

You press a small kiss on her soft forehead, continuing to warmly hold her to your chest as she laid across your arms, supporting her neck and bottom with your hands. It felt good, to have something so precious and innocent in your care.

Mike finally entered the room minutes after, alluding that he came back from dropping off Abby at her work. He grinned warmly, walking towards you, pressed a long, affectionate kiss on your lips, and then a kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

“Do you… think we’re gonna be good parents?” You ask restfully.

“Wait, you’re asking that now?” He raised his eyebrows.

“No, I meant… C’mon, you know what I mean,” you sigh.

“Okay, then yes. I’m sure of it,” he asserted. “You’re gonna be an amazing parent for her, Y/n. We’re going to be amazing parents for her. I’ll do everything I can for her.”

Mike learned about taking care of babies at a very young age because of Abby. So it wouldn’t be too difficult to do it a second time, especially now that he would have you to help. He wanted to make sure that his new daughter would have a better childhood than he had, and he knew he would be extra cautious to ensure that nothing would ever take her away from him. Ever since Garrett, he promised himself to never let that happen to anyone ever again. And you would always assure him that he could keep it.

You look at your husband—the father of your child—dotingly. “I love you so much, Mike.”

“I love you too, baby,” he says before pressing his lips to yours once more.

Then, a soothing beat.

“She has your eyes,” you murmured softly. It was a well-known fact. You both have known this ever since she was brought into this world—it was actually the first thing you two noticed about her. The rich, brown irises that Mike possessed was passed down to your daughter. And while none of your features could be passed down to her, it didn’t matter at all to you. She was still yours. Yours and Mike’s. And you were going to raise her together.

She had her father’s eyes.

And Mike never got tired of being reminded of it, especially by you.

“Yeah… I know.”

[sakurayumekun]

PRO-ANA GUIDE HANDBOOK 

An anorexic mind

First of all, let's work on the psychology first. Be sure to fuck up your relationship with food from the start. You want to make yourself as neurotic as possible about food, eating, kitchens, cutlery, refrigerators, restaurants, and hey, why not stretch this out even further and start hating the actual source of foods, in other words the actual animals and plants. I myself am utterly opposed to factories. Any kind of factory. Even pillow factories, hell they're all the same. But you! Spread those bad thoughts! Hate that chicken!!! Unless of course, you're going for the sympathetic, oh the poor animals, vegan slant. That's a good one too. Firstly, reaffirm your mission. Immortalise it. Buy a fat, blank notebook, this will become your own personal anorexic sanctuary of sorts. Write down WHY you want to lose weight. Be sure to include things like how you will feel when you're 10lbs lighter, the glorious clothes you will fit into, an occasion that you would like to be thinner for like your sixteenth birthday, etc. Give yourself a final goal, and break it up into several, smaller, goalpoints. For example, if you weigh 140lbs and would like to eventually be 90lbs, list points along the way which signify a victory for you. For example, 130lbs, and then 115lbs, then 110lbs, then 100lbs, and so on. Re-read this again and again for inspiration. You will be using this notebook later to create tackytown anorexia-inspired collages and other paraphernalia.

Visualisation. Following the same strain as NLP, or Neuro Linguistic Programming, we must use the principles of association to retrain your consciousness, and sub-consciousness, to turn food into one of the greater evils of the world. (Read: the greatest evil!!) Start by associating food with disgusting things. For your first ever fast, it may be helpful to draw pictures of juicy red apples, somehow morphing into giant dead rotting pigs. Plaster these all around your house, preferably on the food itself. Never underestimate the power of images. Put pictures of fat girls on your fridge, or better yet, pictures of yourself; you're pretty fat. Conversely, stick pictures of rakish models everywhere you can see them, for inspiration, and a bit of productive self-loathing. Also, practise writing things like "I'm fat" over and over. You want to drill this into your brain. "I will be thin" is a good one, as well as other "I will" affirmations. These are positive statements and very conducive to big time weight loss. Now create a list of suitable punishments either for thinking of food, or for caving in and eating food itself. A good one to try is to keep a rubber band on your hand and flick your skin whenever you think of eating. Eventually you will have a swollen hand, and a shrunken body; you will have ceased thinking of food so much. Other punishments include ridiculous amounts of exercise, purging, self-mutilation, isolation, basic denial of necessary comforts such as blankets on a cold night, or shelter when it is raining... Or simply menial, disgusting tasks such as cleaning the bathroom. Remember, you need discipline. Invent pain and hassles for yourself. Trick yourself into believing your life sucks. Be mean to people so that they instigate fights, just to make you constantly on edge, or nervous, so you cant eat. After all, you'll be light-headed and dizzy, and irritable from not eating, so you have an excuse. I used to love when dad got mad at me because it meant I was so upset I could not eat. Become an angst ridden teenager. You'll be making yourself nauseous from worry and self hatred in no time. Find another anorexic to consort with. Whether this be in real life, or on the internet. You can swap tips and indulge in your little sordid anorexia world together, force each other to exercise, pat each other on the back when you reach goals, etc. You want to completely surround yourself with all thoughts of anorexia. Find pro-anorexia websites, or create your own. Sign up for one of the dozens of pro-anorexic mailing lists at Yahoo! and you'll be bombarded daily with like minded individuals. Now, immerse yourself further in anorexia propaganda, read anorexia or otherwise 'thin' inspired literature, listen to anorexic music, watch as many triggering films as you can get your delicate little mitts on, look up to very thin hollywood stars and supermodels. Also, visit as many of the aforementioned pro-anorexia sites as you can to get a bunch of quotes and mantras to write in your anorexia notebook, and repeat inside your head daily. I have compiled a list of such sources of thinspiration.

Thinspiration

Triggering music

This is essential. You must familiarise yourself with the very teenage and angstyartists and be sure to play the music over and over to thoroughly depress yourself. Ones to keep in mind are:

Fiona Apple - "Paper Bag" ... Hunger hurts but starving works...

Silverchair - "Ana's Song (Open Fire)" ... And I need you now somehow, and I need you now somehow ... On my knees for you... In my head the flesh seems thicker...

 Juliana Hatfield - "Feed Me"... Oh baby if only you knew, I'm down to 102...

Tori Amos - "Jackie's Strength" ... You're only popular with anorexia, so I turn myself inside out, in hopes someone will see...

Anorexic mantras

 You must collect as many of these as possible. Write them in your anorexia notebook, memorise them, let them comfort you. Some examples are:

"An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person." 

 "You will be tempted quite frequently, and you will have to choose whether you will enjoy yourself hugely in the 20 minutes or so that you will be consuming the excess calories, or whether you will dislike youself cordially for 2 or 3 days for your lack of willpower." 

 "I'm not starving myself...I'm perfecting my emptiness." 

 "I can get thinner. I can cut it all off. I can wear low slung Levi's and crop tops and long straight dresses like willowy models, and I gasp with the breathlessness of being airborne. I can fly and be free. Jesus! I never realised how easy it was!" 

 "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels." 

 "The greasy fry, it cannot lie, its truth is written on your thigh," 

 Devour literature, not food

Words and text are very very triggering when it comes to not eating. For one thing, it gives you a world to inhabit, your very own private, magnificent anorexia world which nobody else around you can touch, and you shall have characters to understand you. You will be so riveted that you will not need to eat. Books to check out include:

The best little girl in the world by Steven Levenkron

Wasted by Marya Hornbacher

The fountainhead by Ayn Rand - not about anorexia per se, but Dominique

Francon is the fucking epitome of ethereal, insubstantial, bony grace.

 I am an artichoke by Lucy Frank

Starving for attention by Cherry Boone O'Neill

 Hunger scream by Ivy Ruckman

 Diary of an eating disorder by Chelsea Smith and Beverly Runyon

My sister's Bones by Cathi Hanauer

Stick figure by Lori Gottlieb

Eve's apple by Jonathan Rosen

Thinspiring films and TV shows

These might be about anorexia itself, or it might simply be glamorous and include very thin beautiful people. Movies and television programmes I know others find thinspiring are:

Girl, Interrupted

For The Love Of Nancy

 Ally McBeal

Role models

 You need somebody to idolise. You must research him or her to the bones and become as close to her as possible. Become obsessed. Some suitable examples include those in the following list, who are either very skinny, or have, or have had anorexia:

Kate Moss - 90's waif

 Angelina Jolie - skinny sexy actress, e.g. Girl, Interrupted and Gia

Christina Ricci - actress, had anorexia

Calista Flockhart - Ally McBeal

Lara Flynn Boyle - glamorous and snobby, never eats

Tracey Gold - actress who suffered from anorexia

Karen Carpenter - musician and classic anorexic

Portia de Rossi - actress on Ally McBeal who went through a stage of dangerous dieting

Geri Halliwell - formerly Ginger Spice, engaged in a 'thin war' with:

 Victoria Beckham - formerly Posh Spice

Courtney Cox - actress on Friends, bony and gaunt

Twiggy - iconoclastic model

Mary Kate - had anorexia... perfection

Jodie Kidd - impossibly thin model

Nicole Richie - Thin thin thin

 Audrey Hepburn - quintessential class, very petite

This should be enough to sufficiently fuck up and cloud your perceptions. Above all, convince yourself you are above others, a hero, owing to your spectacular powers of restraint. Feel elitist. Feel as though you are somehow super-human for resisting the urge to eat. Feel better than the other mere mortals who dig in to their cereal and their donuts. Believe in the power of starving as though it were a religion.

Extreme dieting

Now we can move on to the actual act of excessive dieting itself. First off we should establish clear limits. Make up rules you cannot deviate from. Only eat yellow foods on Monday, and brown foods on Tuesday. Or only eat every other day. Or only eat at night. Or only eat on days with the letter "u" in them. Or become a vegan. Or a fruitarian. Or follow your own version of a well known diet, such as the ever popular low carb diets, e.g., the Zone Diet, Atkin's Diet. Use your imagination. I knew a model who swore her secret was living on sushi, candy, oranges, cigarettes, and water. Another tip to try is to only allow yourself one food a day. You will get sick of the taste and therefore eat less due to boredom.

 Now, compile a list of safe foods. Here is a fairly comprehensive list:

Low Cal Jelly (or Jello, for you Americans)

Celery - it is composed highly of water, it is crunchy, which is said to cause you to eat less, owing to the amount you have to chew it, it is considered acatabolic food

Carrots are also another safe vegetable (although most vegetables can be on your safe list, these are merely the safest of the safe)

Salsa and mustard - dieting staples. You can dip vegetables in them, they are fat free and low cal, and salsa brings cravings to an abrupt halt.

Spicy foodsare also thought to fire up your metabolism

 Vinegar - thought to thoroughly reduce your appetite. It is suggested you drink a tablespoon or two before each meal.

Lemons dipped in a sugar substitute such as Splenda or Nutrasweet. (note: In some anorexia circles, even fruit is no good, besides oranges, which are a 50cal food)

Broth (only 5 calories per cube!!)

Egg white - much needed protein

Pickles

Lettuce - an absolute 'nothing' food

Cucumbers - very very low cal

Soup

Safe foods are merely foods that are safe to eat if you are craving foods outside your set meals. They are extremely low cal, or no cal. As for your actual daily intake of food, most wannabe anorexics tend to stick within the 500 - 1000 calorie range depending on how much exercise they do. Never be shy when it comes to considering taking certain drugs to reduce or diminish appetite. Some antidepressant medication such as Wellbutrin have this effect, as well as Topamax, which is originally an anti-convulsive but has been and can be prescribed for things such as ADD and bipolar disorder. Steal your little brother's ADD medication. Dexedrine is gold when it comes to killing appetite. Just ignore the paranoia and nervousness that comes with it. Think about diet pills and supplements such as Metabolife and Ephedra.

Day to day

Now we move on to the ever important area of ritual and habits, tips & tricks, to get down to a science.

Graze constantly throughout the day so that your metabolism never gets the chance to rest and become sluggish. Eating 100 calories five times a day is better than eating one meal consisting of 500 calories.

Fool your metabolism by constantly changing the number of calories you consume daily. This will prevent your body going into starvation mode, meaning that lesser amounts of calories will make you gain weight. For instance, eat 500 calories on Monday, 100 on Tuesday, 800 on Wednesday, no calories on Thursday, and 400 calories on Friday.

Get a full night's sleep, at least eight hours. Although staying up late does make you burn more calories, don't become sleep-deprived or your metabolism will become sleepy. Your appetite will even increase by 15%.

Record everything you eat in your anorexia notebook. This serves to motivate you, as well as to be aware of all the extra calories you may not be aware you are consuming. It may also let you identify emotional or environmental triggers, such as boredom or sadness.

Take vitamin pills frequently so your body doesn't crave nutrients, causing binges.

Diet coke and other diet sodas cause that bubbly, full feeling in your stomach, for about 1 calorie per glass.

Brush your teeth and tongue all the time. The feeling in your mouth will ease cravings and additionally, food will taste yukky with toothpaste, so whats the point of eating it?

Drink water like a fish. Drink a glass of water, or a diet soda, every hour on the hour. Drink water every time you have the urge to snack. Ice water is better because your body will burn more calories to heat it up. Drink water with meals to prevent overeating. Bear in mind that often we mistake thirst for hunger.

Caffeine will speed up your metabolism. Have two or three servings a day, in the form of black sugarless coffee, or caffeine pills, or guarana. If stacked with ephedra and aspirin, a synergistic effect will occur that imitates the effects of speed or other amphetamines. Do be aware that this practice can be rather dangerous.

Exercise. Not only will you burn off the calories you consume when you do eat, but it will increase your metabolism for some time afterwards. As well, the consequential muscle mass will increase the calories you burn at rest. It also suppresses appetite. Try running, or buy yourself a skipping rope.

Stand up and move about constantly. Compulsively fidget. It does add up to an estimated extra 500 calories burned a day. Twitch your leg while studying, for example. Also, sit up straight - you'll burn more calories.

Have a very busy and active schedule. It will burn more calories than sitting in your room thinking about not eating, and make sure you don't have enough time to binge.

Find a something other than food to satisfy your oral fixation. Choices include things like smoking, chewing gum, water, iced tea, sugarless mints, and diet coke.

Put a small coin in a jar every time you resist a craving, or exercise when majorly exhausted, etc. This will motivate you, build up confidence in your starving abilities, and keep track of your successes. As well as give you extra cash to splurge on some fantastical treat when you reach your first major weight loss goal.

The type of music you listen to while you eat affects how much and how quickly you consume. The faster the music, the more you eat. Try to listen to nice slow music when you eat.

Eat sweets and the foods you crave early on in the day. This will give you more time to burn them off and it will eliminate cravings later.

Eat while in the front of the mirror naked. You will be completely repulsed, and repelled from the food. This is a good thing.

Feel your hunger..don't try to suppress it. If you're hungry that means you're losing weight; you WANT to be hungry. If you're not then you're not doing it right. In time you will get a wonderful high off of being hungry and thoroughly enjoy the sensation. Hunger is not your enemy! The sooner this is understood, the sooner you will reach your goals.

Did you know that there are 2 pounds of dead skin on you right now!!?! Thats right! 2 POUNDS! ...if you're underweight or in starvation mode your body does not "shed" its skin the way it should. It holds on to it. Use an exfoliator for your face, and a loofah brush or scrub for your body. Make a stack of magazines that weighs the amount you want to lose. As you lose, take off the appropriate amount of magazines. Seeing the weight like that may help you realise what a difference it will make when it is all off. When you're feeling weak Here are some things which will help when your willpower is very feeble, to ward off the urge to eat, or worse, binge!

Pinch your thigh and see how you don't need food, because you should be eating your own flesh all away from the inside first, before you are deserving of actual legitimate sustenance.

Go to the library. You can research dieting or whatever, or you can read the classics, or some of the aforementioned listerature. Or you can do homework, or write letters, but the beauty of it is, since no food or drink is allowed, you'll have no choice but to abstain from a meal.

Buy some baby teething gel and rub it on your tongue, to numb your tastebuds.

If you're even considering eating, just hold your breath and count to 100. Chances are that you'll convince youself not to eat whatever it is you're craving in that time.

The scent of coffee has been proven to lessen ones appetite.

Chew the food but don't swallow it. Spit it in the bin.

If you're feeling dangerous, plan out the next few hours so that you're occupied for every single minute. Write a list of things to do for every 15 minutes. eg. exercise, surf the internet, email your friends, clean a room, read a book.

If you're feeling brave enough to face the kitchen, go there and throw out any potential binge foods. If you must, pour bleach/disinfectant/dishwashing detergent on the food, and then throw it away! (Anorexics are known for retrieving food from bins, or stealing food from strange places).

Pinch your ear! Apply pressure to the front of the ear, one at a time. The front of the ear is apparently a pressure point, in the area that controls hunger.

Let perfume replace chocolate. Every time you have a craving, or pass a bakery, sniff some Chanel no. 5. Apply it to a tissue and carry it with you.

Smell has a powerful effect on appetite.

Clean something. Cleaning something dirty can make you lose your appetite. The toilet, the litter box, under the kitchen sink, scrubbing out the garbage bin, anything grimy or smelly. The mess, along with the smell of the cleaner, can put you off food for a while.

Become a teenage artist. Write anorexic poetry, tragic little verses about bones and stomachs and evil evil capsicums. Anorexics are ever so creative.

Collect pictures of skinny girls. Stick them all in your notebook. Draw pictures of painful bony girls with tear stained faces and their head in their hands (their spines sticking out). This will take up most of your time.

Hiding it

 Anorexia is supposed to be a private and tortured place, dontcha know. Deny it at all costs. Pretend you have not noticed the pounds dropping off you. Don't be suspicious. Here are some relevant tips:

Spend time making yourself look healthy.

Drink lots of water and apply a fake tan.

Wear makeup so that you have some colour, and keep your hair looking nice and shiny, take vitamins.

Smile. 

Whenever you do decide to eat, do it in the company of others.

That way they can't say they never see you touch food.

On your way out, heat up a slice of pizza or prepare a snack to 'eat on the run'.

Of course, you will dispose of the food at your first convenience.

Leave a dirty plate lying around every so often for your parents to yell at you about.

Drink out of opaque cups, and spit your food into it whilst preteding to drink. They'll never know.

Eat really slowly because if everybody else is on their third slice of pizza, they'll assume you are too, even if you're still finishing your first.

Sign out of Hotmail and clear the history before you get off of the Internet. This will eliminate autofill being ever so helpful while your mum is researching aardvarks, and coming up with www.anorexicsanonymous.com for her. In short, don't leave traces lying around for others to find.

I trust that this guide to becoming a better anorexic will serve you well on your quest to being emaciated and ahem, gorgeous.

Remember, think thin, and try not to faint too often or die.

[rougepancake]

RIGHT HERE

In which you take your boyfriend to a party and he gets jealous of your friends

Ft. Caesar Zeppeli, Joseph Joestar, Rohan Kishibe, Jotaro Kujo, Dio Brando, Jonathan Joestar

Warnings: Slightly suggestive. Mentions of alcohol. Google translated Italian. Gender neutral reader. Not proofread.

CAESAR ZEPPELI

You stood there, chatting excitedly with your friends about how your week had been. They listened intently and you all spent a good amount of time just exchanging stories over the loud music that was playing from the living room of the house.

You could barely hear them, but you didn’t mind. The environment around you was anything but quiet, which was fair since you were at Joseph Joestar’s party.

It had been hours since it started, and some people were starting to pack up and leave, taking some of the loud buzz with them.

Eventually it began to calm down, and it was just you and your best friend sitting on the couch, enjoying one another’s company in peace.

The two of you continued in your tipsy conversation, giggling frequently as you spoke. It was nice, honestly. Your week had been nothing short of a nightmare, only adding to the amount of stress you were under. So when you found out about Joseph’s party, you immediately decided to take Caesar and head over.

Speaking of Caesar…

The party had been going on for hours and you had yet to see him.

As you were speaking to your friend, you found yourself being interrupted by the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Caesar…” You whispered, turning to look at him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing at the flesh gently. He looked up and shot your best friend a glare, which resulted in them excusing themselves and leaving the two of you alone.

His grip on you tightened, his back pressing up against your chest as he continued to kiss and bite as your neck.

“Finalmente- siamo soli.”

Finally- we’re alone.

JOSEPH HOESTAR

It was his party and he was out dancing in the living room, drunkly throwing his arms into the air as he moved carelessly. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight as you talked to your new friend Caesar, who apparently went way back with Joseph.

The two of you hit it off, especially when you found out that he was an ex of Joseph’s, which meant he had dirt on him that you could use against him later. You actually grew so lost in your conversation with the blond that you tuned out your boyfriend’s drunken dancing.

“So like I was saying- JoJo is a bit of a-“ Caesar began, leading you into the kitchen and away from the noisiness of the living room. You listened intently and contributed to his points, telling him about what your relationship with Joseph had been like so far until-

“Y/N!” The sound of Joseph’s voice rang throughout the kitchen, causing you to jump in surprise as he stormed over towards you. “I sidn’t know Caesarino was h-here!” He slurred his words and threw an arm around your shoulder, shooting a glare at the man before you.

Caesar took that as his sign to leave and did just that, leaving you and your drunk boyfriend alone in the kitchen.

“Y/nnn.” He whined, both of his arms now pulling you close to him as he struggled to stay upright. “Why were you talking to himmmm??”

“Well he and I had some interests, that’s all.” You chuckled slightly but let out a surprised yelp as he put all his weight against you. “Joseph! Get up!” You groaned and forced him to stand up, pouting as you led him back to his bedroom so he could rest.

“But you’re mineee.” He continued to whine as you dragged him, pouting childishly as you walked.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” You chuckled. Drunk Joseph was always… something else.

“Let me show you.” He whispered, pinning you against the wall of his hallway and trapping you there. He began to attack your neck, leaving sloppy love bites in his wake.

“Please.”

And you just couldn’t tell him no.

ROHAN KISHIBE

He wasn’t much of a ‘party person’, but he figured he’d humor you just this once. He had spent most of the night right by your side, making sure nothing bad happened to you as you drank.

Had you always been this social?

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he did rather like that side of you.

Eventually, you ran off to talk to one of your buddies, and he decided to leave you be. But the sight of you with this friend of yours lit a fire within him. They had a hand on your arm, and seemed a little too invested in what you had to say.

Perhaps you two were just close. He hoped so, even though he didn’t fully understand why.

Since the great Rohan Kishibe doesn’t get jealous of others.

Others get jealous of him.

With an annoyed sigh, he put on a stern expression and walked over to you two. You greeted him with a cheery smile that sent butterflies swirling in his stomach, and it made him feel slightly guilty for what he was about to do next.

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and forced your lips to collide with his, using your gasp of surprise as the perfect opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat and remind you that he was the one that continued to make you feel good.

“R-Roh-“

“We’re leaving.” He grumbled and grabbed your wrist, smirking at how your little friend was nowhere in sight. Your drunken protests fell on deaf ears as he pulled you out of the house and into his car, buckling you up safely and stomping over to his side.

“What was that for-“ He cut you off by smashing his lips onto yours once again, groaning at the taste of alcohol that came from you.

You were in for it now, and you didn’t even know why.

JOTARO KUJO

He couldn’t believe that you thought it would be a good idea to drag him out to a party. Honestly! What in the world was running through your mind?!

But when he saw how much fun you were having, he just couldn’t take it away from you.

So- he resorted to standing in the corner of the, rather large, living room, arms crossed as he watched you dance around aimlessly.

It was all fun and games, until he watched one of your close friends come up and begin to dance with you. They took your hand in theirs and began to jump and sing along with you, their smile just as bright as your own.

The sight sent Jotaro’s heart to his stomach.

What was this feeling bubbling up inside him? Was it jealousy?? Surely not. Jotaro Kujo was known to get jealous every now and then, but over one of your friends?

It made him feel more guilty than anything.

It should be him dancing with you, making you smile and giggle like that. He should be the one out there encouraging you to be yourself while you hop around and scream the lyrics of the song that just came on.

God why did he have to stand over in the corner?

Hesitantly, he walked over to the two of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to the side briefly. His heart swelled at the sight of your cheesy grin, which only made him feel worse.

“Y/n.” He started out with a heavy sigh. How was he supposed to tell you he was jealous of your friend? It would ruin your night and he knew it. So… he sucked it up and gave in to the crazy idea that had been bothering him since he saw you go out and dance.

“What’s wrong?” You seemed to sense his inner turmoil, your voice soft and understanding. “Do you need to leave? It’s alright with if you do, I get it.” You made a motion to grab your jacket, but he only pulled you back towards him.

“I want to dance with you.”

Oh wow. Did he really just say that? He had to be kidding… but based on the way he was looking at you, you knew he wasn’t.

You’d ask him about his change of heart later, but decided to give him a peck on the lips and drag him back to the center of the living room.

It was a sweet act on his part, but his eyes betrayed how he really felt.

He was going to take you, and not a single bit of your body would be safe from his wonder working lips.

DIO BRANDO

He’s a slut for a good party and you know it. Nothing can stop him from getting absolutely wasted and enjoying himself in the sea of people. He was practically born to live in the spotlight, so that he’ll do.

Until you drag him home.

Or until he sees you flaunting around with a good for nothing loser that he’s never met before.

Tonight- it was the latter, his eyes laying upon the sight of you talking to a supposed friend of yours that he’s never met.

There was always the possibility that you had met them tonight, but he wasn’t about to hear you out. He knew all of your friends. Every single one of them. And he didn’t care if they liked him or not, so long as he knew them.

He watched in disgust as you laughed at something the stranger said, cringing even further when you placed a hand on their shoulder to steady yourself.

The sight simply enraged him, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it made his heart throb in agony.

Was he really that bad for you? I mean sure, he was your boyfriend, but he’s never been jealous of someone before and it was really starting to bother him.

“Y/n!” He hissed and grabbed you by your wrist, not even giving you a chance to say goodbye to your friend. “Stop trying to date other people!” His face was close to yours, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

“I’m not?!” You argued, pulling your wrist away from his grasp, only to have him grab it again and lead you out of the house. “Hey! What are you doing?!” You shouted and glared at him as you stood. “Are you at least going to tell me what’s wrong?”

He stopped and looked back at you, his eyes shining with malice and nothing more. He was totally blinded by his rage.

“I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”

And by god he did.

JONATHAN JOESTAR

He’s a gentle giant. Parties aren’t really his thing, but if it makes you happy, then he doesn’t mind a whole lot.

For the most part, it was the two of you and some friends talking by the pool, your feet dangling in the water as you talked. It was relaxing, surprisingly, and Jonathan couldn’t help but rest his head on your shoulder as you talked.

Now, Jonathan isn’t really the jealous type. He never really has been and he doesn’t think he will be.

But there’s just something about Dio sitting beside you that sets him off.

“Hello Y/n darling.” His voice is like silk, smooth in his way to try and seduce you. “JoJo.” He nodded at Jonathan before taking your hand in his and kissing it softly.

“Dio.” You scoffed and pulled your hand away. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

“Of course I was.” He chuckled lowly and smirked. “I’m always invited to these things.”

Jonathan’s arms found their way to your waist, curling around you and holding you close. He lifted his head up and shot a glare at Dio, his gaze unwavering in his resolve. The blond scoffed and left, leaving you and Jonathan alone to enjoy one another’s company.

“You know… Dio is our neighbor…” He started, whispering softly into your ear. “It would be nice if we could ensure that he didn’t get sleep tonight, no?”

“Oh Jonathan.” You chuckled and leaned into him. “I don’t see why not.”

[avaf00rdxx]

Leah Williamson relationship HC

A better fic will be out soon hang tight.

This is a scrap I made.

I would barely classify these as head cannons as they are very long. They are just about your relationship in general☺️

————————————————————————-

-you and Leah were best friends and crazy close when you first joined Arsenal in 2017. When you left to go to Barcelona in 2019 you both felt like a huge part of your lives were missing. When you came back to Arsenal in 2021 you both realised you were in love and started dating

-you always praise Leah for being the most fashionable person you know. You weren’t terrible yourself but you were always getting her to help you with what to wear daily

-whenever you two go to events together Leah will always make sure you get to the after party. Your pretty good at calling it a night often, which means Leah is dragging you for more drinks more often that not

-you, Leah and Alex Scott were sort of a trio. Sure Leah and Alex were a tad closer. But you had all been on multiple trips together

-your the cook of the house. She can’t go much further than toast. She tried to make frozen chicken one time for you both, but it ended up breaking the oven due to a weird setting she turned the oven on to.

-when she did her ACL you were in tears for her. When she walked off, She told you to get a goal for her. You didn’t in the end which made you sick to your stomach. You felt terrible and was just as devastated as Leah.

-your Australian. So bringing Leah over to your home was your favourite thing.

-Christmas in your house was amazing. You both decked out the house completely and danced and sung to Christmas songs all December.

-when buying your first house together. You had the biggest say. You had great taste is properties to buy so you kind of found a flat online and showed Leah. She said yes so you immediately booked an inspection. You got that flat two days later.

-You also bought all the furniture one night when you were both on international break and got it delivered to where Leah was. She was a bit shocked when she FaceTimed you after coming home to 45 delivery boxes.

-your taste in movies was so divergent. She liked the more fantasy movies like lord of the rings and Harry Potter. She also loved horror. Which was terrible for you. You loved romance movies, you’re either making Leah watch that or some stupid documentary you heard of.

-you were a huge dog person. And Leah already owned a dog when you first moved in together, but you had 2. So now it’s a crazy house 24/7.

-you love being together in the kitchen, listening to music and goofing around with a good bottle of wine. You both turn on old love songs and slow dance around the kitchen.

-she made you late to most trainings. Due to her stuffing around in the mornings. It got even worse when she cut her bangs

-one afternoon you were both chatting on how she used to have a fringe as a child. You said she would suit one (but you think she suits anything). So of course 2 weeks later she texts you to let you know she’s going to the hairdresser…

-Leah can be kinky asf. Come on we all know this

-sometimes after dinner you will beg her to play on the piano for you. She’s actually outstanding at it and you’re so proud of her. You will take your wine glass over and sit on the seat next to her while she plays.

-you tried to convince her to get Santa photos with the dogs. Which she very quickly declined.

-you were very good at makeup. You became obsessed with it as a teenage girl. So you find yourself doing Leah’s a lot for nights out and events. Even just doing a big look for fun.

-the girl couldn’t ride a bike to save her life. So you always tried to help teach her . She would somehow always say yes, Even if it was just an excuse to get a good laugh out of you.

-you and your Matilda’s team played in the World Cup and came fourth after being knocked out by her country in the semis. Your heart ached that you couldn’t finish it for your country, but it ached just the same at the fact that your girlfriend couldn’t lead her country to the grand finals like she had always dreamt of.

-every night you slept with your head tucked into the crook of her neck, arms cuddling onto her torso. It was just the best way both of your bodies melted together.

-sometimes she tried to take you on golfing dates. The first time she did, she told you she was good. Like the powerful Leah Williamson would. You were humble and said you would need her help. But when you swung your shot you actually made a great one and it had Leah’s jaw on the floor.

-you both had your first photo shoot together in 2020 just before covid. And you lived very minute of it. Now you have done heaps for brands like Calvin Klein, bikini brands, and more together, you both now being known for your hot couple photo shoots.

-you were both completely clumsy. The worst thing was when Leah and you had to screw a window nail tighter. Don’t ask why. But you apparently weren’t holding it properly. Causing it to fall out the other side of the frame. Completely shattering into the pool.

-though you were always chasing after her for outfit inspiration. You both looked phenomenal wherever you went. You would both be shot on camera court-side of a basketball game, on vacation or at dinner in the best outfits and hair.

-you though she was the hottest girl you had ever seen in your life. You had only had boyfriends who play football in your life before Leah. So you always blamed Leah for being gay.

-her love for country music was one of the things that made you fall in love with her. Along with her charming personality

-you were a striker for arsenal. When you scored in a game, you would do your celebration jump with your fists in the air and always try to look for Leah, to see if it was her arms you could jump into first. And she was always there, screaming at you for your goal with her arms wide open.

-your a bottom most of the time. But sometimes you switch it up and she lives for your dominant side.

-you suffered a severe back injury in 2022 while in Australia. You were scared you would never play again. Leah was on the next plane out to Australia, even though she was told not to. Just so she could sit next to your bed and hold your hand for hours.

-seeing Leah back in training after doing her ACL. With the brightest smile on her face, made your heart melt every time.

[likedovesinthewindd]

enemies to lovers with farleigh!!! he claims to dislike you but whenever he sees you with other guys at parties or wherever else he comes around and says something to scare them off :p <3

i love your writing sm btw!!!!!!! 💋

thank you sooo much, lovie!!! I changed this up just a little bit. I hope you don't mind. (fem!reader) | wc: ±1450

a/n: he's so fine omg...

You felt like you were at your wits' end when it came to dating. Things would always start out nicely; you and the potential suitor would click, and then somewhere along the line, they'd just ghost you, stop all communication and pretend that they didn't know you at all.

It started to feel like the universe's way of punishing you. For what, you wouldn't know.

You looked over to where Anabel's eyes had been. He had been eyeing you, and he wasn't bad-looking at all. You spared him a shy smile, downing the last of your drink and gaining an extra bit of liquid courage before making your way over to the stranger.

"He hasn't called me back," you frowned, the clicking of your phone's buttons heard faintly over the music playing. You snapped it closed, shoving it back into your purse as you sank a little further into the couch.

"Screw him, honestly," your friend Anabel said, bringing her cup to her lips as her eyes scanned over the crowd. Her eyes lit up before she spared you a look. "Guy in the ugly sweater over there's been eyeing you," she said with a smirk. You shook your head, taking a sip of your own drink. "C'mon, forget about whatshisname. This one's cuter, anyway."

The conversation went well. It didn't feel too awkward and forced, and the guy, James, you learned, was quite funny and interesting. You excused yourself briefly to use the bathroom, urging him to wait for you, which he agreed to, but when you came back, he was nowhere to be found. You searched around the crowded house, just to find James with another girl, obviously very interested in her judging by the way he was currently eating at her face.

You had no reason to really feel angry. The two of you were not even really friends, but you'd be lying if you said you haven't been interested in seeing him again. You made your way to the kitchen to try your luck at finding another beer when you saw Felix at the punch bowl you had been avoiding all night, helping himself to a serving full to the brim. His eyes lit up when he saw you, a smile stretching across his face so wide that it made his eyes almost close completely.

Your smile mimicked his, extending your arms to give him a quick hug. Despite how badly things between you and Farleigh turned out, you were happy to still have Felix as a friend. "How've you been, mate? God, I haven't seen you in how long," he guffawed, eyes peering over his cup as he took a sip of his drink.

"I've been good, just...y'know," you shrugged, resting your back against the fridge. "What?" he asked, silently inquiring you to continue. A part of you was reluctant to tell Felix of all people about your failing love life, a fear in the back of your mind that he might tell Farleigh about it and the two of them will have a laugh at your misery. But you knew you could trust Felix, so you decided to come clean.

"Every guy I'm interested in ghosts me," you said with a small laugh, your shoulders slumping. "I'm beginning to think I'm just an unbearable person to be around."

"Nonsense," Felix deadpanned. "I think it has more to do with more to do with the fact that you've been branded," he said with a laugh, taking another gulp of his drink. "What do you mean?" you asked, watching his smile falter at your question. "You don't..?" he watched the confusion form on your face before clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Farleigh, he," he started, "he was this habit of 'warning' people about you." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "He scares people off when he sees them with you. It's his way of keeping you available, I guess."

Your blood was boiling. Breath coming in at short intervals as you tried to calm yourself down, but to no avail. "I kinda thought you knew he did that," Felix said softly. You only nodded, leaving him in the kitchen as you made your way outside to get some fresh air. Once the cold air bit at your skin, you calmed down substantially. You reached in your jacket's pocket for your cigarette, taking one out and searching through your clothes' pockets for your lighter, frustration deepening the harder you searched.

A hand appears in your peripheral, and you gratefully took the offered lighter with a grunted thanks before lighting your cigarette. When you go to give it back, you feel like rather throwing the lighter at Farleigh's stupidly smug face.

"Long timenosee, hm?" he smiled. "You really have a fucking nerve," you stated, pulling the burning cigarette from between your lips. "What gives you the right?" you continued, not giving him a chance to respond, "telling people to stay away from me?"

He huffed out a small, humorless laugh before rubbing the back of his thumb across his bottom lip. "Who told you that?" he tried, and now it was your turn to laugh. "It doesn't matter. Please leave me alone," you said, making your way back inside only to be stopped by Farleigh's grip on your upper arm. "Farleigh," you warned. "C'mon, don't be like that," he tried, and you scoffed. "Like what? Why do you even care who I talk to?"

"I want you back," he said, looking down at you. You allowed yourself your first good look at him, and that's when you noticed his droopy, slightly glassy eyes and blown out pupils. "You're drunk," you said softly, to which he shook his head vehemently. "So what? I'm not saying this because I'm drunk, I'm saying it because it's true," he reassoned. The cigarette hung loosely from your finger, dead by now in your grasp.

"Why do I think I'd care?" he quipped, and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his tone. "I don't know. It wasn't like you were the one who ended things in the first place," you quipped back. "And what of I told you I regret that?" he asked softly.

"I'd tell you I don't care," you said, loosening his grip on you, only for him to grap your hand. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"I wanna make it up to you," he whispered, "wanna treat you right this time," his thumb rubbing across the top of your hand that was still in his grasp.

"Why couldn't you do it right the last time?" you whispered, peering at him. "I was a dick. I dunno—" he slightly slurred. "Farleigh..."

"No, I really wanna make it work this time, please. I miss you." The slight whine in his voice made your heart ache with longing, remembering all the good times the two of you used to have. You missed Farleigh, that much was hard to admit to yourself in the first place. But you didn't know if you were willing to take that risk again, if Farleigh was really truthful about what he was saying.

"I'm serious," he half-slurred, trying his very best to act sober. "Please, I've been miserable without you." You chewed at the inside of your mouth, the alcohol leaving a funny frank taste in your mouth. You'd be lying if you said you weren't also miserable without him, but a part of you was still hurting and a bit petty. He looked like a kicked dog, crawling back to you after biting you, waiting and begging for forgiveness. His once sharp and expressive brown eyes now darkened with sorrow and his head hanging low, tail between his legs. The facade he had been putting up these few months had finally fallen, and you got to see how much the split truly affected him.

"You said you weren't ready to commit," you said. "I lied. I was scared to commit. It was getting too real, and I didn't know how to handle it." You looked down at your shoes, the chrome tips of your heels shining in the yellow porch light. You looked up at Farleigh, the same sorrow look on his face that still made your heart clench.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?" you asked, his confession a little too much for your tipsy brain to handle right now. He looked as though he wanted to argue no, but he shook his head in agreement, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, before lighting one. "We'll talk about it tomorrow then," he said as a cloud of smoke left his mouth simultaneously.

You gave him a small smile, the warmth in your cheeks spreading across your face when you saw him mirror your smile. You took his face in hand, lanky body still slightly hunched over, and placed a kiss on his cheek, the drugstore lipstick leaving its dark maroon mark behind. You stroked your thumb across it gently, careful not to smush the shape before letting go of his face. "Now I've branded you," you added with a smile before making your way back inside.

[thetriumphantpanda]

one kiss is all it takes | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Four

Chapter Summary | All of the tension between you & Javi comes to a head when you're gathered at the Peña ranch to celebrate Chucho's birthday.

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food & alcohol, some angst, heavy on the flirting, discussion of drugs & the drug trade but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note |  Well. I am having far too much fun with these guys. I hope you guys are still enjoying this. Just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @undercoverpena for helping me brainstorm this chapter and figure it out when I was struggling and for just being my biggest hype woman. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

It’s Chucho’s birthday and it feels like the entirety of Laredo has descended on the Peña ranch. He’s currently sitting on one of the chairs that’s been set out on the back porch, beer in hand, talking to some of his friends from the ranch association. You’ve already been over, wished him a happy birthday with a kiss on the cheek, and pressed a small gift bag into his hand from the rest of the family. The bag is sitting between his feet, and you know he’ll take it in with him later to open on his own. Never one for a fuss, was Chucho. 

Other townsfolk are walking around, or standing in smaller groups, drinking or eating from the spread of food everyone had contributed to. You’re currently sat with your mom, who is talking to some of the women she works with. It’s dull conversation, but you try your best to look at least semi-interested when a question is thrown your way. You’re focused on something else though. Your eyes have been searching through the sea of people for one person, and one person only. Javi. And he’s nowhere to be seen. You bring the bottle of beer you’ve been drinking to your lips, tip it up, but find it empty. 

“I’m just going to get another drink.” You mumble to excuse yourself from the group around you. 

They all smile at you but quickly return to their conversations once you start stepping away. The relief from the cool interior of the house is welcome, as you open the fridge and root through it for another drink. You close the fridge door gently, plucking the magnetic bottle opener off the front when you hear muffled voices coming from down the hall. 

“You know,” You can just make out, so you take gentle steps to the edge of the kitchen to hear better, “If you were looking for something else, we could always use you back on the force.” It’s your dad, and you bet you know exactly who he’s talking to. 

“Go back to shining lights into teenagers’ cars whilst they’re making out and busting petty criminals?” That’s definitely Javi, “That’s not really my scene anymore.” 

You can hear your dad sigh a little, “It’s not really like that anymore,” He offers, “You must know by now we’ve got some kind of drug epidemic here, we can’t seem to crack it, I bet you could blow this whole thing wide open for us.” 

Javi scoffs, you press yourself further into the wall, knowing you should walk away, this isn’t your conversation to hear, “Even more reason for me to stay away,” He answers, “I couldn’t crack it down there, and if it’s anything like that here, it’s going to go far deeper than you could ever imagine.” 

Your dad sighs again, louder this time, because he’s clearly fighting a losing battle, “Well, the offer is there, think about, huh?” 

All Javi does is grunt in response, which you think is akin to something like ‘thanks, but no thanks’, then you hear footsteps coming down the hallway. You don’t move quickly enough to dart back through the doors but do manage to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible at the kitchen island as your dad rounds the corner. 

“I didn’t know you were in here.” He speaks, fishing his own new drink out of the fridge.

“Just came to get another drink,” You smile, trying to make your voice loud enough that Javi can hear that you’re inside too, “It’s pretty hot out there.” 

Your dad clinks his bottle with yours as he moves to head back outside, “Cool off, but don’t hide away in here, okay?” 

You nod and smile as he heads back outside, but you don’t make a move to follow him. After last week, when Javi pressed his lips to your cheek, you haven’t been able to think of much else. Surely, if he’d come all the way to fetch you, brought you food and kissed your cheek, that must mean something? You’d felt absolutely crazy trying to explain it to Liv, recounting your conversation, trying to get her advice on what it meant. She’d been entirely unhelpful, telling you that you were reading too much into it, but she had told you Victor was nice, so you weren’t in the habit of trusting her at the moment. 

You stand at the kitchen island for a while, praying that he would come to you, talk to you, even just say hello, anything would do, but he doesn’t. He stays wherever he is, doing whatever he’s doing, leaving you standing there like someone had stood you up. You sigh, pick up your beer and head back outside. 

It’s probably an hour later, you’re back sitting with your mom and her friends, when he emerges from the house, his own drink in hand. He makes eye contact with you, but when you smile at him, he doesn’t return it, just turns and walks over to the first group of people he can find, almost completely ignoring your presence. It hurts, is what you think, makes your heart sink a little. 

You see him a few times over the next couple of hours as people start slowly heading off. It’s still warm outside, but the sun is starting to set, painting the ranch in a soft orange glow. Your mom and dad left about an hour ago, leaving you where you there to help tidy up. The plan had been for all of you to stay, but your mom had indulged in one too many glasses of wine and needed to nap. 

The crowd had thinned out significantly now, so you think it’s a good a time as any to try and tidy up the porch a bit. There’s a rubbish bag hanging from the railing, there’s a few actually, that you think Javi must have set out in order to keep mess to a minimum, so you start picking up the empty bottles and used paper plates, stuffing them in until it’s full. You move some of the furniture around, back to how you know Chucho likes it. 

“You don’t have to help with this.” 

You turn around, and for the first time Javi is looking at you, talking to you, but still won’t quite meet your eyes, choosing to busy himself with gathering the trash from the other side of the porch. 

“I don’t mind,” You shrug, walking over to help him out a little, picking up some more paper plates to shove into the bag, “Doesn’t seem right to leave you to tidy the place on your own after allowing half the town to come over.” 

He doesn’t really respond after that, silently shuffles around, refusing to meet your eyes. It drives you wild, because there’s no way you’d made up the signals he’d been giving in the car. No-one kisses your cheek if they don’t want you. 

Once the porch is clear of clutter, Javi makes a beeline for the trash bag that’s full, leaning down to pick it up. You follow his movements, reaching down to circle his wrist with your hand, trying to be gentle with him. You’re not expecting him to snatch his arm away from you like you’d just branded him with a hot poker. He even steps back away from you, turning his back slightly, although you can see one of his hands come to his mouth, fingers running over his facial hair and down his chin, other hand on his hip. You think you hear him mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘don’t’. 

You stand there, dumbfounded if anything. Why is he being so different with you? Hot, angry tears are forming across your waterline, because you’re embarrassed, embarrassed that you’d played into him leading you on. To try and hide the fact you’re about to cry, you turn on your heel, stomping, albeit quite dramatically, around the side of the porch when you feel him grab your wrist, pulling you around so you’re facing him. Nowhere to hide now, you think, giving him your face, letting him see the tears he’s caused. 

“What?” You spit, tearing your hand out of his grip, much like he’d done to you just moments before. 

“Just… wait.” He says hands up in defense. 

So you do, you stand there and wait, shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching as he leans back more of his weight on his back leg, hand rest on the top of his jeans, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say. 

“You know what?” You scoff, “I’m so fucking embarrassed, Javi,” You can feel your bottom lip start to wobble, more frustrated tears threatening to fall, “I thought-” You start, running a hand over your cheek to wipe away the tears that are forming, “I thought I was picking up on these signals between us,” You motion your hand between the two of you, “Thought maybe you felt the same way about me, I mean, who kisses someone’s cheek and tells them there’s nothing wrong with them if they don’t mean it, right?” You can hear yourself, sniffling through the tears, voice getting quicker and higher in pitch as he just… stands there, “God,” You chuckle, “I really thought I’d stop embarrassing myself at some point, but clearly fucking not.” 

He's still not saying anything, and you’re sick to death of making yourself feel and look like a fool in front of him, so you turn on your heel again, walking away, when yet again his hand circles your wrist and pulls you back to him, but this time, you don’t stop by just turning around to him, he’s tugging at you, pulling you closer, and then all of a sudden his lips are on yours. It’s quick, almost over before you can even register what’s happened, but there was no mistaking the feel of his lips pressed to yours. The tickle of the hair on his upper lip against the skin under your nose. 

When he pulls away, you’re dumbfounded, mouth open in shock, “You kissed me.” Is all you can say, voice high with shock. 

“I did.” 

“Then what the fuck was all that back there?” You ask, incredulous and confused, head spinning with what’s going on. 

All he does is shrug, seemingly unable to explain himself, which makes you more annoyed. Is he fucking with you? All you wish he would do is tell you what the fuck is going on in his brain, what he’s thinking, why he’s behaving in this way. 

“Tell me,” You demand, “Tell me, or I’m going to get in my car and leave.” 

And he’s standing there, and you think you can see the cogs working behind his eyes. His mouth is doing that thing again where it opens and closes without him saying anything. He brings a hand up to brush over his brow, but he still doesn’t say anything. You’d had enough. If he didn’t have the decency to be frank with you, like you’d been with him, then you guess you had your answer. 

For the third time that evening, you turn around and start walking, heading for the steps at the front of the house. He doesn’t try and grab your wrist this time, doesn’t try and touch you, but you can hear his footsteps behind you. You can see your car in front of you, you reach into the pocket of your shorts, fingers hitting the keys when you finally hear his voice. 

“I’m trying to be good, alright?” He calls out to you, “Better,” he offers then, “I’m trying to be better and I just…. Fuck, I hate this.” 

And really that’s all you needed. You needed him to try. To try and explain his behaviour, to tell you why he was giving you these mixed signals. So you turn, walk the few steps back towards him, take his face in your hands and plant a kiss right on his lips. 

It’s like it breaks the dam that the two of you had been trying to hold back, because his hands are on your back, one resting just above the waistband of your shorts, the other fisting at the material between your shoulder blades as he really kisses you this time. Your hands drop to the collar of his shirt, pulling him in closer as you open your mouth against his, let his tongue finally touch yours, pressing your body as close to his as you can possibly get it. You can feel the tension of your shirt being pulled from behind. It’s like he has to fist the material because he wants to touch you, wants to put his hands on your skin under the material, but knows he can’t. 

When you pull away, both breathless, he leans down, rests his forehead to yours, eyes closed. 

“I don’t want you to be good, Javi,” You whisper, “I want you to want me.” 

He opens his eyes then, big chocolate orbs that are pleading with you, “I do,” He answers honestly, “I want you so much, querida, and that’s the problem.” 

“I know.” You try and soothe, but really, it’s all lost now isn’t it, there’s no going back from here. 

Almost like you both finally realise you’re in the open air at the same time, you both step away from each other. Your hands coming to pull your shirt back into position, Javi doing the same with the collar of his shirt. You run your thumb over your bottom lip where you can feel the wetness from the kiss, wiping it away. 

“I should go,” You say softly, motioning your head to the car, and he doesn’t argue, because he knows you should too, because if you stay here there’s only one thing that can happen, “See you around.” 

Like it’s now his signature move, his hand circles your wrist, turning you back to him, “Call me?” He asks, “Call me tonight?” 

You smile, “Okay, I’ll speak to you later.” 

You weren’t really sure how long you were supposed to wait to call him. You got in and your mom was already in bed out for count, your dad sat in front of the TV, cold beer in hand, watching some kind of sports. 

“You help Javi clean up?” He asks as you throw your keys in the dish on the side table. 

You try not to bite at your lip, try not to focus on the heat rising across your cheek, “I did,” You confirm, walking over to the fridge to pick out your own drink, “Most people had already thrown their stuff away, so it didn’t take long.” 

You sit with him for a while, sipping slowly on the drink, trying to quell the memories of his lips on yours, the way he had tasted and the way his hand had fisted so tightly at the back of your shirt. It was everything you’d wanted it to be, all those years of wondering what it would be like, and now you knew, and all you wanted was to know what else he could do, how else he could make you feel. 

Once your drink is done, you give your dad a chaste kiss on the cheek, bid him goodnight, and spend the next hour pacing, trying to concentrate on reading, before you give up. You reach into your bag and pull out the card. Run your fingers over the name embossed there. You pick up the receiver on your nightstand, punch the number in and press call. 

This time, he answers on the first ring, like he’s been sitting around waiting for you to call, just as much as you have. 

“Hello.” You speak timidly, leaning back onto the pillows of your bed, switching the handset to the other ear so you’ll be able to hear anyone wandering around outside. 

“Evening, hermosa.” He croons back to you, but doesn’t offer anything else. 

You sit there for a moment, listening to him breath down the phone, reveling in the fact that he’s doing the same, until it gets to be a little awkward. You start speaking right at the same time as he does, which makes you both pause to let the other carry on, but it only works to make you both laugh. 

“You go first.” He prompts. 

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry,” You muse, “For how I was earlier.”

“You don’t need to say sorry,” He replies softly, “I’m sorry for being shit at talking about things.” 

There’s another pause, but it’s more comfortable this time, “So…” You trail off, “You kissed me.” It’s whispered, almost like it’s some terribly sordid secret, which you suppose it is really. 

“I did,” He confirms, and you’d like to think he’s smiling on the other end of the phone, “Wanted to do more than just kiss you.” He admits at the end. 

“Oh,” It comes out a little like a gasp, “Why didn’t you?” 

“I told you,” Javi replies with a little sigh, “I’m trying to be good, trying to be a gentleman.” 

“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” You offer. 

“What do you want me to be?” 

You giggle a little, “You sound like I’m paying you to say these things to me,” You hear him scoff at the other end, “I just want to know what you wanted to do to me that didn’t involve kissing me.” 

“Oh, hermosa,” You hear him make a ‘tsk’ sound through the receiver, “I would have kissed you, and then some,” You can hear him shifting around on the other end, “Wanted to put my hands all over you, make you feel good.” 

You bite your bottom lip a little, wanting nothing more than to let your hand wander below the waistband of your shorts, but there’s that little bubble of anxiety that always seems to make itself known to you when you get yourself into conversations like this, your lack of experience, lack of knowledge really, in how any of this is meant to work. 

“I wanted you to do that too,” You admit, “But…” You trail off, not really wanting to admit this to him right now. 

“But what, hermosa?” He coaxes. 

“I’m just-” You sigh, “I don’t have a lot of experience in this stuff, you’ll have to be patient with me.” 

You don’t know what you expect him to say, but it certainly isn’t what he says, “You want me to teach you, huh?” He asks, “Show you what you’ve been missing with those college boys?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, because he’s so right. You want to know what it’s like for someone else to take you apart. You want to know what it’s like when someone sinks into you and really cares about how you feel. You want to know what it’s like to feel someone else’s mouth on you. You want to know what it’s like to curl into someone’s side once all is said and done and fall asleep with someone’s arm wrapped around you, and you want all that with him. 

“I do.” You reply simply. 

“Then say no more,” There’s another silence, “I should let you go,” He says, “But I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hum in response, “And, um, don’t worry okay?” You’re about to ask about what, but you think you know what he’s getting at, “Just… probably best we don’t say anything to anyone, but don’t worry about it, alright?” 

“Okay,” Is your response, because what else is there to really say, “Goodnight Javi.” 

“Goodnight, querida,” He says back, “Sweet dreams.” 

[heavysoldat]

unattainable

dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

the reader and the terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

warnings: SMUT (unprotected vaginal sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation & praise kink), age gap (19-early 20s x late 30s early 40s), inappropriate relationships, cheating, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, gratuitous smut

this came out a lot softer than intended, whoops

You’ve had a rough fucking day. And that’s to put it lightly.

You woke up after sleeping through your alarm, twice, making you miss an online morning class and wildly late for another. The local brewery was all out of your usual order- which was the only thing that would’ve brought you peace. To make matters even worse, your phone died when you needed it most, and when your boyfriend; who you’ve been dating for over a year- handed you his cellphone to use instead, you were slapped in the face by sexually charged text messages between him and one of your closest friends. And all of that is just a brief summary.

Really, the last thing you needed was a stack of work given to you by your employer to do on your time off, but of course, that’s what you were given.

You’re sat at your kitchen island, home alone; your parents excusing themselves for a much needed date night, clad in nothing but panties and a shirt you had gotten at a concert years before, which was the only size they had left— a size too large for your frame.

The sound of the front door opening collides with your incessant tapping of keys, making you almost jump out of your skin. A relief washes over you when you see a familiar face, dressed for the fall weather and dropping a plastic bag by your side.

“Your dad home?” Bucky asks, almost grunting.

“No,” You say, turning to face him, “What’s in the bag?”

“Bread.” He says, opening it and showing you the round object wrapped in tinfoil. Bucky’s always been a good cook; at least when it comes to dough and grain. Your mother always insists he brings over extras when he bakes, and he always obliges, basking in her admiration for his skills.

When you reach to unwrap it, he slaps your hand away, making you yelp. “Hands off. This is for dinner.”

“Asshole,” You mumble, rubbing your now slightly irritated hand. You’re not usually like this— usually happy to see him, happy to see a warm, non familial face around the house to bring you conversation. But with a day like today, all chivalry is out the window.

“Hey,” He says, eyebrows raised. Despite his surprise, his voice remains calm. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I just don’t like getting slapped, surprisingly.”

“Don’t be a brat.” He says, voice stern and stabbing. He’s got his glare set on you, towering; it almost scares you, almost makes your heart drop to your stomach.

You don’t respond, instead opting to avert your gaze, placing your attention to the work on your computer and the splitting ache in your head and heart.

“Hey,” Bucky says, voice calmer, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” You breathe, barely audible.

Your reply makes Bucky tsk, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. “You’re lying. Talk to me.”

You swallow, harsh and rough in your throat. You can barely help the way your lip quivers. Every piece of text on your computer is nothing but a blur, a mindless space of pixels that’s clouding your head. You’re almost staring past it, but desperate for a way to not look at him— because you know if you do, it will just make everything worse.

“I’m just having a bad day.” Your voice is soft. Fragile. Barely there.

You feel his hand rubbing your arm, trying to bring you as much comfort as he can. He can’t take your stress away, he knows that, but he just wants to put it to rest for now.

“What happened, hun?”

The nickname strikes through your chest, but simultaneously covering you in warmth. “I just…” You can barely speak without choking, “It’s just one of those days where everything goes fucking wrong. I wake up too late, I miss my classes, get berated by teachers who don’t understand that I can’t control how my body works— and then I can’t even get food in my stomach, let alone a fucking coffee. My parents wouldn’t call me back all day, wouldn’t even lend me a text, and Chase can’t be there for me because he’s too busy sending photos of his dick to other girls!”

“Hold on,” Bucky jets, tightening his grip on your arm, “What was that last part?”

“Chase?” You ask, eyes watery. Bucky nods. “I- He’s- He was texting- sexting my friend, Chloe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows tighten in a furrow, thumb stroking your bare skin. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

“No, I just…” You breathe in, trying to catch your breath from the four mile sprint of a monologue you just did, “I haven’t had time for him lately, y’know? I’ve been busy with my job, and-and school, we haven’t done anything in weeks, and y’know- he has needs. I don’t- blame him, I wasn’t- I wasn’t there.”

“What?” Bucky bellows, voice rising. You jump at the loudness, before he brings you back down with his grip. “Is that what he told you?”

You nod. Bucky sighs.

“Listen, I’m… I’m gonna give you some advice.” He says. “Take it from me. I’m a lot older than you, and I’ve had a fair share of weak moments- but never, ever would I think it’s okay to go behind a woman’s back just because I’m not gettin’ any. That’s fucking cowardice. If a guy ever tells you it’s your fault he cheated on you, run in the other direction.”

“He didn’t cheat on me,” You hiccup, “They didn’t do anything, they-they were just texting.”

“Did he say that, too?”

You pause, staring at him- before nodding.

“That’s bullshit. He went behind your back with someone else. That’s cheatin’.”

You bite your lip, not hard enough to break skin, adverting your eyes from his gaze. You let the words sink in, let them fill you, let them sit in your body for now. He’s right, and you know he is, but it’s hard for you to admit to yourself. It’s how you’ve always been treated by men. It’s how you’ve always experienced love. It’s how everything has always been.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head, huh?”

You laugh, breathy and broken, “I’m just… I feel like a shitty girlfriend.”

“Don’t say that shit,” Bucky has your face in his hand, pulling your gaze back to his. He’s staring at you with those steel eyes, intense in gaze; like they’re reading your thoughts. “He has a right hand for a reason.”

That makes you laugh. The sound of your giggle makes him laugh, his dimpled smile covering his features.

“I’m serious, okay? Don’t do that for yourself. He’s the asshole.”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, “He is.”

Bucky’s eyes are still on you when you look away, taken over by a soft gleam he’s had for a while now.

“I shouldn’t be crying over a guy who thinks eating pussy is gross,” You laugh, wiping your slightly teared cheeks with your palms.

“What?” Bucky’s gawking, almost comedically, “Gross?”

“You don’t think it’s gross?”

“Far from it.”

You smile weakly, only one corner of your mouth turning upward. You attempt to move back to your work, before he grips your arm again, pulling your gaze back.

“You sounded surprised,” He notes, “Has every guy you’ve ever dated thought that?”

“Uh…” You chew on your bottom lip, staring down at your lap, “Yeah.”

The silence that follows is almost deafening. Bucky’s seen you with a couple guys- seen the boys you bring home to meet your folks, boys who pull up in your driveway and great you with a rough kiss. The thought alone that you’ve just been taken without getting is enough to tighten his shoulders— a pretty little thing like you, perfect ass in tight panties— it’s insane to him. Insane that no ones taken advantage in the right way.

“So,” He tuts, “You’ve never had anyone eat you out before?”

The question surprises the shit out of you. Sure, you’ve had raunchy conversations with him— but they’ve all been shitty jokes followed by “if you tell your parents I joke with you like this, I’ll kill you”. He’s always been the soft, teddy bear next door with a potty mouth, careful to not overstep boundaries or get into you personally. He’s never even asked about the boys you’ve brought around, or pointed out the actors you ogle in movies. It’s always been behind a wall.

“No.”

He hums, deep in his throat, bringing one of his fingers to lift your chin. He’s got his gaze fixated on your mouth, nostrils flaring with his heavy breaths. “D’ya wanna know what it feels like?”

Your heart drops down into your stomach, falling into an ashy pit. Your breathing gets harder, thicker, your thighs clenching at the very suggestion— he’s always been the guy your friends have joked about being too hot for his own good, being a tease for remaining so forbidden. You’ve never said anything, never spoke a peep, knowing that if you admitted anything to yourself it would become real. He would become real. Instead of your dads friend who comes by with pastries, he’d turn into the man you stare at by swimming pools, praying he’s catching glimpses of how your ass looks in your swimsuit. And you had never been ready for that immature, young schoolgirl crush.

“What’re you saying?” Your voice is breathy, whispering. His free hand lays wait on your waste, itching to move down, tangled with the fabric of your shirt.

“Gonna ask you somethin’, and you can always say no, get up ‘n leave. Tell me to fuck off.” He says, still staring at your mouth, still holding onto you, “Can you get up ‘n bend over for me?”

Oh fuck. Suddenly every wall, every rule you’ve made with yourself, every illusion of unattainability comes crashing down, falling apart like bricks. If you weren’t clenching your thighs tight before, you are now.

You don’t even respond. With a heavy breath, you stand up, and he follows behind, moving back to give you room. You pause, letting yourself breathe— before placing your hands on the cold marble of the countertop, letting yourself bend down.

You can hear the shaky breath Bucky lets out, hear him fumbling to move behind you. The feeling of his hands on your hips almost makes you jolt. He moves you to where he wants you, before pulling you up, bracing your back flat against his chest.

“Listen to me,” He says, speaking into your ear, voice soft. “If you don’t want me to do this, just tell me, okay? Not doin’ anything you don’t want me to.”

You nod, but don’t move. With your silent consent, he pushes you back down, laying you flat against the island. He hooks a prosthetic finger into your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs, letting you step out of them.

“Mmm,” He hums, letting himself fall down to his knees. He’s staring up at your pussy, glistening with your arousal, profited by his very presence. He slides a finger through your drenched folds, making you twitch, rubbing your slit from top to bottom in an experimental test.

The first slide of his tongue in your folds is heavenly. It has you keening, legs trying to move away, but he keeps you there with a tight grip of his hands. He’s wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking lightly, finger teasing your hole with wide circles.

“Oh fuck,” You’re moaning, head falling forward and eyes rolling back. It’s different from anything else, better than anything else— and he’s got you stuck, manhandling you the way he wants you. The way he knows is best for you.

When he slides his fingers in, you clench hard, making him moan around your cunt. The vibrations send a jolt of pleasure up your spine, leaving you whining- whimpering against the granite.

With him switching from sucking your clit, to fucking your hole with his tongue— it’s not long before you feel the build up deep in your core, spinning wildly towards your finish. You’re grinding against his face, practically smothering him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, with the way he’s moaning, whining against your soaked pussy, you’d say he fucking loves it.

Then, you’re cumming, drenching his face with your wetness, his face buried deeper than you thought possible. It leaves your legs twitching.

As you come down, he goes up, fingers still sliding inside of your cunt as he pulls you back up towards him. With you leaning back against his chest, he leans down to your ear:

“You know why I’m doin’ this?” He asks, fingers still gliding inside of you, overstimulating you in the best way, “Cause you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

You’re gasping, gripping his arms tight, his thumb flicking and rubbing your sensitive nub, fingers pounding away at that spongey spot deep inside your core.

“Every time I come in here,” He grunts, “You’re dressed like this. Tight ass in those fuckin’ panties, beautiful legs— you have no idea what you do to me. Your dad would kill me, if he knew what I was thinkin’, if he knew how I hard I fucked my fist thinkin’ about his sweet little girl. How bad I wanna stuff her cunt full, watch the way she cums— just wanna treat her right. Cause you deserve it, honey, you fuckin’ do. Tired of watching you get pushed around by little boys who don’t know nothin’ about making you happy. Just wanna see you happy, wanna see you satisfied. Wanna see you get what you need. What you deserve.”

“Please,” You beg, eye’s shut tight, “Buck, please fuck me, please.”

It has him gasping, breath fluttering. “I can’t, honey, this is about you.”

“Please.” You’re practically crying. “Please, I need your cock so fucking bad, please— I need you to fill me up, want you to fuck me so good, Bucky, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky curses, grinding his already throbbing cock against your bare ass, “Fuck!”

You hear him fumbling with his belt, the clinking of metal filling up the murderous silence. He pulls up behind you, gripping your hips, before stopping—

“Fuck,” He stops, “Don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” You don’t have time for this. You’re practically dripping arousal onto the floor, clenching around nothing, cunt desperate for his cock. “You can cum inside me, you can do whatever you want, please just fuck me.”

You’re going to be the fucking death of him, he swears.

The first slide of his cock makes your body twitch. His cock stretches you almost to the point of pain, burying inside you to the hilt with a heavy moan. His balls are heavy against your ass, ready to burst, thrusting shallowly into your cunt out of desperation.

“Fuck,” He moans, “God, your pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”

“Please, move,” You whine, “Just fuck me.”

Bucky places his hand on the small of your back, softly pushing you down against the countertop. After he places himself just right, he starts snapping into you, deep and hard.

You’re reeling, moaning against the marble, the slapping of skin on skin filling up your ears. You can hear him moaning, grunting about how good you feel, precum dripping down in your inner walls.

“Oh god,” Bucky’s grunting, thrusts getting faster. “God, yeah, stay just like that for me. Let me fuck that pretty cunt, fuck, lemme fill you.”

“Yes, yes,” You’re moaning like you’re being paid, gripping the counter so hard your nails change color, “Please, please fuck me— fuck, harder, please, Bucky.”

The sound of your moans have him desperate. He feels feral, uncontrollable, unable to stop how recklessly he fucks you. He lifts your leg up, pulling his arm underneath it as leverage to fuck you deeper. You’re both colliding in a symphony of moans, the sounds of your pleasure so loud you know the neighbors can hear.

“This what you wanted?” Bucky slaps your ass, watching as the flesh jiggles underneath his thrusts, “This what you were begging for? A thick cock in your tight little pussy? Fuck, how shitty those boys fuckin’ treated you, leavin’ you this desperate for cock, practically fuckin’ drooling against the counter. Fuck, take it like that, honey, you’re takin’ it so fucking good for me.”

Your moans are practically incoherent at this point. You’re blabbering, unable to keep your mouth shut, desperately humping yourself back against him when he moves to rub at your clit.

“So fuckin’ cock hungry,” Bucky laughs, “What would daddy think of you?”

When you clench around him, he knows he’s got you with his words. “Yeah? What would daddy think about his sweet girl getting pounded in his own kitchen? Begging to be fucked by the only man who’s ever gonna fuckin’ treat her right?”

“I’m a- I’m a slut,” You moan, broken.

“Oh god, yeah you are.” Bucky pulls you up, putting your leg down and pressing you against him by your throat. “But you’re my fuckin’ slut. Don’t wanna see anymore boys around here— the only cock you’re gettin’ is mine, okay? Only cock that can make you feel this good.”

“I’m gonna cum again,” You whine, grabbing onto the hand thats wrapped around your throat. “I’m gonna cum, please.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” He moans, fucking you harder, faster, “Cum around this cock, baby, fuckin’ claim it. C’mon, be a good girl and cum.”

The orgasm rips through you hard, your moans turning into screams as he fucks you through it. You can barely make out his praise, the way he’s commending you for coming around him. The chord snap is almost painful, almost has you trying to run away from it, but the feeling of your orgasm running through your core is enough to have you crying.

“Oh god, here it fuckin’ comes, baby,” Bucky moans, eyes shut tight, panting breaths against your skin, “Gonna cum so fucking hard, I’m fuckin’ shaking,”

You’re begging him for it, pleading for him to cum inside you, fill you up—

With one hard thrust deep inside you, he lets out a loud yell, cum filling you up deep inside your body. He’s shivering, humping desperately against your ass as he rides it out, light moans escaping his lips.

The aftermath of it scares you. You can feel reality set in as he slides his cock out, cum dripping down your leg and onto the tiled floor.

Before you can let your thoughts sink in, he’s grabbing you by the chin, pulling you to face him. He captures your mouth in a kiss, tongue finding its way in your mouth, passion setting in heavier than anything else. You moan against his mouth, letting him groan, pulling you against him by your waist.

When he pulls away, he’s followed by a string of saliva— one of the many things connecting the both of you.

“If you ever need anythin’,” Bucky says, using his thumb to wipe up the spit on your chin, “Just ask me. I’ll give you everything.”

“Can you-“ You stutter, embarrassment flooding you at how exposed you are, “Can you help me clean up, please?”

He smiles at the politeness you still give him even after all of that. Bucky turns you around to face him, before sliding down to his knees on the floor.

“I didn’t mean like that!”

“Mmm,” He hums, grin plastered on his face, “But I prefer to do it this way.”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

black friday - m. murdock

a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"

For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.

For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.

And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?

You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.

Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.

So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.

You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.

Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.

So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…

Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.

Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.

“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”

What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’

Please.

“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”

“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.

“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.

“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh! And Matt is going!”

Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?

“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.

• • •

At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.

Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.

Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.

“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.

“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.

“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”

“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”

Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?

“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.

Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?

“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”

“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.

So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.

Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.

“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”

“I’m good, Karen.”

“No, thank you.”

Silence. Sickening silence.

Then, he spoke.

“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”

What?

You furrowed your brows, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.

“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”

That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.

“You say that a lot.”

“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”

Your face was beet red.

“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”

That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.

“A list?”

“A list.”

“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.

“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”

He tilts his head.

“Your ex?”

“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”

Matt knows the feeling.

“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”

“May 1st.”

“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”

“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“You’re rather talkative now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

• • •

Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.

It’s the apologizing that gets you.

You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.

You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.

“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.

“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.

“Well, remember that list we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”

That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.

He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.

You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.

Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.

So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.

“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

Huh.

Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.

Wait, what?

You brush it off, before asking,

“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”

“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”

“Always.”

“Then yes.”

Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.

• • •

October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.

Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.

So, you try a lot of things.

You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.

You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.

You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.

But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  

For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.

And the second thing is..

You don’t want to leave your coworkers.

You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.

Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.

Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.

And then, there’s Matt.

He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.

He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.

“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”

He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.

But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.

So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.

Until this one day.

It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.

Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.

“You need to move to a better apartment.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.

“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.

“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”

“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.

And you need to take a second.

He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.

This thought strikes you.

This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.

Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.

This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.

“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.

He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.

“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.

So this is it.

You just can’t deny it.

You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.

You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.

• • •

Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.

You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.

You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.

You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.

You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.

It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.

So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”

He grins.

“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.

“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.

“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.

And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”

He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.

“What?”

He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.

People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.

“Matt, what are you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.

When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”

“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.

“That’s my girl.”

• • •

The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.

By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.

“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.

“Watch it.”

“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”

“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.

“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.

“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”

“…Who?”

“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”

You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.

“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”

What a lovely lovely man.

“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.

Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.

It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”

“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”

He gasps happily.

“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”

“Your list, not ours.”

“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”

“You’re easy to help.”

“You’re easy to love.”

He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.

• • •

 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.

Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.

“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Really?”

He grins.

“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.

So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.

Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.

Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.

You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.

• • •

So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…

But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.

You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.

Now, Matt is all you see.

At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.

“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.

“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.

Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.

Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.

“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.

“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?

Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.

“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.

“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”

“Fiancé.” Matt ends.

Fiancé?

“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.

“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.

“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.

Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.

Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.

“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.

“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.

“When you know you know.” He hums.

“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”

“Yup. My list is all done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”

Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and conrad had established no strings attached, that is until valentines fold up and conrad suddenly seeks more out of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 implications of sex, fwb, lots of fluff towards the end

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.1k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 back at it lol. i’m taking request!! feel free to send in any requests for any of the characters on my masterlist

Valentines day. 

Some people are apprehensive when it comes to deciding what to spend the day doing on this particular holiday. For the lucky, it might be spending the day with their significant other or sitting around, basking in the simplicity of spending time with the person you love. For others, it was spending the day watching sappy rom-cons or moping around about the very fact of being single.

For you, Valentine's Day was the perfect excuse to show everyone how much you loved and cared for them. You were an overall extremely affectionate person, giving intricate gifts was a part of who you were. It was an extreme love language of yours— the feeling of running around, planning and buying different parts and pieces for each gift was something you found loads of fun in doing. 

For example, you had just finished baking and packing up your usual valentine themed cookie boxes to send out to all of your coworkers who worked with you at the local dog shelter. You had also sent out all of the small valentine themed envelopes to your family, who lived down the street from Susannah’s house here in Cousins, which reminded you not to forget her and Laurel's bouquets. You also put together the little treat bags with the group's favorite candy and other small things; one for Jeremiah, one for Steven, one for Belly, and one for Conrad.

It maybe was a lot, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved Valentine's Day. 

It was currently around four in the afternoon, and you were rushing around the kitchen of the Fisher household, scrolling through your tablet, checking off a few of the things you had left to do. 

Jeremiah walked into the room along with Belly, Steven, and Conrad.

"Hello Jeremiah." You looked up from your tablet and caught Jeremiah reaching for a cookie from one of the batches you were going to give out to your neighbours later on. His face twisted, laughing in embarrassment. You shook your head, looking down at the screen with a smile. 

"I left a batch of red velvet cupcakes near the fridge," Jeremiah and Stevens faces lit up. 

"You are the best person to step foot on this planet," Steven praised as they rounded the corner in attempts to get their hands on one of the cupcakes. 

"Seem's like you've been busy," Belly said, scanning the room as you set the tablet down on the counter. "I'll never get how you do it."

You shrugged, pulling your hand back and letting down the messy bun you had whipped up a few hours ago. "What can I say? Its Valentine’s Day."

"Not a valid answer, you don't see me running around gifting people random lovey shit, huh?" Conrad butted in as he leaned against the wall. You shot a glare at him.

"Well, you don't do lovey shit anyways," You teased with a smile, looking at your feet. "I dont know, I like seeing people happy, thats really all there is to it."

Belly looked at you with a smile. "That and your mind works at like, a thousand miles per hour."

It was true, you had a tendency to always need to be moving around. You barely sat still, not being able to stand the feeling of not being productive. You were always doing something, or you always had something to do. It was the main reason why you always ended burnt out. You loved doing things constantly, but it came with the heavy price of not knowing when you should stop doing things and rest. 

"People only usually do this stuff when they have boyfriends and shit like that," Belly insinuated. 

"You trying to tell us something, Y/n?" She said, gesturing towards her and Conrad. 

You cleared your throat, feeling a heat wave spread itself against your cheeks. You looked down only momentarily before shooting the pair a smile. "I do this every year Belly, if I had a special someone, you'd be able to tell."

It had been half true, given how you and Conrad weren't necessarily dating. 

It was complicated, at least if you explained it to others. You and Conrad had been best friends since you started coming to Cousins, which was since you were a baby. You loved Belly and Steven, and you loved Jeremiah, but things always felt different with Conrad. 

People had told you that Conrad was never an open book, and it surprised you at first, because he had always been more than open with you. It took very little, if not nothing, to guess with just a glance at what was going on in his head.

Many of the words that people used to describe Conrad Fisher, were the complete opposite of what you knew him to be. Conrad had a side of him that was reserved for only you, and you eventually started noticing it throughout your friendship. 

The two of you had many things that you preferred to leave unspoken. It had always worked like that with the two of you. When it came to how you felt about him, you couldn't put much into words. Words didn't do it justice most of the time.

But you and Conrad had been involved in this, thing, for about a year now. It started last summer, the two of you having one too many drinks at a party and hooking up accidentally. Or so you'd like to say it like that, because no one hooks up with their best friend drunk and says it was an accident. The two of you, not being able to communicate properly, ignored what happened that night for weeks.

But then it happened again

and again, 

and then again.

And none of the following times included alcohol. But for some reason, each time you saw each other after any sexual rendezvous, things would go completely back to normal. You guessed that was just your relationship with Conrad, it never got awkward or weird. 

You did however end up talking about it with him. 

"Can we talk?" You said, knocking on Conrad's door softly. He was lying down in his bed, book in hand. He sat up, placing it on the nightstand beside his bed. You looked at each other before he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair

"Sure," You walked in, feeling the cool air of the air conditioning hit your legs. You closed the door behind you, swallowing thickly as you could sense this conversation was going somewhere. You couldn't decipher if it was for the better or for the worse. 

You sat on the edge of his bed and looked into his eyes in silence. His gaze was just as locked on you as you were on him. That was before smiles started to grow on each of your faces before you threw your head back, laughing at the ridicule the situation presented. 

"I really don't know why we should talk about this," You said, turning to the side. 

Conrad sighed. "No, we probably should."

You looked at Conrad and focused on the blue in his eyes. "I dont regret what happened."

"Neither do I."

 "Is there a particular reason as to why it happened again after the first time?" You shifted your body and fiddled with your fingers. "And the second and third..

Conrad sighed heavily through his nose. He didn't get what was happening to him at all. He knew he cared about you; he knew he loved being near you and spending time with you. And he enjoyed what had happened between you two, 

A lot. 

But he didn't feel the need to put a title on what the two of you were. At this point, he was definitely opposed to the idea of dating, but he wasn't opposed to the idea of you. Maybe in the future? He didnt know, he was truly lost. 

And so were you. Which you hated. You couldn't stand not knowing what you wanted or what you were feeling. You needed to put titles onto everything—every feeling, every emotion, every situation—thats how your mind worked. But you knew you didn't want a relationship at this point in your life, but you loved spending time with Conrad the way you have recently.

"I don't know," He settled. "I don't see myself in a relationship, but I do love doing all the things we've been doing. 

You look at him and see a glint of something flashes through his eyes. "A lot."

You felt a rush of adrenaline pump through your veins as your cheeks went hot. You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I do too."

"I say," He pushed his body closer to yours, his knees lightly grazing against yours. You watched his movements with a sharp intensity. "Let's just be the friends we’ve been since we could talk, and ocacionally thing."

He placed a hand on your thigh. "Things have been normal so far, would you want to keep doing things?"

You nodded and smiled as he leaned forward. You said in a whisper, "What things are we talking about specifically?"

"Should I say it?" His breath fanned over your own. He then pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, allowing your eyes to flutter close in delight as you smiled through the kiss. "Or do you want me to show you,"

With that you pressed your lips onto his, hungry for whatever you could have of him. 

For the rest of the summer it continued. The two of your manadged to keep it a secret, not wanting any complications of anyone else trying to put a name to whatever it was the two of you had. 

You didn't even know what it was. Friends with benefits? It was more than that, given how you two cuddled occasionally, kissed occasionally, and went on occasional dates. It stressed you out more to try to figure out what it was than just enjoying it. 

Plus, you knew Conrad cared for you, and you cared for him. That was all that really mattered to you anyway. 

Even when summer ended, you two talked all the time, which was not out of the norm for the two of you. The only difference was the occasional sexting. 

Things were occasional between the two of you, if you couldn't tell by now.

Winter break in Cousin's was your favorite, and when your college gave the students a week off, you were ecstatic. Every year, you never manadged to catch the Conklin and Fisher family, given how they were always given a few weeks off in January instead of February. You grabbed your keys, packed a bag, and headed straight for Cousin's.

Things with Conrad this week had been amazing, but you could tell things were a bit more romatic. Before it was easy to difirenciate when you were only friends and when you were in need of physical touch or intimacy, but now things were all fused and mixed together. 

It didnt bother you enough to talk about it though and neither did he, so you left it at that

You put the last bits of the dishes into the dryer before brushing your hands against the fabric of your cotton shorts. Jeremiah walked into the room with his keys in his hand. "Were headed out."

You looked over at him, grabing your phone and scanning it for any new messages. "Sounds okay,"

"We'll probably be back late, you and Conrad going to be okay?" You deadpanned at the boy.

"We'll be fine," You walked over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and leading him towards the front door, where Steven and Belly stood. "You go have fun with Steven and Belly, god knows you need to take the poor girl out."

"Thank you," Belly said, agreeing with you. "Mom said she'd be back with Susanah in a few hours." 

You nodded, feeling the breeze of the cold air hit your bare shoulders as Steven opened the front door. Steven jumped. "Oh shit! Almost forgot." 

"That monstrousity came for you today," Steven said, pointing over to your left. "It had a small card, some sappy bullshit on it." 

"For me?" You looked over to the side, letting your jaw slack slightly. Placed perfectly in the middle of the table was a huge bouquet full of red roses and white tulips, both of your favorite flowers. They were carefully wrapped in white and silver paper, adorned almost perfectly with a pink satin bow. 

You never got much on Valentine's Day; you were used to giving the presents, not receiving them. You looked at the group aprehensively once more before walking carefully over to the table. You picked up the small card, reading it carefully: 'Happy Valentines Day pretty girl'

You felt your heart thump against your chest. You let out a small chuckle as your cheeks turned red, knowing exactly who these were from. "Dumbass.."

"What was that about not having a boyfriend?" Belly butted in, causing you to snap out of your lovesick trance. You turned to the three of them, who were eyeing you as you stumbled on your words. 

"Just- uhm, some guy thats been bothering me," You nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. The three of them looked at each other. 

"Conrad's gonna be pissed." Steven whispered before closing the door and heading out. You laughed to yourself and looked up the stairs, shaking your head. If only they knew. You placed the card down, looking back at the flowers once more before heading upstairs. 

You turned the corner, knocking softly on Conrad's door. With a hum on his side, you pushed the door open. He was standing near his bed with his shirt in his hand, and off of his body.

"Hey," He said, tossing the shirt into his already open closet. "I was just heading to bed." 

You smiled to yourself while crossing your arms, leaning against the door frame. "I thought you didn't do that lovey valentines day shit" 

He paused, looking at you with a perplexed look on his face. You rolled your eyes, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. Conrad eyed you carefully as you made your way to him. "Are you talking about the flowers?"

"Yes Conrad, I'm talking about the flowers," You said, placing a kiss onto his lips. He smiled into the kiss, letting his hands reach your waist, giving you the space your wrap your arms around his neck. You smiled widely into the kiss, not being able to contain your giddiness. 

Your heart was beating wrapidly in your chest, a feeling only Conrad gave you. You pushed into the kiss, deepening it as you directed his body towards his bed. The back of his knees hit the matress, forcing him to sit on the matress, which gave you the space to crawl onto his lap. 

You pulled away, looking down at the blonde boy whom you were currently straddling. "I'm guessing you liked them?”

"How'd you know roses and tulips were my favorite?" You said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as you admired the facial features you had grown to love. 

"I pay attention," He leaned forward, kissing the spot on your jaw just below your ear, causing a small giggle to erupt from your chest. 

"Thank you," You whispered, pulling away from him and looking into his eyes deeply. "You didn't have to, really."

He stared back at you, heart fluttering wildly. A feeling he was used to feeling around you, something only you brought out in him. It seemed that no matter how many girls would pop into his life or would come up to him at any frat party, you were always the first one on his mind. You were the only one on his mind.

"Of course I did," He kissed your cheek. "Its not even a quarter of what you deserve."

There it was again. He His your jaw again, trsiling soft delicate kissing up your neck. They were affectionate, none trying to iniciate something. Just soft pecks adorned with love and adoration. You let your hands enravel themselves into his hair, sighing in contentment. 

"Things have changed haven’t they?" You whispered as you pulled his body closer to yours. 

"Mhm," He agreed. You looked at the wall in front of you.

"Can we talk about it?" 

Conrad pulled away, looking at you with a look on his face. You stared back in silence. "Talk to me,"

You sighed, not really knowing what to say. Your heart fluttered at the sight of his attention, listening closely to what you had to say. 

The thing is you didnt know what to say. All you knew is that you cared about the boy in front of you a lot, and this ocassional thing has been going on for so long now. You knew you didnt want to end anything, fuck no. But you wanted more and you were scared it was a one paged thing. 

"Whyd you sent me the flowers?" You asked, paying close attention to his features. He smiled to himself, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"Becuase," He started. "You love Valentines day, and you love recieving gifts, giving them as well, but not a lot of people know you like recieving them as well."

He continued. "You hate the color orange, you say it makes you squirmy and uncomfortable. Your favorite movies Rapunzel, great choice by the way,"

"You give so much to the people you love and I can vouch for that." He grabbed your hands, carresing them softly in his own. 

You looked at him in silence. "I don't want to do this thing occasionally anymore, I want it always.”

You and Conrad had always had a strong relationship, and its been a long time since it stopped being just platonic. You knew everything about him and so did he. Hell, it probably stopped being platonic before you even had sex with him for the first time.

Both of you could’ve saved yourselves months of time if you’d let yourself feel what you were meant to feel for each other sooner.

“So this mean what exactly? That you’re officially asking me to be your ‘girlfriend’” You asked, saying the word that felt so foreign. You knitted your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“If that’s something you want,” He said, hope and anxiety flooding his gaze. You stared down at him, smiling softly. You leaned in.

“I’d like that.” You closed the gap between the two of you, sighing deeply into the kiss.

Something inside you felt satisfied. As if your body had been longing for a confirmation that Conrad really was just yours.

He had always been.

You pulled away, hands resting at his bare shoulders as your foreheads rested against each other.

“Can we watch Tangled now?” You asked, voice laced with excitement. He rolled his eyes, pecking your lips softly.

“Duh.”