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munsonkitten · 2 days

Text

read on AO3 | rated T | sick fic

Eddie groans on the other side of the room. He’s curled up on the recliner with a pillow hugged to his chest. Beside him, a half eaten bag of chips and an unopened Mountain Dew can sit on the side table. He groans again and shifts in his seat, drawing his knees up higher to his chest like he’s trying to crawl inside himself.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks from the couch.

A quiet grunt comes from the mess of curly brown hair covering his face. He unravels himself slowly, crawling out of the chair without bothering to put down the foot rest. The pillow gets left where it is, and the chips and his drink lay forgotten where they are.

“I’ll be back.”

Eddie disappears from the living room, and the bathroom door clicks close. He’s gone for a little while, and Steve’s about to get up to check on him when the bathroom door opens again, and then he hears Eddie step out and the bedroom door clicks shut instead. When Eddie finally comes back, he’s replaced his jeans for sweatpants, and he has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders.

“My stomach hurts,” Eddie says, his voice sounding miserable.

It’s a common occurrence at this point. Steve’s used to Eddie being so up and down — he has good days and bad days, and he eats too much junk food for his stomach to handle. Most days something hurts, and Steve wishes he could wrap Eddie up and keep him safe and away from the pain forever.

In the few months they’ve been together, and the year before that they were friends, Steve’s seen more stomach aches, headaches, painful periods, heartburn and other various ailments than he can count. And he knows Eddie can feel completely miserable over the smallest things — he doesn’t handle any of it very well, moaning and groaning and sighing while he looks for tums and ibuprofen and whatever else he needs.

Steve hums empathetically, sitting up in case Eddie wants the spot where he’s laying. “Can I get you anything?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Is it period cramps?”

Eddie shakes his head again.

“Good old fashioned tummy ache, then,” Steve says.

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself. He turns around and goes into the kitchen, and Steve hears glasses clinking in the cupboard, and then the sink running. Eddie comes back with a glass of water, taking small sips as he comes toward Steve.

He places a damp hand on his forehead, and then his cheeks, cooling his pink skin. He might have a fever, too, Steve thinks. Something’s been going around, and it’s knocked out each kid one after the other this week — it was only a matter of time before Eddie or Steve caught it too.

“C’mere, kitten,” Steve says, opening up his arms.

He lays back down, gesturing for Eddie to come lay with him on the couch.

Eddie fits himself half on top of Steve, the rest of him slipping between Steve and the back of the couch. The blanket covers them, and Steve can tell Eddie took off his binder when he left the room, too. It’s rare for him to take it off during the day, even if it’s just them at home with no other plans, so he knows Eddie must really not be feeling good.

“Are you sure you don't want a ginger ale, or something?” Steve asks. He slides his hand up and down Eddie’s back, trying to soothe away the pain.

“Don’t have any.”

“I can run to the store.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Only cure is cuddles.”

“Is that so?” Steve snorts.

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m being attacked by my immune system. I’m sick, Steve. You would make fun of someone for having an illness? Shame on you.”

It’s obvious Eddie’s heart isn’t really in it. The teasing doesn’t feel like it usually does because Eddie just sounds tired. He burrows his warm face into Steve’s neck, and sighs, a quiet groan slipping out along with it.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby,” Steve murmurs.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Always so sweet to me.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll go get some stuff for you, okay?” Steve offers again.

Eddie just hums noncommittally and curls impossibly closer to Steve’s body. He’s snoring softly within the next few minutes, and Steve just turns his attention back to the TV, allowing Eddie to get some rest.

They lay there together for a long while, and Eddie comes in and out of consciousness ever so often. Sometimes he mumbles out quiet words of ‘don’t feel good,’ or laughs at jokes on the show they’re watching, and falls back asleep again.

There’s a warm swell of love in Steve’s chest. The fact that Eddie’s comfortable with him, even when he’s miserable like this, makes Steve fall in love with him even more.

Each nuzzle of Eddie’s warm face against his neck, and each curl of his fingers in Steve’s shirt, or each slide of his leg over Steve’s hip as he gets more comfortable — it all makes Steve feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

The afternoon slips away into evening, and Eddie dozes in and out for most of it. By the time Wayne’s about to leave for work, Eddie’s awake again and groaning in discomfort each time he shifts on the couch.

“I take it someone’s not feeling well,” Wayne comments as he leaves his bedroom. “You need anything before I go, bud?”

“No,” Eddie says, lifting his head just enough to talk to Wayne. He drops it back down with a heavy sigh when the fatigue decides he’s done enough. “Steve’s taking care of me.”

Wayne lingers for just another second, probably waiting to see if Eddie changes his mind, and then he says his goodbyes and tells them he’ll be back in the morning, like always.

Eddie mumbles out a goodbye and a ‘see you later,’ just as Wayne walks out the front door.

He uncurls himself from Steve’s body, then, and worms his way into a sitting position. Steve shifts to give Eddie more room, and raises an eyebrow at him.

There’s a sheen of sweat on Eddie’s face, his forehead glistening and his cheeks a rosy pink. He pushes the blanket off of them and sighs, head lolling back against the backrest of the couch.

“It’s too hot,” Eddie bemoans.

And it’s not, really. It’s winter, and there’s a chill in the air, even inside. Eddie’s like a furnace, though, and his forehead is warm when Steve lifts his hand to touch it.

“You might be really coming down with something,” Steve says.

“You should probably go home,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Steve frowns and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie sighs, loud and long. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Steve says, simply. “I like taking care of you. Figured you’d have noticed that by now.”

Eddie drops his head down to Steve’s chest and moans quietly in his throat. His fingers curl around Steve’s shirt and he holds on, curled in on himself.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts after a few seconds. “Sorry. Just had, like, a wave of nausea.”

“At the thought of me taking care of you?” Steve jokes.

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, baby. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“Give me another second. Please.”

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and he’s radiating feverish heat.

Whatever Eddie has is coming on quick because he was fine this afternoon when Steve first came over. That’s why Steve thought it was just a regular junk food induced stomach ache earlier, and that Eddie would be fine after some tums or a nap, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

He’s been around for headaches and stomach aches and other little ailments, but he’s never seen Eddie sick. Not like this.

Eventually Eddie uncurls himself from Steve, and unsteadily makes his way to his feet. There’s exhaustion in his movements, and Steve is quick to wrap an arm around his waist to help him. It might not be necessary, but Steve can’t help it — he wants to take care of Eddie in any way he can, and making sure he doesn’t pass out in the fifteen feet from the couch to his bedroom seems like a good place to start.

He gets Eddie situated in bed, fluffing up his pillows and making sure his blankets are within reach. Eddie takes one and pulls it up to his chin, rolling over to lay on his side. If he didn’t look so miserable, Steve thinks this would be really cute — Eddie being all cozy and cuddly always makes Steve smile and want to take a picture to save forever.

“I’m going to the store,” Steve says, regretting that he has to leave Eddie alone, but knowing he needs more than they currently have to get through this. “I’ll get you some soup and some ginger ale, okay? Anything else you might need?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just be quick.”

“Of course, baby.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s sweaty forehead, running his fingers through his damp hair, and then he finds his shoes and keys and leaves.

At the store, he picks out a few cans of soup and some ginger ale. He tries to remember what his mom would do for him when he was sick as a kid, and thinks of long nights with a cold towel pressed to his forehead, and a regularly refilled cup of ice for him to chew on. He doesn’t know how much ice Eddie has in his freezer, so he decides he’ll just buy a bag instead of worrying about finding ice trays or how long they’ll take to freeze.

His basket is full by the time he gets to the check out, and he knows he’s been gone for a lot longer than he meant to be.

He gets back to Eddie’s, and finds him still curled up in bed where Steve left him. Steve gives him a Gatorade and a cup of ice before leaving to put the rest of the groceries away.

“Here, try eating something,” Steve says gently, watching as Eddie’s big eyes give him a look that says he wants to do anything else. “Just a few crackers, okay? And I’ll make you some soup in a little bit.”

Steve leaves him to it, a napkin of saltines on his nightstand, and goes to wet a washcloth from the bathroom. He folds it a few times and moves Eddie’s bangs so he can lay it over his forehead.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, bringing a cracker to his mouth to take a few small bites. He finishes it and moves to lay down on his side, now holding the cold washcloth to his forehead.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” Steve asks.

Eddie takes a few small sips of his Gatorade, and then a few more before answering. “I’m okay.”

With that, Steve climbs into Eddie’s bed, settling between his boyfriend and the wall. He pulls a magazine out of the crevice between the bed and the wall and flicks it open to where he left off the last time he was here.

“You’re supposed to be cuddling me,” Eddie huffs, looking over his shoulder at Steve with as playful a look he can muster. “It’s the only cure.”

“How could I forget?”

Steve puts his magazine back, and turns on his side so he can spoon up behind Eddie. His hand settles gently on his stomach, rubbing up and down in a way he hopes is soothing for him.

It’s pretty likely, Steve thinks, that he’s going to get sick soon, too. This stomach bug has wiped out most of their friends at this point, and being this close to Eddie means it’s definitely going to jump to him next.

He finds that he doesn’t really care. There’s no place he’d rather be right now, and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Eddie to ride this out on his own.

“So sweet to me,” Eddie murmurs sleepily. It isn’t the first time he’s said it today.

Steve presses a kiss to the back of his warm neck. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Tired.”

Sleep tugs at Steve, and he lets himself succumb to it, Eddie held safe in his arms.

(please leave kudos on AO3 <3)

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #sick fic #trans eddie #my fics #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve/eddie #stranger things #trans eddie munson

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lemoncrushh · 2 days

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Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over

Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting

Word Count: 1889

A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.

You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.

As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.

You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.

Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.

Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.

Working hard, or hardly working?

You chuckled, texting him back quickly.

Neither. Just got back from lunch.

Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.

You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.

When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.

One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?

Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?

You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.

Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.

Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.

How does Margo's sound?

You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.

Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.

As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!

You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.

What??

Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.

Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.

Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.

Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!

"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.

"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.

You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.

"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."

"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.

A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.

"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."

"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."

You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.

"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.

"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.

"You just got a text from a John," he added.

Oh no.

"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"

Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.

"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.

"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.

"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.

"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"

"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."

His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.

"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.

"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"

"A couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"

You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.

"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.

"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."

He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"

"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"

"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.

"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."

"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"

The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.

"Let me see the texts," he demanded.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"The texts from him. Your conversations."

Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.

"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"

"Why? Because you have something to hide?"

"No, I-"

"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."

You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.

"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.

"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.

"Dead serious."

"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."

You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.

You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.

"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."

You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.

"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.

"I was telling the truth," you said.

"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."

"I did," you nodded.

"And you said you're madly in love with me."

"I did."

"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."

You blinked. "Yes, I did."

"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."

You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."

"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."

You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.

"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."

"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

You slid your hands down his torso.

"Except maybe about being late for dinner."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles writing #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #reader fic #reader insert

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canadianfangirl-95 · 3 days

Text

Window of Opportunity

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader

Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?

Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing

Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.

Word Count: 6k+

“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs.

Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.

Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.

He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”

Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.

Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.”

“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?”

“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.”

“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently.

He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”

You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”

His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”

Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?”

Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.

“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.

Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.

Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?”

Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.

“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.

“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”

With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.

You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.

“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.

You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”

His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?”

Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.”

“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”

“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?”

He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”

Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says.

Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.

You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group.

Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”

Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?”

“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone.

Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?”

Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”

With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?”

“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?”

“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments.

“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.

They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash.

Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.

Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.

Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-.

A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.

He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”

You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.

“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.

Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”

Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face.

Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”

“People change.” He states.

His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.

The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.

Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer.

Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.

Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi.

“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.

Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”

Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.

A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.

“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves.

The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.

The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?”

“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.

Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi.

Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?”

“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.”

“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.

Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth.

Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”

His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead.

Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”

Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.”

Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.

“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.

Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.

“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.

“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.

Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.

Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?”

Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.”

Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible.

Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.

“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble.

Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”

Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.

Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”

Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”

Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”

“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do.

Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.

The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.

Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.

Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.

Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?”

Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”

“From Marcus, not from you.”

“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.

Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.”

Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”

Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,”

“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.

The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.

“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.

Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.

Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.

Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.”

Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?”

Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?”

Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks.

Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.

She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through.

Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.

Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?”

Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.

Frankie 555-666-7777

baseball hat

bar

cutest guy ever?

Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever

He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.

Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations.

Lunch with Frankie <3

Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3

Borrowing Frankies truck <3

No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.

Getting through the day, one step at a time.

drink your water

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it

talk to Frankie <3

He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”

Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.”

“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.

He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic.

Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.

Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.

“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks.

Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”

Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”

“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.

Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.

With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.

After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.

You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.

“Skip wait!”

Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.

“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.

Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.

Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?”

He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.

He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.”

Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.

“Frankie.” You whisper.

He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.

Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.

Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?”

Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”

“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.

You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.

Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.

Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”

He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.

Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.

“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.

“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised.

Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”

Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.”

You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.”

He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face.

“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.

You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages.

Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright.

You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.

Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.

Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner*

Getting through the day, one step at a time.

drink your water

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it

talk to Frankie <3 kiss Frankie <3

Check!

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #fanfiction #triple frontier fic #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

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chubby-needy-puppy · 2 days

Note

I’d invite you over to hang out and greet you warmly at the door. I’d have games set up, snacks, drinks, a lot of wine… I’d pressure you to drink, very gently though. We’d watch your favourite shows and movies and I’ll keep pouring you glass after glass. Maybe I’ll convince you to smoke some weed with me too… no… I’ll give you edibles without telling you what it is. It’ll take an hour or two before it kicks in and when it does I’ll sweetly shush you and hold you. I’ll play with your hair and tell you it’s okay, that you’re safe and you’ll be okay.

“I told you it was edibles… don’t you remember?” I’ll ask you convincingly,

“You must be too high to remember… let me get you some tea.”

I’ll put away the wine, but I’ll bring you cold peach tea, spiked. You won’t even taste the alcohol since you’re too fucked up.

I’ll comfort you and cuddle you, hold you tight and make you feel safe, then I’ll turn on some porn. Puppy play porn. Anytime you try and say something I’ll “shush” you and give you a snack, hand feed you a grape or just shut you down. My hands will start trailing along your body, up under your shirt and playing with your nipples while you’re so cross faded and out of it you can’t stop me. Maybe you’ll pull at my hands, or try to push me off, I’ll just chuckle darkly in your ear,

“Good puppy! So cute!!! I love play fighting with my cute little pup!”

One of my hands will make its way in your pants, rubbing your tdick through your undergarment.

“Good puppy. Poor puppy… can barely move… I’ll make you feel like a good pup, my puppy.”

I’ll grip you until you get wet, then I’ll undress you violently, not caring if I rip or ruin them. I’ll grab some more alcohol and hold your head up by grabbing your chin and force more alcohol down your gullet. I’ll spit in your mouth afterwards so you swallow me with it. You’ll be gasping for air and I’ll push you roughly against the couch, the cold air brushing against your bare and vulnerable skin, ill shove two fingers inside your wet hole and finger fuck you as I tower over you, the other hand around your neck.

“Fucking, whore! You love this don’t you?” I’ll grunt while I assault you. As I finger you I’ll push my knee on your tdick, holding you down and grinding you against me. I’ll finger you until you feel like you need to piss, then I’ll press my knee into your bladder and make you squirt all over.

“What a dirty pup!” I’ll growl, degrading and making fun of you.

I’ll take my throbbing cock out and drag your head to it, rubbing my cock under your nose.

“Suck it.” I’ll pinch your nose until you gasp for air and shove my cock down your throat.

“Be a good puppy for daddy and maybe I won’t rape your other holes.” I lie. I force fuck your throat and pull out when I’m bored.

“You did so good puppy!” I’ll smile smd compliment you, then drag you off the couch so I can bend you over,

“But I lied about not raping you.”

I’ll slide my wet cock full of your saliva inside your puppy breeding hole, and I’ll pound my seed into it.

“Fuck pup, you’re so tight.” I’ll groan as I slide into you,

“I can’t help it. It’s your fault daddy is so hard. You look so handsome all dumb for me.”

I’ll thrust into you,

“You shouldn’t have trusted an older guy, dumb mutt. Now look at you, you’re so wet, you’re enjoying this. You enjoy being nothing but rapemeat, just another puppy to breed, you love being my toy.”

Ill fuck you hard, holding you tight so you can’t get away.

“Ahh fuck. I’m going to cum inside you now. Gonna breed this puppyhole!”

I’ll keep thrusting while I cum, pushing my cum as far into you as I can. When I’m finished, I’ll stay inside you and I’ll move us so you’re sitting on my lap, my cock still stuffed inside of you.

“You did so good pup… you’re mine now.” I’ll bite your neck hard, bruising you as I rub your tdick.

“You’re staying here puppy, I need you to cum more times on my cock.”

We’ll stay like that until I decide otherwise. <3

Gdnvgfbv yes sir- I mean please daddy- I mean uhhhh 😵‍💫😵‍💫🐶

#ftm puppy #ftm nsft #ftm sub #ftm bottom #ftm ns/fw #nsft puppy #trans nsft #t4t nsft #puppy sub #overstim kink #rapetoy #puppyasks

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sp-by-april · 18 hours

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PC!Kyle x F!Reader [Part 2]

[Part One] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I heard from Kyle two weeks later. Honestly, I was used to guys hitting me up immediately so I kind of wondered if he'd just forgotten about me. I was relieved when that wasn't the case.

He said he was having drinks with some of his friends and to meet him at the end of the night and he’d take me to his place. Kinda weird, but whatever. I really wanted to see him.

As I walked in, I saw him talking to a bunch of other old guys.

“She is pretty,” Kyle said.

“She’s hot,” Stan said with a grin, “I was gonna pick her up first, but I figured Kyle could use the fun,”

Kyle frowned, “Is that how you remember it going?”

An awkward smile slid over my face as I embedded myself with the group of men and made my presence known, “That’s pretty much how I remembered it,”

“Pretty girl!” the guys all said in unison as they lifted their assorted glasses towards me.

Kyle kissed my cheek and leaned over my ear with a smirk, “Sorry, they saw my phone,”

I nodded, reaching for the drink in his hand. Thankfully, he handed it over without a second thought.

I finished the liquor and listened intently as all the guys rushed to introduce themselves to me.

Tolkien was a cop. Clyde… I still don’t know what he actually does. Jimmy, was a comedian that I vaguely remembered my mother watching when I was a kid. Kenny, billionaire, needed no introduction but provided one all the same.

I felt more awkward and out of place than ever. I think Kyle realized it because he plucked the drink out of Stan’s hand and placed it in mine.

I was used to older guys vying for my attention so I knew how to navigate it. Older guys tend to like when I’m bolder, brasher, and more irreverent than their younger counterparts. These guys were a lot less intimidated by a woman with a mouth and I appreciated it. I was nervous but the whole thing went fine.

Kyle and I left first. I could hear the guys talking about how lucky he got before the door even closed behind us.

When we got to his place, I was slightly annoyed with having his friends sprung on me but I was horny enough to let it slide. At least, I would have let it slide if he let me.

He looked me up and down as he hung up his blazer and I tossed my purse and pink capelet jacket on his couch.

Kyle tilted his head as he watched me, “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” I lied and approached with my sultriest walk.

“I get it,” A slight smile slid over his face as he reached out and cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand, “You’re closed off because behind the walls, you’re soft – But you don’t have to lie to me,”

I rolled my eyes,“Don’t psychoanalyze me,”

“I’d never,” He chuckled, “I don’t think you could afford it,”

I’d had enough.

“You can’t ignore me for weeks and then spring your friends on me,” I fumed, “And you definitely don’t get to treat me like a trophy after the fact – Like I’m some stupid girl who doesn’t know that some guy is just using her for sex,”

He squinted like he was trying to solve a difficult equation, “How can I be using you for sex if I’m ignoring you at the same time?”

Okay, that time I’d had enough.

“Have fun explaining to your friends how you let a girl like me get away,” I said and spun on my heels to leave.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” He sighed as my hand reached for the doorknob, “And I wasn’t trying to ambush you – Okay, I was trying to ambush you, but for a good reason,”

I turned back to Kyle and crossed my arms, “There’s no good reasons to ambush people,”

“The guys I made those plans months ago and I’ve been swamped at work if you couldn't tell. I couldn’t cancel on them and I wanted to see you. Besides, I figured it would be a quick way to help you get to know me. Kind of like a crash course,”

“You want me to know you?” I asked and took a slow step towards him.

He smirked, “Yeah,”

I took another cautious step, “Why?”

He glanced away and rubbed the nape of his neck, “Because I want to know you,”

“You were really just busy with work?” I asked, walking the rest of the way to meet him.

He slid his palm over my cheek and I stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss and he leaned in, but instead he brought his face to my neck. His other hand found my waist and his nose brushed against my earlobe as he inhaled my scent.

“Trust me, if it were up to me I would’ve had you in my bed every night,” He sighed, his hot breath washing over my skin, “You have no idea what you do to me. I haven’t been this fucking horny since high school,”

He kissed my neck and my fucking heart skipped a beat.

Then the hand on my waist slid over my ass and he pulled me up against him, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you move your hips,”

He finally pulled me into a kiss and I nearly swooned in his arms. I parted my lips and he pulled me into a deeper kiss, his tongue sliding right in my mouth.

His hand slid up my skirt, just to pull my panties down. He pushed my back against the wall and dropped to his knees.

He kissed my thigh as his fingers slid over my slit. I’m pretty sure I felt his breath hitch when he felt how wet I was. His fingers pushed inside and I almost gasped. I think it was the anticipation. I felt like I’d been waiting forever for him to touch me again. The way he moved his fingers felt like fucking magic.

He kissed my hip bone and his fingers curled to massage that sweet spot inside of me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle at least some moaning so I didn’t sound like some slut. I should have known better. Maybe he was right about me having walls.

Either way, he increased the pressure and speed. I felt like I was completely at his mercy. He buried his face against my hip, which pressed into him as his fingers brought me to my climax.

Or they would have if he hadn’t stopped just as I was about to hit my high.

I looked down at him and I swear that I meant to bitch, but instead I just whimpered.

He looked up at me and smirked, “You’re even prettier when when you’re needy,”

“I’m not needy,” I lazily protested.

“Hmm?” He licked a thick stripe over my clit and my entire body shuddered, “Really?”

I whined so loud that I was actually kind of mortified. Seeing the smug look of satisfaction on his face just made it worse.

He got on his feet and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me to his bed, my panties still down at my knees.

He dropped me on his bed and slowly slid my panties down over my ankles. I watched breathlessly as he pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. Then unzipped. Then stepped out of them.

He stroked himself over his boxer-briefs as he looked at me laid out on his bed. I could see every bit of how badly he wanted me. When he finally lost the underwear, I thought I was going to go insane just from the anticipation.

“I want to keep you,” He leaned over me and left a small kiss on my collarbone, “I’m gonna make you my wife,”

“...What?” My breath hitched and I had to replay the sentence in my mind at least three times to make sure that I heard him correctly.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” He rubbed the head of his cock over my slit, picking up my desire for him, “And I’ll make you feel good,”

He kissed my neck and I cupped his cheeks and brought his face to mine. I had to look him in the eyes.

“You promise to take care of me?” I asked him just above a whisper.

“I’ll do more than that,” He groaned as he sank deep into me and I gasped as I felt him push my body to it’s limits.

He held still for just a moment, both of us relishing the initial feeling of him immersed in me, and finally experiencing what we’d both been craving for weeks.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and my eyes rolled back when his hips finally started to move.

“You can do anything you want to me,” I said thinly, struggling to speak and not just moan.

His eyes were glued to me as I moaned shamelessly. His hand palmed my breast and his thumb brushed over my nipple, eliciting a softer moan from me that seemed to enamor him. He pinched my nipple and gave it a light tug, drinking in every soft sound I made.

A small smirk slid over his face just before he locked his mouth onto mine. He picked up the pace, his rhythm getting more and more intense. I couldn’t believe how good he felt, his cock was indulging my sweet spot with every fucking stroke. My hands ran down his back, my freshly manicured nails dragging over his skin.

His hand slid down, held onto my hips as he pressed me into his mattress and kept me in place as he irresistibly pounded into me.

My back arched and as I did my best to resist the orgasm. I lost the fight. My body seized up, and all the bliss that had built up inside of me swelled to an unimaginable, incredible level. Everything was incredible with him. My nails dug into his skin, my back arched even more sharply. I moaned brazenly. My moans were quivering and embarrassingly loud. The sacred space in my core fastened up around him and I grasped him like I needed him to live. Like he meant everything to me. Like I was desperate for him. I think I was.

As I trembled underneath him, the visuals and sensations of my orgasm pushed him over the edge. He groaned low in his throat and his eyes rolled back as his hips bucked into me. He sealed his mouth back onto mine as he drove deep inside of me and his hips noticeably twitched. I moaned into our kiss as his cock pulsed intensely and pumped me full of hot, milky spurts. His tongue slid into my mouth as he finished spilling every bit of his seed glazing my cervix.

He panted over me and pet my hair as all the tension that had built up in his muscles melted off of him. He kissed me again and a sly smile slid over his face, “I’m keeping you for sure,”

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jujutsubaby · 2 days

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after hours (part 10)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: studying at the library is sooo fucking stressful. especially when your final is next week. gojo promises to help you study, but you guys get into other shenanigans instead... ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au, academia au, threesome au ☆ warnings: oral sex (m! receiving and f! receiving), eating it from the back, exhibitionism, choking (on dick) ☆ a/n: HI GUYS SORRY IVE BEEN SOOO MIA work is crazy (it’s beating my ass) and life is so hectic (also beating my ass). i’ve been trying to have a hot girl summer but i assure u i’ve been nonstop thinking of one shots and new plot points for my fics and new ones too so once the seasonal depression kicks in it’s gonna be over for everyone ! ok enjoy :3 sowwee it took so long once again!! 🙏 ☆ wc: 6.7k+ 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

if there was a time in the past when you said the hong kong coffee milk tea you had been drinking did nothing to keep you awake, you sincerely take it back. your brain felt it first, halfway through sipping on the matcha oatmilk latte satoru had brought for you. and then came the uncontrollable leg shaking and the pounding in your head that could only be satiated if you continued to drink from your matcha, although now that wasn’t doing much either.

you snuck a quick look at satoru, who was initially banally transcribing his notes onto his cheat sheet for the final, now animatedly talking through bell’s theorem to nanami and haibara and you (before you zoned out). haibara was rapid fire questioning satoru’s mini-lecture, talking a mile a minute as he tapped his pencil at an unnatural pace on the desk. you look over at nanami, who’s staring at satoru with a thousand yard, wide eyed stare, and realize you all were caffeinated beyond recovery.

the pounding in your head got louder and louder, until it drowned out the noises satoru and haibara. water. you need water. your mouth is too dry. you make eye contact with nanami, and as if he read your mind, he wordlessly reaches into his backpack and hands you his blue hydroflask. you take a swig. and then another. and then you’re chugging the entire bottle like your life depends on it (you think it does in a way).

the pounding in your head fades just as you empty his water bottle. your vice grip on it turns your fingers white and you try to pay attention to what satoru is lecturing about.

“see, the thing about heisenberg’s uncertainty principle is that the more localized the momentum-space wavefunction is, the more likely the particle is found in those values, which by the way, are just fourier transforms of each other…”

what the fuck? uncertainty principle? fourier transforms? those weren’t on the final last time you checked. you quickly pull out your study guide and try to find any mentions of whatever satoru was talking about. you find bell’s theorem (wasn’t he just talking about that? how did he switch topics so fast, and so randomly for that matter?), but no mentions of heisenberg. you turn back to satoru and realize he’s just talking nonsense quantum facts from the top of his head, regardless if it was even part of the class (perhaps as a result of being too wired from the triple shot latte he’s been sipping on).

oh, you need to stop this before everyone gets confused. “satoru, wait, is this even on the final?” if he heard you, he doesn’t let you know, as he continues on his monologue without missing a beat, now talking about quantum computing and turing tests. those aren’t even remotely related to the class you guys are studying for! “satoru! stop talking, jesus fuckin’ christ, dude!” you shake his shoulder, jolting him back to reality as he stops talking and looks over at you confused.

“what? why? did you have a question about what i was saying?”

“yeah, what the fuck? none of that is on the final, what are you even talking about? how do you know, like, all these random physics facts from the top of your head?!” you ask incredulously.

satoru shrugs and looks at you like you’re the weird one for questioning him. “you don’t?”

“not everyone studied applied physics in undergrad and graduated summa cum laude, gojo-sensei,” haibara quipped, still writing down some notes from satoru’s monologue in his notebook. you quickly swat his hand away from writing down any more.

“stop writing what he just said haibara! it’s gonna confuse you when you’re actually studying for the final.” you frown, leaning over to move his notebook away from him.

“what is it do you think we’re doing right now, y/n, if not ‘actually studying for the final’?” nanami says, emphasizing what you had just said. when was the last time he blinked?

“none of us studying right now because we got too fuckin’ wired from the coffee. where did you guys get this battery acid anyway?” you say, taking another sip from your matcha, against your own will.

“philz…” satoru says.

you scoff. “philz?! and you got a triple shot there? how are you alive right now? how are all of you alive right now? why the fuck would you get coffee from philz and not riko’s like usual?!”

“i’m not feeling alive.” haibara chimes.

“i’ve been having an out of body experience for the last thirty minutes,” nanami informs, too calmly for your liking, if you’re being honest.

“suguru told me if he saw my face at riko’s today, he would poison me in my sleep.” satoru says, running his hands through his hair in slight frustration. his legs are restless and so are yours.

“okay, well, it doesn’t matter now because we are never gonna feel normal again. this is our life. anyway, i think we need a break.” everyone nods their heads. “m’gonna go on a walk around the library and fill up your water bottle, nanamin. anyone wanna join?” you get up from your chair and wordlessly, satoru gets up to accompany you.

as you two exit the study room, the change of scenery allows your eyes to adjust to reality and your brain to think of something other than physics, which unfortunately is the deal you made with satoru before walking into the study room and getting wired beyond repair. you decide that while you’re not opposed to blowing him right now, you’re not bringing it up until he does. you look over your shoulder and see satoru following silently behind you and you lead him to a corner of the library, where the water refill stations and bathrooms were.

as you’re filling up nanami’s water bottle, satoru breaks the silence. “should we be worried about nanami and his…umm…out of body experience?”

“aww, you care about nanami, don’t you?” you coo, giving satoru a sly smile.

“if you’re trying to insinuate that i’m in love with him, then you’re right, i am. why else would i secretly stick on post-its with penises on the back of his notebook?”

“you’re the one doing that?!” you turn your head to satoru to shake it disapprovingly and sigh. “he’s been haunted by those wretched things for weeks, satoru! he’s been thinking some girl’s been sexually harassing him!”

you watch him cackle with laughter and shoot him a dirty look. “stop laughing, satoru!” you say, but you’re a hypocrite because you’re also laughing at the situation. “promise me you’ll– shit!” the water overflows from the water bottle as you pour the excess out and seal the cap on.

“c’mere,” satoru says, leading you somewhere deeper into the library.

“anyway, i don’t think we need to worry about nanamin,” you say as you turn the corner and enter a narrow aisle. “i think he just needs to drink water and touch grass or talk to someone that isn’t you.”

“yeah, maybe…” satoru says, as he leads you to another random book aisle, clearly no longer paying attention to you.

“hey, where are we? what are we doing here?” you take a look around at the books around you. greek mythologies? “why are we in the greek–”

your question is cut off by satoru’s lips crashing into yours and his arms pulling you flush against his chest. satoru leans down to your height and tightens his grip on your hips. caught off guard, it takes you a moment to register what was happening before you leaned into the kiss, deepening with opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. the kiss is urgent, hurried, clandestine – stolen in an empty library corridor in the greek mythology section, of all places. aphrodite would be delighted, you think.

you take great pains to not moan into satoru’s mouth in the quiet of the library, but a stifled sigh sneaks out regardless. you feel satoru’s hands slide down to your ass and squeeze, as you use the hand that’s not holding the hydroflask to run your fingers through his undercut, earning a muffled groan from him. he leans down further and lifts you up slightly so that he can shove his legs between yours and move your hips on them. the friction of your clothed core meeting his knee catches you off guard as you drop the hydroflask. it clatters on the ceramic tiled floor of the library and echoes loudly across the library floor.

shit. shit. satoru and you immediately break off the kiss the second the sound rings and you quickly scramble to grab it before it starts rolling to where people are within view. “shit, shit, shit!” you whisper frantically as you fumble to get the water bottle. your face is hot and the pounding in your head is back, begging you for more caffeine. your heart feels like it’s about to go into cardiac arrest for the same reason, but the fact that you were secretly kissing your best friend did not help.

“jesus fuckin’ christ, why are those things so fucking loud,” satoru says, his eyes scanning the neighboring aisles to see if anyone was there.

“why did you knee my clit?” you challenge back in a hushed whisper as you set the hydroflask down on the floor.

“well i had this insane idea that you would like it.” satoru mumbles. you have no interest in arguing with him any further, figuring the best way to beat the pounding in your head was to grab satoru’s sweatshirt and pull him closer to you and continue. with both hands free, you’re able to kiss him and grip his hair to deepen the kiss again.

this time, satoru slowly moves his hands down to your ass and pulls you right against his rock hard bulge of his own arousal. you sigh deeply at the contact, and buck your hips towards his erection, but missing due to the awkward angle. satoru breaks off the kiss in favor of littering your neck with soft butterfly kisses.

“you know, i do recall someone saying they’d blow me in the library…” satoru says in between kisses. his lips feel the soft vibration of your groan and he chuckles against it. “you don’t have to, by the way, if you don’t want to. i don’t wanna–”

“what if want to?” you ask innocently, flashing your eyes at him coquettishly as you push him back and use the hair tie on your wrist to quickly tie your hair back. you slowly sink to your knees. don’t think about how hard the tiled floors are here and just focus on giving him insane head so he cums fast and you get back on your feet. you feel a bit bad thinking that, because you do really want to give him head, but also you’re a woman in your late 20s suffering from joint pain, which was embarrassing in itself.

you push your thoughts of your knee pain on the ceramic tiles aside and start to palm his hard erection through his pants. satoru holds back a groan and throws his head back and holds your wrist and moves it to his belt. you undo it effortlessly, and pull down his pants and underwear, unveiling his well endowed erection in front of you. fuck, it’s so huge.

your hand grips him lightly as you lick a long stripe from the base to the pink tip of his shaft. at the top, you give him a small kiss before your mouth slowly envelopes it, licking it so as to lubricate your mouth for deepthroating him. you slowly go down on him further and further, until you feel him at the back of your throat, before you start bobbing your head back and forth. satoru hisses under his breath as you full take him in and start sucking him off rhythmically.

you feel his hand reach the back of your head and grip your ponytail, helping you control the pace to his liking. the warmth of your mouth and skillful maneuvers of your tongue are sending satoru faster to the edge than he’d like to admit, and he grits his teeth to keep himself from spilling within minutes of you starting the blowjob he’d been thinking about since you mentioned it.

“fuuuck, just like that…” satoru hums deeply. the tip of his cock bullies the back of your thorat, causing your mouth to gag and clench on him. “damn, you love this shit don’t you? deepthroating me in the library where anyone can walk in? where anyone can see how much of a desperate slut you are?”

satoru’s dirty words turn you on more than expected, especially knowing anyone could hear him. you feel yourself getting soaked thinking about the potential chance at someone watching you. what if it was toji? wait, what? how did that thought make you even more wet? thankfully, your moans are muffled by your mouth engulfing him. satoru increases his pace, and starts to fuck your face relentlessly, chasing his high.

just as you were choking on his member, satoru abruptly stilled his movements inside your mouth. your eyes widen, hearing muffled movements nearby and try to remove yourself from his cock, but satoru keeps your head firmly on him via the vice grip on your ponytail, which was slowly coming apart. the muted sounds slowly got quieter and quieter, until they were gone completely, at which point satoru resumed his mouth fucking.

“i bet if i felt you right now, you’d be dripping,” satoru whispers breathily. you whine against him, knowing he’s right – your panties are completely ruined. satoru swears under his breath, and you feel his thrusts get sloppier as you feel his cock pulsating as he gets closer to his climax. you help him reach it by using a hand to lightly cup his balls, a trick you learned from an ex-boyfriend of yours, which turns out to be successful.

“f-fuck, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?” satoru asks, and you moan in response, vibrating against him. you feel hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat. for the second time today, you don’t let a single drop go to waste. you swallow his cum clean, and lick one last stripe across his cock, as you let him go with a lewd pop.

you wipe off some spit on the back of your hand as satoru makes himself decent while catching his breath as fast as possible, leaning against the bookshelf to do so. satoru reaches out his hands lazily to help you get up from your knees on the hard floors, which crack while you stand up. he pulls you closer to his chest as he leans on the library bookshelf, and leans forward to kiss your mouth. you kiss him back briefly before pulling away and checking your phone. “shit, we should go, people might notice that we’ve been gone for way too long…”

satoru rolls his eyes as you grab his hand and lead him down the various aisles he took you through, dropping it only when you caught sight of some students nearby. you cross your arms as you think of how you blew two guys in one day which is not only a new feat for you, but also, kind of annoying that you didn’t get anything in return both times, even though you understood why toji couldn’t.

“somethin’ troubling you, baby girl?” satoru asks, nudging your shoulder.

“oh, what? no, why would you ask that?”

“because you blew me like a minute ago and you’re completely silent. and your arms are crossed and your eyebrows are doing that thing they do when you’re annoy–”

“oh my god, okay i get it!” you say with exasperation, not wanting to hear him characterize you this accurately. “and yeah, whatever, i guess i’m a little miffed, but it’s not a big deal.”

“did i do something wrong?” you hear a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

“oh my god, satoru, no, of course not…it’s just…” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. all of a sudden, you’re feeling shy and meeting satoru’s eyes is a pain so you keep them downcast and cross your arms to your chest even tighter in an effort to self-sooth.

“if it’s embarrassing then i’m sorry, you have to tell me or else i’m gonna be so fuckin’ annoying about it.”

“you’re already so fuckin’ annoying about everything, first of all. and fine, if you must know…” you find the courage to turn your head up to him. “i blew like two guys today including you and do you know how many times i got the favor returned? zero. ZERO!” you felt petulant voicing your concerns this wantonly.

just as you expected, a shit eating grin forms on satoru’s face. “well, why didn’t you say so? you know i’d be more than happy to help that disparity for you.” hearing him tease you about eating you out has you more hot and bothered than you’d like to admit.

“promise?”

“promise. once we get the fuck outta here, my mouth is yours, baby girl.”

“don’t call me that!” you say, grinning as you both approach the table where you left shoko to study on her own. you are surprised to see utahime sitting next to her whispering something in her ear, and shoko shaking in silent laughter.

“oh my god, this bitch…” you say under your breath as you stride towards her desk. so rich of her to tell everyone to shut up when utahime is allowed to say all the jokes in the world. utahime notices you first and her face brightens as she gives you an enthusiastic wave, only for her face to immediately sour when she spots satoru right behind you.

“you can at least pretend you’re excited to see me ‘hime,” teases satoru.

“do not call me that.” utahime seethes before turning her attention back to shoko and you.

“what? you can giggle all you want with utahime but not with us?” you tease shoko.

she rolls her eyes. “i’m on my break, dumbass, look!” she turns on her laptop to show you the 15 minute break timer that has long since elapsed. you look over at utahime and ask her what brings her back to thel library.

“ugh, literally only because shoko is here. otherwise, i’d never step foot back at this place after graduating.” utahime frowns. you remember how you and shoko attended utahime’s graduation ceremony for education master’s last year, which was mostly you and shoko trying to figure out discreetly if utahime was into girls.

the four of you hover around the table and speak in whispered voices and muted laughter, slowly losing track of the volume of your voices. eventually, at some point, everyone is speaking in normal talking voices in the quiet library, all while being blissfully unaware of the dirty pointed looks being given to you guys.

“gojo, what the fuck kinda coffee did you get me, also? me and utahime have been sharing it and we are forreal tweaking off of this,” shoko complains, shaking the empty coffee cup.

“it was philz.” you answer for satoru. utahime and shoko’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“are you trying to murder us?! why didn’t you go to riko’s?!” utahime yells, in a higher than normal level voice.

“i literally cannot have this conversation again,” satoru says, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

your conversation is interrupted by a short stocky man, who you infer to be a library monitor wearing an official looking university sweater vest. “you folks are way too loud. we’ve gotten multiple complaints about the noise levels on this floor. this is your first and last warning, or you all are out.” he says sternly.

“wait, sorr–”

“no excuses, ma’am. just please be silent from now onwards, or there will be consequences.” he interrupts you curtly before walking away from the table. the four of you don’t speak, until satoru breaks the silence.

“why’s his voice like that? so nasally?” he said the last part as nasally as possible, mocking the library monitor.

“you’re so mean!” utahime says as you cover your mouth so she doesn’t see you wordlessly laughing at the admittedly mean imitation.

“who’s so mean?” you turn to see haibara returning to the table with nanami behind him.

“obviously it’s gojo.” nanami says without missing a beat. he eyes his water bottle in your hand and you give it back to him. “why did you guys take so long to get water? our reservation elapsed, so i guess we’re here now.”

heat rushes to your face and you feel like a deer caught in headlights. you’re too stunned to feel relieved that nanami’s eyes are looking less bloodshot and more normal. “oh uhh, we were just…”

“we did a lap around the library, nanamin. had to blow off some steam after all that physics, ya know?” satoru says, putting emphasis on that word. if you weren’t with everyone, you would’ve kicked him hard.

nanami cocks an eyebrow in confusion while haibara doesn’t have a single thought behind his eyes as he readily accepts satoru’s answer. “oh wait! guess what we found while packing our shit up from the study room,” haibara says excitedly.

“haibara, i really don’t wanna–” nanami starts.

“we found another penis post-it note inside his textbook. how about that?” haibara says with much amusement.

“oh my god! no way! do you still think it’s the mysterious girl from physics lab?” shoko says, eyes widening and voice slowly rising. haibara nods excitedly, and you shoot a dirty look at satoru from the corner of your eye, only to see him relishing the conversation.

“yeah, there is this girl who always wants to partner up with nanamin-chan during lab. it’s gotta be her.” satoru shamelessly fans the flames of a wildfire of his own making.

nanami pulls out a chair and buries his face in his arms, but the blush creeping up to his cheeks did not go unnoticed by anyone. “or, radical idea, it’s some girl sexually harassing me.” his mumbles.

“okay, pack it up fellas. i said there’ll be no second warning, so all of you, OUT!” the library monitor takes all of you by surprise as none of you see him coming. “the next time i catch all of you talking loudly at this library results in suspension for the rest of the semester!” he says as you all quietly grab your stuff and leave the library wordlessly. he follows you guys until you’re outside in the crisp evening air and concrete steps of the library entrance.

once he leaves, you allow yourself to freak out. “oh my god, are we gonna get suspended?! they can’t suspend us for this, right? god, i should’ve known you bitches couldn’t shut the fu–”

“jesus christ, y/n, chill. they just say that shit to scare you. this is like my fifth time getting kicked out of this library.” satoru says nonplussed, hands in his pockets as he leisurely descends down the stairs as the rest of you follow him.

“thanks though for throwing us under the bus like that, y/n,” shoko says, rolling her eyes.

“is no one going to bring up why gojo is getting kicked out of libraries this much?” utahime asks.

none of you answer, mostly because no one wants to know the answer to it. satoru’s smug smile is planted permanently on his face as he winks at utahime, and she gags. “anyway, what’s everyone doing? should we get dinner together?” haibara asks warmly, zipping up his jacket. everyone looks at each other and agrees.

“oooh, let’s go to that new thai place downtown!” you suggest, pulling up your phone to look at the hours.

“i’m down, let’s pick up suguru on the way. he’s at riko’s.” satoru responds, his information on suguru’s whereabouts earns a “ooohhh” from everyone.

“he’s still there?! oh my god, he’s in love with that girl…” shoko says.

the six of you take a walk to riko’s cafe, which is slowly closing up for the night. usually, you wouldn’t walk into a place if it was just five minutes before closing time, like you are now, but you figure it’s a special exception since one of your best friends is crushing on the owner. the lot of you inconspicuously make your way outside the cafe glass walls, trying to catch suguru and riko…doing what? you’re not entirely sure but shoko said something about seeing suguru in his “natural habitat”, and all of you agreed (you blame the caffeine).

you crouch down and peer into the cafe to see suguru helping riko wipe down tables and stack up chairs (basically anything that requires heavy lifting). damn…that’s cute. may be love really is worth it. your breath hitches in your throat and you jaw goes slack when you see suguru lean in close to riko and kiss her tenderly. you, shoko, and utahime exchange glances with each other with wide eyes and you hear nanami say something about how we are invading suguru’s privacy. the trance this intimate and now stolen moment is broken as satoru bangs his hands against the wall loudly, scaring the lot of you and suguru and riko inside. suguru looks absolutely flummoxed, while riko immediately steps away from him and pretends to inspect something in the barista area.

you hear satoru yelling through the glass. “open the door, lovebiiiirrdss!” he jiggles the door a couple times to open it but it’s locked. suguru comes closer to open the door and he looks like he’s going to summon curses to obliterate him, and frankly everyone else.

“man, fuck you. what did i say? why are you here?” suguru says immediately after opening the door to satoru. he gives a disappointing stare to nanami and you. “honestly, i expected better from both of you.”

nanami tries to defend himself with little to no avail while you focus on making it up to him by talking about thai food. “sorry, sugu, but let us make it up to you. dinner at that new thai place?”

“can riko come?”

“no!” utahime says out of nowhere. it’s silent for five seconds. “i’m just kidding, hehe. of course she can come!” she says sweetly. shoko is the only one who laughs. utahime’s timing in jokes were always questionable but at least she’s really pretty.

suguru finishes putting up the last few chairs and goes to the back to let riko know about dinner plans. he and her disappear to the break room, and appear three minutes later with their bags and coat. they meet you outside and you notice suguru’s feet are restless, and his hands can’t find a proper place to rest.

“you good, suguru?” you ask.

“y-yeah, all good”, he says, pushing his bangs back.

riko giggle. “he had one too many cups of coffee today.” him, too? “don’t blame him though, they were on the house.”

“oh, okay, great, so we’re all wired as fuck right now.” shoko remarks, as she puts an arm around utahime.

“you guys got coffee? when? i didn’t see you guys stop by for anything?” riko questions, thinking back to customers that stopped by today.

everyone is silent, not wanting to embarrass suguru for the second time in ten minutes. “uh, well…” you start. “satoru got us the coffees today!” you say, passing the ball to his court. his problem now.

satoru shoots you daggers, not feeling fond of being put on the spot to come up with a quick lie. “oh, yeah. uh, i got it from…philz. because…”

“because you hate me and want me to die?” riko says without missing a beat.

“because, uh…the barista…on main street…i’m sleeping with her. that’s it. my bad, riko-chan.” you don’t know what’s more shocking: the fact that you can’t tell if he’s lying or the fact that riko believes him so easily.

riko thankfully drops the subject and everyone moves on to different topics, from haibara asking satoru more information about the hot philz barista and utahime sharing amusing events from teaching high schoolers this week. the group of you bask in the crisp and cool evening air as you walk leisurely to the thai place downtown, which was a nice walk away. once you guys arrive, you are met with the sunday night dinner line, which is awful to say the least. your heart deflates knowing you won’t be able to try this place and you and haibara start to look at other places for dinner before riko interrupts the both of you.

“oh, don’t worry about it. i can get us in, gimme a minute.” she says, before squeezing past a bunch of people waiting in front and greeting the server at the front. the server seems to call someone over from inside the restaurant, and a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and prominent laugh lines comes out, and his eyes light up when he sees riko.

riko laughs and gives him a quick hug and starts talking to him about something and then gestures over to you and your friends. after a while of standing awkwardly, riko finally looks over at your group and motions you all to follow her. as you step into the restaurant, you’re met with romantic low lighting, roses as a centerpiece of every table, and various trinkets related to thai culture hanging on the wall and shelves. the place reminds you of somewhere your parents would take you to as a child after getting good grades in class, and it leaves you feeling nostalgic.

you’re led to a corner of the restaurant where a waiter was quickly pulling two tables together to hold your party. “right this way,” the man says, extending his hand out to the table that was being set up in front of you.

“thank you so much for having us during a busy night,” nanami says, bowing his head slightly in respect.

the man laughs heartily. “oh, anything for riko-chan over here. we business owners gotta stay together, anyway. welcome!” you take a seat on the booth side of the two tables, with shoko sitting next to you and satoru taking the seat directly in front of you. “please let me know if there's anything you need during your dinner. my name is joseph!” you take a quick look at his name tag and as expected, see a silver tag engraved with “JOSEPH J” with his ownership title under it. what a sweet old man.

your thoughts are interrupted by a slightly painful kick under the table to your shin. without looking down, you know in your soul who kicked you, and his stupid ocean eyes are looking directly at you as he mumbles a quick sorry. you waste no time in kicking him back, but earning no response in return. this begins a long game of footsies underneath the table between you and satoru. while trying to keep up with the conversation at the table, your short legs struggle to reach his, and you keep missing his feet. on the other hand, satoru easily dodges your feet and playfully kicks yours under the table (what is he? twelve years old?).

you’re responding to something suguru and utahime said, when satoru uses his legs to spread your legs forcefully apart. you stutter in the middle of your sentence before gaining your composure back, and you feel the heat rise to your face. satoru’s foot inches closer and closer to your inner thigh, and you quickly finish your sentence, before taking large sips of your water. shoko gives you a look, internally asking if you were good to which you wave her off.

“uh, i think i’m gonna use the bathroom, be right back,” you say, abruptly getting out of your seat and beelining to the restroom. you don’t actually need to use it, but you need to catch your breath after how easily satoru spread you apart and toyed with you under the table. you rinse your mouth with the tap water and fix your hair in the mirror when you hear a rap at the door.

you open it and are met with satoru barging inside and locking the door.

“satoru what are you–” you’re interrupted for the second time today with his lips as he kisses you deeply, his tongue immediately asking for access and you granting it too easily. “w-what are you d-doing~” you say in between sharp breaths and satoru kisses your neck and grips your ass hard.

“didn’t you say you needed to cum? i’m helping you out,” he says as he feverishly leaves kisses all over your neck and brings his hands up to the hem of your sweater. he deftly slips his hands under your sweater and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp has his fingers trace every part of your torso and eventually creepy up to your covered breasts. once his hands brush past your erect nipples, you let out a soft moan, inaudible in any normal circumstance, but satoru hears the vibrations through the lips attached to your neck. you can feel him smirking against your neck as he doesn’t let up with his small pecks. the last thing you want to do is give him the satisfaction of making a noise in the bathroom, but your resolve is short lived.

satoru’s hands abruptly leave your chest, and make their way down to the buttons of your jeans. he fumbles with the zipper and you use the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair and leave small kisses on his temples. something about him taking you in the bathroom turns you on immensely, and the only way you can stop yourself from grinding against the air is to keep your mouth preoccupied.

“y’gotta stop squirming, baby,” satoru says through ragged breaths, “can’t get these goddamn pants off you when your hips are grinding against my touch.” you feel a blush creep up to your face. you didn’t even know you were doing that. you thought you were actively keeping your hips stilled.

“i am keeping still,” you whine. “if it’s a skill issue then just say that.” you tease, and egging him on works because once the zipper gets unstuck, your jeans practically fall down your ankles. you bend down to try to get them off completely without having to take off your shoes (you wouldn’t be caught dead in a public bathroom, even a nice one like this, without your shoes), but satoru already has something else in mind.

he spins you around and bends you over the granite counter, your cheeks burning from the shock of coldness of the stone. you breath is jagged as you feel satoru hook his finger to your panties and pull it down, feebly pooling by your ankles. you feel exposed as he hugs the mold of your ass and spreads it apart, but even you can’t help but feel your wetness drip down your inner thigh. you feel satoru’s hard-on press against you, and you try to will the fabric between the two of you to disappear so you could feel his length teasing your entrance. fuck, there’s no getting out of this. do you even want to get out of this? not really…

“s-stop, satoru, we-we have t-to go b-back,” you protest, even though your legs betray you by spreading wider in anticipation of what will happen.

“yeah, that’s why you’re practically dripping right now, right?” satoru says, his voice slightly strained. he kneels so he’s eye level to your dripping wet pussy and entrance. his mouth practically waters in anticipation of tasting you for the first time – something he’s been dying to taste since…god he doesn’t even know how long he’s been wanting this.

he wastes no time plunging his tongue as deep as it can go inside your entrance, and he moans at the taste of you. at the same time, your eyes roll back in the pleasure of it all, your moans no longer being held back. using both hands to hold your hips in place and spread you apart, satoru continues his assault on your pussy, not leaving any part untouched by his tongue. you feel yourself out of breath already, and pushing back against his face, trying to feel the friction on your clit.

satoru seems to catch on, and releases his hold on your hips with one hand and snakes it around you. his fingers find their way to your clit, as if he’s had the path memorized in the back of his hand. he starts rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves, earning breathless moans from you. he already came earlier today, but the sight your legs splayed our and pussy exposed in front of him is enough to make him burst just as hard.

“fuck, feelin’ you clench against my tongue, baby,” satoru says, still drawing small circles on your clit. “gonna cum? this is what you’ve wanted for so long, haven’t you?”

he’s teasing you now, and it’s sickening how that edges you on even more. your pussy clenches harder as his tongue re-enters you, and you know you’re going to spill any minute. the coil tightens inside your lower stomach, and you feel the familiar build up about to burst inside you.

“nghh~ sa-satoru haaa~” you say in between breaths. “m’gonna cum…”

“normally i’d make you beg but you’ve been such a good little girl for me today,” he says, maintaining the relentless pace of bullying your bundle of nerves. his tongue returns back into you, just in time for the coil to release inside you, and you clench uncontrollable against his mouth. your legs shake as satoru continues his ministrations until he senses you’re out of breath.

your face feels damp as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm that ripped through your body. satoru stands up and leans against your bent over body, his breath on your skin tingle. he gives you a quick peck on the back of your neck, before you feel his hard-on against your opening.

“a-are you gonna fuck me, now?” you ask in between breaths. you’re not sure if you could even take him in your fucked out state, but you weren’t raised a quitter.

satoru chuckles softly against your neck before standing up straight. “i’d fuckin’ love to, but you look really roughed up. don’t wanna let people get the wrong idea here…” he teases, and your head immediately shoots up to look at the state of your appearance.

your hair is shooting in all different directions, baby hairs and all. your eye makeup is slightly smudged, mascara creating slight racoon eyes. you gasp at how quickly and carelessly you allowed yourself to get this fucked out, all from getting eaten out. “satoru! what the fuck did you do?!” you exclaim, feebly trying to lift yourself off the counter.

satoru helps you up but frowns. “the fuck did i do?”

you frantically try to smooth your hair down back to it’s original state, but the flyaways still remain, and the humidity of your activities in the bathroom is slowly adding to the frizziness of it. fuck, you’re so screwed. “you…you bent me over! and…” you struggle to find the words to accuse him with. you know it’s not his fault or yours, but you need someone to blame right now.

“and what? gave you head? and then the best orgasm of your life?” he smirks, watching you as you put your pants back on.

“don’t flatter yourself. that was nowhere near the best orgasm i’ve ever had.” you say, making eye contact with him through the mirror, as you wet a paper towel and skillfully try to remove any evidence of running mascara from your face.

satoru raises his eyebrows. “damn, really? guess i just have to keep on giving them to you until one of them is.”

your heart practically leaps out of your chest, and you feel another familiar wetness pool down in your panties just thinking about what this could possibly entail for you.

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glitchxinthematrix · 2 days

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IRREDEEMABLE

Part 4

Love, a concept so complicated to even grasp and yet, every single soul in the universe end up craving it. I have had my share of the cravings, but, news flash, it all resulted in me being left alone stranded. So the concept is now hid safe inside a box. buried deep down somewhere inside, and at times like these I hear the faint screaming it does from the suffocation, all for some acknowledgement. And now, Geto, Love? The one minute he stared longer? Gojo's words kept replaying in my head on my way to find Suguru.

I wouldnt run my thoughts any deeper into this, i mean why should i? what did he do about this? how long has this been going on, and ,oh fuck , thats a pillar and my head is gonna raamm into-, wait no its soft, wait its a hand, a familiar one, shit-

I slowly raised my head to see geto by the vending machine with one can of his favourite drink and the other hand as a barrier to my head and the wall. and yet he doesnt frickin spare me a look, why te hell is his head stooped so low.

Walls are everywhere these days huh?,the audacity to joke around right now without even meeting my eye.

"So youre not even gonna look at me?" I blurt out, unexpectedly helpless in my delivery.

As I see him lift his head up very reluctantly and struggle, i find myself doubting everything gojo previously said, miutes ago.

"Whats up y/n". THE NERVE.

"Didnt take you to be a fuckboi Suguru Senpai, following your best friend's steps is it?"

With a confounded expression I saw him squint his eyes and , well that should be a question then.

"You never called, Geto".

His eyes bulged a bit like he wasnt expecting me to care about the things that we did yesterday. I saw him mumble something under his breath while maintaining the good old strained eyebrows.

"What, you dont care about how i feel now that you slept w me?"

I see his expression waver into immediate shock that desperately needed to set some things straight.

"Y/n..you don't know what you're talking about.. please".

No amount of strained expression from him is helping this mixed signal facade that's happening to me. He takes a deep breathe noticing my baffled expression.

"I do. i do care, more than I've done for anyone else. its just.. by the time you were asleep in my...in my arms, gojo had texted. Soo..it worked. Everything worked out. As intended. Or it didnt, and he came to his senses maybe,finally,else, it doesnt make sense. it makes zero sense. i mean why the fuck would someone not know how to treat you? to treat you shouldnt come as a chore or a result of some challenge, its as natural as breathing air, and idk what was with him all this while, but im sure he realises now, so give him a chance, he'll treat you better I'm sure."

"Is that what you want?"

"What..why..why would it matter, what I think" he visibly gulps, confused.

"It matters to me geto, if you care about me, to know that you like me, I don't know geto you messed with my head, I can't get you out of it...i broke up with gojo."

"What..wait. what?" His face couldn't contain the emotions that rollercoastered through his mind.

"Just say it geto, fucking say it. Do you or do you not like me. Shit, why am I even doing this? " I steer away on my heel as an attempt to hide the tears that are about ruin my mascara, until I feel an immediate grab on my wrist, the same soft hands.

"y/nnn, y/nn....how do i tell you this...you have no idea. not a thing. the way i have craved for you, to be with you, the way i have literally felt my blood boil seeing the way my bestfreind treated you. you have no ideaaa. please dont torment me any more than this, shit im sorry, i know, its not your fault. hell you had no idea how i felt. its just. all you had to do was exist ynnn. the way you aree, the way you smile, hold the hemm of gojos shirt when he failed to pay you the attention you more than deserve, the way you gently hit shoko on her shoulders when you laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way and fuck the way, the way i saw you yesterday, every inch of you, its etched in my memory, by choice. Fuck, I need some water"

I couldn't contain the happiness that bloomed inside me and I had to do something crazy because he looked just too cute.

" for now i can help you moisten your lips I think", I stand on my toes to reach his open mouth, so confused and wary and place the timid but hungry kiss on it, but within seconds he makes sense of things and grabs me by my waist only to land a kiss that lasted longer than the hourly bell that rang twice or thrice after that.

"Aaargh, this...you're tempting me to do something irredeemable again" he breathes with a glistening red lips messy with the stray tints of my lipstick.

"Let's redeem through it this time then."

The smirk on his lips right then looked more promising than ever.

#jjk #fanfic #gojo satoru #geto fanfic #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk × reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto angst #geto fluff

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abnomi · 15 hours

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random assorted headcanons for Turbo because I like thinking and having fun !!!! 🎉

Read More to Find Out...or are you too scared?... i bet ur too scared ahaha youre too scared Lol! Hahaahaaa!!!

The steering wheel of his kart is covered in bite marks, similar to how one would bite their favorite pencil. he bites things to mark his territory because Nobody is gonna touch that unless they want all of his diseases (150+).

i just know he was fighting to restrain himself not to chew on any of the candy civilians

when it comes to music, he doesn't see the point of listening to it. he doesn't have enough patience to really take it in; to him, it's just a thing that exists and not much more than that ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ∵⁠ )⁠_⁠/⁠¯

adding onto that point, this guy listens to metal clanking sounds and loud engine roaring for entertainment because he likes things that would overstimulate any normal person. turbo is incredibly sensory-seeking and will do anything for The Sensations

someone should take him to a heavy rock concert i think it would change him a little. keep that thang on a leash

related to being sensory-seeking, i think he would absolutely love running his hands over random textures. if anyone has run their hands along a wall while walking alongside it...He does that...If u know u know... he is SO stimmy its unbelievable. Unreal.

very pain-tolerant. he'll whine and complain about it for attention, but physical hurt really doesnt bother him much until it gets in the way of what he wants to do.

funnily enough, he is very picky when it comes to temperature. he can handle getting ran over but if its 1° too hot or cold he'll start nagging and nagging for it to go back to normal. turbo really needs his own enclosure i think it'd do him a lot of good

this is a more popular headcanon and its canon-leaning, but he's an artist :-] he usually sticks to graffiti art because its generally considered more "rebellious and cool" but he also sketches cars, design decals, and other stuff when hes alone!

i would love to see his process of character designing king candy because i dont think he really knew what he was doing

he was just like "ok what does a generic king look like. uhhhhh.... 1, old and jolly like santa claus.... 2.... uhh crown..... 3......... purple.... FUCK YEAH im so good at this!!!!🔥🔥🔥"

i just noticed how his design has like 0 actual candy motifs aside from his bow being a candy wrapper and his shoes having those little gumdrop end pieces. what was he THINKING

while King Candy has a lisp, i think it's a coverup for his actual voice because of how goofy and recognizable it is. Overall its the same as his regular voice, he just gets silly with it. i noticed that he still does retain some of his lisp when hes screaming his lungs out at Vanellope, however, so maybe he genuinely does have a lisp that makes itself known when furious :3

another thing i noticed is how he hisses his S's. very cool very cool the reptilian

@/tasticturbo made a post abt how he has tinnitus from the constant noise in his game and i couldnt agree more

AND THE PRESCRIPTION GLASSES. where did he get those...he needs to See

side note, the aforementioned account has made so many interesting analyses on turbo and theyre all so insightful. i recommend u check them out

i think he gets migraines from stress. constant buzzing or pain flood his head but hes like "IDGAF i need to DO something at ALL TIMES no matter what"

hes like a shark in that way. if hes not moving he'll die instantly. idk a lot about sharks or if thats how it works srry but im going off of what the Worms are saying to me and i dont have much to work with

i think a really big contributer as to why he lacks in the self care department is because he fails to notice that something in his body is wrong. hes far too distracted on something he thinks is more important than remembering to Eat Food or Drink Water or Wash Himself or

he's like "WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SHIT ALL OF THE TIME!!! I HATE MY LIFE" and he hasn't slept in 4 days

hes so me. Sorry.

i dont think turbo is necessarily suicidal, but the way he behaves shows a clear disregard for his own safety and wellbeing. he thinks that he knows what he needs but he really doesnt :-[ i think he has some kind of immortality complex, feeling untouchable and like nothing could get to him. as scared as he was when ralph was about to turn him into sloppy mush, he didnt take the threat very seriously. like it was some kind of joke

his kart regenerates every time his game starts up, so what if he smashed it into buildings for fun. He's the number one fan of car accidents. he is all about that shit

i think his living space would literally be a garage btw. its a place to sleep and a space for his car all in one!! he thinks its very convenient and awesome but i think he is coping. he has some old dingy stained sheetless mattress that he has never washed in his life and its covered in dirt and smoke particles. no wonder he has such heavy eye bags Dude Please

the turbo twins have a garage used in a similar way, and while its still pretty shitty, they still at least TRY to maintain it. they just fight a lot over who has to care of it. nobody taught them how to take turns ever

but this aint about them. maybe another day

i think that turbo would find comfort in garbage and keeping it around because its familiar to him. a big clean empty space would make him so mad and if anyone moves even an inch of scrap off to the side he will throw a fit. he generally doesnt pay attention to his surroundings but when its his personal space he is 1093 times more neurotic

i think the big empty castle he stole wouldve been a big transition for him. maybe it helped him clear his mind a little more to practice his tricky schemes...it helped him get more subtle

thats all i have for nowww ty for reading ^_^ if anyone else has any wacky ideas pleeeease tell me i would love to hear them!!

#tw suicide mention #its very brief but still #turbo wir #turbo #king candy wir #king candy #headcanon #analysis #<- ??#wat ever #i like little details that dont impact the story at all whatsoever. it just makes the characters feel so much more lively #like i could have full conversations with this guy in my head (normal)#side note i really want to talk about the turbo twins bec i fuckin love them but then i remember they have no personality in the movie--#--so id be making analyses on other peoples interpretations of them HAHA. EVERYONE STOP BEING CREATIVE NOWWWE!!!!#love for ever

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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months

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theres currently 194 chapter ideas for www. i need... i need to condense... urgkjfdbkjgf

#sophie speaks #sophie answers #series:www #realising that i am both the writer who writes too much and too little at the same time #HELP me #thatd be like... 7 full books if i fleshed them all out #keep in mind www wip has 63k words in it compared to the 37k published like #thats almost double what am i DOING #head in my hands. i need a drink (does not drink)#like WHAT. WHAT IS THE SOLUTION HERE #i mean i know what the solution is the solution is be healthy lmfao #idk if id ever be able to be those authors who do rapid releases and are like 'i write about 5k a day' but yknow i could really do better #if i didnt get regularly shot in the foot #we're gonna do a radiology thing soon tho... maybe thatll help somewhat?? more pills yayyyy #chronic utis i hate you kill yourself #me: im gonna do some writing :)#me: immediately goes straight to tumblr to complain about the hole ive dug myslef in #oh who cares if it takes me ten years to finish this the time will pass anyways

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swordmaid · 15 days

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having shri’iia thoughts as one does bc GUESS who’s save file completely died when the new patch came out nooo we have to replay her again 🤭 alas. just stewing on the thought of how she never got to fuck her Mistress even though she wanted to…!!!! like she was out there getting psychologically tortured and mind broken but she was just like WHY won’t you fuck me im literally doing everything for you. which is so bad for her, woman who already has an excruciatingly low self worth because she missed the mark on the standard for lolth’s children (and that’s worse than not fitting in the standard at all) by something out of her own control btw (not being born in a noble house) but she’s been recognised and blessed by her goddess, and she’s been invited to join a drow house so everything should be good right?? she should be desirable right?? finally everything is correct and well and good and the way it should be right????? but no..!! it’s not..!! and so she’s doing everything for this woman, no dignity left, literally doing anything to get her approval, to be told that she’s finally enough, and she’s finally fitting in - and she gets it sometimes, she gets ignored most times tbh and it’s just this painful excruciating stew of self loathing and insecurity that she’s in, and she’s in there for a century but the thing is she can’t even give up. it’s not in her nature to. and she’s done too much to just give up , and she’s been doing this for a long time that she can’t give up and lolth didn’t raise no quitters so she sticks by it, trying to achieve that hopeless praise. but then one day she gets dropped like nothing, everything she’s done and suffered and worked towards and sacrificed gets thrown out bc her goddess isn’t pleased with her and good luck going home btw you’re not welcome here anymore bc ur pathetic. the rug gets pulled under her feet and she’s left in this strange world that she can barely navigate in let alone speak the language and u expect her to b fine with that…?

#I rlly want to. hmm maybe make a comic or draw something abt shri’iia in the tiefling party #^ bc that is the turmoil currently and she’s PANICKING …!!!!#but she can’t show it. she can’t give herself away. so she gets DRUNK. and she’s in her corner chugging down wine #also like the idea there that she undoes her braid bc her hands aren’t steady enough to put it back to her usual style #and maybe it keeps getting caught lol. so hair down shri’iia 🤭🥳 and her hair is wavy going down near her feet 🥳#hair down drunk shri’iia who looks like she’s having so much fun but if you look at her properly her eyes are rabid #and if u just watch her she’ll just stare at her hands with the most haunted expression #but if someone gets close to her she’ll go back to smiling and laughing and it’s so fun woohoo 🥳#but if someone invites her for a chat she doesn’t want that. just fuck her please the last woman she’s with never did even #though she always got her off. and when she does sleep someone she gets disarmed and bewildered that it’s mutual #and someone else makes her come after how many years #and that in itself is so dreadful that she can’t think about it so she’s like can you drain me again. like what u did before idc just go #for it idcccc and astarion is like. mid dissociating just going through his motions caught off guard bc this is the first time he’s #gonna be drinking someone and fucking them so . unsure what he feels about that chat let’s put a pin on it. does drink her albeit much more #demure than before. he doesn’t wanna go overboard. only doing What he Needs to Do. like hag romance first time rlly is about #the deceit and using each other for their own agenda. so when the act 3 graveyard comes around it’s like a redo of their first time bc #they’re both aware! and present! and there’s no pretense! and I like the idea that shri’iia actually confesses after like when they’re #holding each other. admits that she was actually scared of her own feelings bc it’s new. doesn’t know what to do with it. she’s very aware #of how she loves and her devotion and she doesn’t want to subject him to do bc it’s a Lot #but she wants to learn. and she wants to give her love if he wants it (just want to know if ur capable of love!!!!!)#and it’s this SWEET confession in my head augh aughhh 😭😭😭😭😭😭 maybe I’ll just do a comic of the graveyard scene lol #bc in my head. it’s a bit different. 🤭🤭 and I like it a lot heheheheh…..#shut up about bg3.#bg3 spoilers #oc: shri’iia.

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lusalemaart · 1 year

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And now I'm stuck in baby prison.

#i know i cant be free. i hang my head and. pee.#oh my god(ot) he is my. he is. he is my. hes my. my #COUGH kin COUGH #kin list lookin grimmer by the minute. lookin not only embarrassing. but also demanding of a psychiatric evaluation. love that for me.#i love caw feh i love cawfeh so MUCH i cant accomplish anything without first havin' a cup. and then. once ive had 1 cup.#i need to have a NOTHER cup. of. caw feh. i have about eleven cups a day. hey hey. hey hey hey hey HEY. i cant do anything without cawfeh #i'm. addicted to caffEINE.#inside you there are two wolves. they are both painfully bisexual as all hell.#ace attorney #godot ace attorney #godot #omg my hand fucking hurts i cant feel my fingers.#so does my eye. my horners syndrome been flaring up like mad bc i have no more refills on my meds and im dying #like. i have some sort of stressful condition on my eyes. omg u too godot!? omg.... thas so cool...#diego armando #Kaminogi Souryu #do i need to tag spoilers its 2023. i mean. i only played the third game this past year myself but. still.#souryo kaminogi #i feel like i had one more thing to say but i fg wtf it was.#i was JUST a baby boy... always be a baby dont ever be a gun. a.lways drinking. codfee. jsut a babye drinkgin. coffe #SORRY my illegible handwriting is SHIT! So are my hands. And so is my writing. OMG it all makes so much sense now🤯#WOAH🤯🤯🤯🤯just had a GIGA revelation!! It all adds up!!🤯🤯🤯#Its voice is similar to a human's but it is impossible to understand.

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trueloveandy · 3 months

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i kinda want to 2 do a mountain dew base because i like mountain dew and also see it as a fairly neutral base. like u can put most flavors in it and have it turn out okay. but u cant put blue raspberry in pepsi/coca cola without that sounding weird ? i would say it's bad but i've never tried it idk it might be fine. but like. versatile

#i dont really like sprite too much #its okay but like ?#lemon lime is just.#interesting ?#idk im not 2 big on it #might just be the mixture at my work too tbh #i keep typing our and like. that is not correct.#im kinda leaning towards blackberry idk i've never tried it i wanna see if it's good but like ? would he like blackberries? idk #at least with casper i had some sort of taste profile #gotta figure it out with my guy pancho #tryin to avoid being mean with his drink thats not fun #i can choose love and kindness #there's a drink called the endless summer #which is almost eternal summer #which could be pancho #so i might modify that to start ?#whats even in that #obh huh. weird drink #i need to put ddown thoughts uhm #i think maybe ?? he seems like a puree and cream guy (i'm a cream and puree guy)#mountain dew im just bullshitting i need it to be smth im willing to drink #like caspers . thats a stretch for me to be able to drink sometimes but it's good enough that it gets me through my shfit #he does seem like hed come up with some weird combo though #pancho would BULLSHIT a drink mayeb im thinking too hard about it #i need to get back in his head #maybe ill bullshit smth tmr and that can be my pancho drink if i like it #he seems like an energy drink guy soemtimes but thats gross i dont like energy drinks i cant drink that #my tags got so out of hand they got cut off. oops.#anthonys tumblr adventure

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titaswrld · 2 months

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Hi! I like your Deadpool as your boyfriend post, can you please do Logan as your boyfriend next? 😄

logan howlett (wolvie)

…as your boyfriend!

description: wolverine, logan howlett as your boyfriend!

pairing: wolvie x you!

|an: my man my man he love me!

- he’s so big and so tall and scruffy and so mmm. that’s your man! and u want everyone to know it

- like i keep mentioning, he is manhandling tf out of you no matter ur size, all the time!

- he thinks it’s soo cute that he can pick you up in his arms with ease and he loves to hear squeal out a “logaaan!” as he throws you on to the bed

- he’s so standoffish and kinda shy when you’re first around each other bc he’s sooo into you and he thinks you’re so cute

- but once he founds out you dig him too ooo girl

- he grows such a big soft spot for you, you’re the only person that ever sees him vulnerable. and he’s such a silly goose.

- he becomes so much more himself, he’s messing with you all the time throwing teasing insults with a smirk on his face just to watch you get all riled up from him.

- he’s also flirting with you 24/7 girl he’s hot and he knows it. sometimes he’s rather crude but you like it. so it’s okay!

“nice shorts you got there little lady” he said with a teasing tone as you walked past him into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

“god they’re not even that short!” you’d said, pulling them down a bit. they were that short. but hey, they did the job.

and by job, you mean drive logan crazy.

- but once you become his omg…

- you’re his. nobody is touching you and he’ll make sure of that. and it’s pretty hot.

- if anybody even has body language that even slightly seems like they’re into you oh girl….

- they’re becoming a new scratching post!

- not only are you his, but he’s yours. super loyal! and if he can’t get someone off his back, you bet your ass you will!

- you always feel so protected and he always makes you feel so protected because you are! he would do anything for you and to make sure his lover is safe and sound.

- he’s so obsessed with you and he’s not afraid to hide it, he’s not overly affectionate but he is in fact a cuddle monster.

- he’ll hold your hand, or shove a hand in your back pocket, or lend you his jacket to let people know your his, but he saves the good stuff for back at home.

- you’re also his drinking buddy, he isn’t a fan of the tequila like you are, he’ll stick to his whiskey. but he always takes care of you after a night out and makes sure you’re snug as a bug!

- he is the biggest dom ever omg it’s so hard to get him to sub out for you but when he finally does it’s the best night of your life.

- all the noises he makes that you’ve never heard from him are music to your ears.

- a MUNCH. need i say more? thats why he got that damn beard!

- oh and we know those abs are like a pack of buttered up hawaiian rolls and you wanna go for a ride!

- of course he’ll let you! anything for his babygirl, lick em, touch em, fuck em, anything his baby wants. as long as he gets to watch and as long as you feel good.

- he also loves the praise as you ride yourself out on his abs.

- he loves attention and praise, especially when it’s about his figure.

you and logan lie in bed, his figure cradling yours as he slowly felt you slot your head between his craned arm.

“your muscles are so big babe. give me a lil flex.” you stated, holding on to outside of his forearm with your neck between the underside his forearm and bicep.

“you’re crazy bub.” he states, chuckling and lightly flexing his arm, not enough to hurt you but enough to satisfy you and make you giggle as his big muscles squished your cheeks together.

- you’re always touching his muscles, they’re so hot. and hey, he doesn’t work out like that for nothing! he loves it when you cling to his biceps, or run your fingers down his chiseled back.

#deadpool wolverine #wolverine #hugh jackman #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine x you

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mostly-imagines · 3 months

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Sugar on the Rim I

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

warnings: implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), mentions of sex, smut in next part

You twist the stem of the wine glass around between your fingers slowly. Your chin rests atop your knees as you stare vacantly at the tiny puddle left of the drink. You could go refill it, but then you’d have to go back out to the main room and man…you really do not want to do that. So you’ll sit here, swiping your tongue across the bumps of the roof of your mouth as if it's a fascinating new discovery.

The creak of hinges has you shooting upright, your back thumping against the stair step behind you. You’re not immediately sure how to act as though it’s normal that you’re sitting in the stairwell outside the gala rather than in it, fraternizing with old and new money alike. You freeze, trying to relax your posture so it doesn’t look like you’re alarmed at the sight of another person, but not so relaxed that you look as bored as you are.

Your neutrality stutters when you glance up to find the host of the fundraiser. The billionaire host of the fundraiser. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire host of the fundraiser. Your posture straightens right back up and your mouth snaps shut as you make eye contact.

Should you stand up?

No, he’s rich, not royalty.

You are in his house though—

He looks you over contemplatively, “I don’t know you,” It’s not accusatory, rather he says it like it’s something interesting.

You perk up at that, immediately formulating reasons to justify your presence. “Oh, uh, no—” the words nearly spill out of your mouth all at once. You clear your throat, “I’m just a plus one for my boss—”

“Who’s your boss?” he asks, relaxed.

“Arthur Mullins.”

He looks to the side, squinting, “Mullins…he’s the executive at Williamson Industries, yes?”

You nod and he returns the gesture, slower, like he’s processing through something. “I’m Bruce,” he says warmly after a moment, holding his hand out to you.

You nod before you can even think to get any words to come out, “I—yeah, I know,” you accept his hand, shaking it as you tell him your name.

There’s a slight glint in his eye when he hears your name, and he repeats it quietly to himself. “A pretty name.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Just your name. But rather than fill him in on that fascinating tidbit, you let the sentence die off.

He smiles kindly anyway, “What are you doing in here? Party’s out there, or so they tell me.”

“I…I’m hiding in here,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans in towards you slightly, lowering his voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret—so am I,” he smiles at you like it’s easy.

Your grin matches his, “It’s your party,”

“That’s why I need to hide.” He tilts his head, “Doesn’t give you much of an excuse though, does it?”

“I don’t know anybody here.”

He puckers his bottom lip contemplatively, “Your boss.”

You shake your head, “I’m just his assistant. I’m pretty sure he just brought me as a precaution in case he needed a designated driver.”

He laughs at that, “Based on the way I’ve seen Mullins’ attempts to operate, his assistant would have to be a hell of a lot more important than just a designated driver.”

Well, he’s certainly right about that. Your boss doesn’t exactly “have it together” per se. He’s an unorganized man with little to justify his importance in Gotham, so he tends to insist on taking on more responsibility than he has any business having. Not to mention, he’s a bit of a try-hard and you’re constantly left to sweep up the pieces of his reputation that he shattered himself. Not to say he’s necessarily unprofessional, he just will do anything and everything to prove he belongs in any given space. It’s honestly a bit exhausting to watch. It’s more exhausting to try and convince him that the exchange went well afterwards.

You nod slowly, eyes on his shoes. “Mr. Mullins has…a unique approach to business. It does usually leave me fairly busy, I’ll give you that.” You take a quick deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. “But that means I occasionally get to go to fancy parties where I don’t know anyone, so..”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he ribs, “Or don’t you agree?”

You smile coyly, “I would never be so bold.”

“I don’t mind boldness. For example, the reason I came in here is because he spotted me.”

You laugh at that, “Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Mr. Wayne,” you suppress your smile as you pause, choosing your words carefully. “I think he’s just networking.” He doesn’t have the money to give.

He nods surely, “He’s definitely just networking.” He really doesn’t have the money to give. You allow just the faintest wisp of a smile to adorn your face as you look down again.

You check the time and realize that you’ve been hiding away for too long and that if he hasn’t already, your boss will notice soon. You sigh quietly to yourself, “I should..”

He turns his head to the closed door where the chatter can be heard from beyond, sighing in defeat as he shakes his head looking back at you. “So should I.”

You feel a bit insecure as you stand, the gown you’re wearing is pretty but it is very much affordable and you’re sure someone as wealthy as Bruce Wayne would know the difference.

If he does notice he makes no deal of it, motioning you forward gallantly to walk ahead of him.

He follows after you, hands behind his back. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to distract him while I run for the bar?”

It’s busy, even for a Sunday afternoon, and you have to sidestep past someone nearly every step you take. You stick next to the windows of the line of boutiques down the road, trying to balance window shopping and not bumping into other pedestrians.

You're in a nicer district of Gotham, truthfully an area you don't quite belong in. So far you’ve only managed to find a couple shops that weren’t several ranges above your budget.

A call of your name has you blinking rapidly and turning around as if you’re lost. It doesn’t take long for you to pick the six foot two billionaire out of the crowd and it’s only half a second longer before you realize he’s walking towards you. A few people collide shoulders with you as they move past thoughtlessly, no regard for the personal space of the idiot that stopped in the flow of traffic.

You let him approach a couple feet closer before you ask him, “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Wayne?” The presence of his figure in front of you allows for a break from being bumped into, as he seemingly makes for a far more easily seen and intentionally avoided target.

He sways a bit, “Bruce. I’m not sure yet,” he looks down to the couple of bags you’re holding, extending his hand out. “May I?”

It takes you just a moment to move past your surprise at the request, allowing him to hold them for you. “Are you in a rush?”

You shake your head quicker than you meant to, “No, I—not at all,” he gestures his head forward, allowing you to walk before him.

You traipse ahead in silence for a moment before deciding against biting your tongue, “What exactly is it you’re not sure about?”

He raises his voice a bit so you can hear him over the crowd, “Whether or not you’ve got plans on the 19th.”

You look back at him, “What’s on the 19th?”

He stops with you as you admire a set of jewelry inside a window display, “We’re hosting a gala for something or something else, hopefully less boring than the fundraiser.”

You blink, “You’re inviting me?” He nods. “Why?”

“I could use someone who wants to be there even less than I do.”

He said it so casually it takes you a second to even register his meaning. You blink, face contorting defensively, “That’s not—” you can barely make out the smile on his face as he continues on walking.

You shake your composure back together and trail after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t think Mr. Mullins would be very happy to hear that I’m attending a business gala without him.”

He shakes his head as he scans over the crowd, “He can’t fire you for that.”

“He’ll try.” He would. A petty little man, he is.

He scans across the rows of clothes leisurely. “Well, then he can speak to me about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for business.” And then he just lets that sentence linger.

It takes you a moment to recover from those words and begin to start processing the world around you again. After a few more feet down the sidewalk he pulls you gently to the side by your lower arm, out of the rush of traffic, and looks at you dead on, “What do you think?”

You try not to waver under the weight of the eye contact, “I don’t…uh, I don’t really have…” you look down, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say the words.

He glances into the store window next to you and raises his eyebrows, “Well then I’d say we’re in the right place.”

You can’t manage to tell him that this store is definitely far too expensive for you, walking through the door as he opens it for you, albeit apprehensively.

Well. Up close window shopping is more fun anyways.

The spotless white of the floors and walls has you intimidated, and just as much so by less by the no doubt designer clothes lining the walls. The saleswomen all look pretty highbrow themselves, hair up in tight buns and uniforms chic.

You only break from gawking at the store to look behind you at Bruce. You note the way his eyes roam around blindly, looking for something and clearly having no means to narrow down where it might be. You take one more glance around, immediately finding the women's section with no such difficulty.

“This way.” You say, nodding your head over to the left. He recovers nicely and lets you lead the way towards the section of dresses. You peer back at him, “You don’t seem like someone that does much of his own shopping.”

Thankfully, he laughs at that. “Well, special occasions.”

You keep your gaze ahead this time, asking as casually as you can, “Is this a special occasion?”

He hums in consideration, “I’d say so.”

You stop upon approaching the dress section, taking in the immediately stunning display of options.

“What are you doing up here anyways?” you ask, hand brushing across a particularly plush dress.

“Ah, I was headed to a meeting.”

“Oh,” you frown, looking at him. “Don’t you need to go?”

He shakes his head with a puckered lower lip, “No.”

A few seemingly heiresses roam down the aisle mindlessly, not caring much that you’re in their path.

Bruce sees them before you do, knowing well that they were not going to excuse themselves. “Sweetheart,” he nudges you gently to the side, closer to him as the group passes. His hand remained open-palmed and flat as he guided you to the side, seemingly very careful not to touch you with uninvited boldness. Though you’re quite shaken by the chivalry of the gesture, a brazen touch wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

As your arm brushes against a rack of clothing your gaze follows, met with something rather appealing.

Bruce is quick to notice you admiring the sleek black dress that looks like something you’d see a model wearing on a runway. “You like that one?”

“It’s nice, yeah,” you murmur, not really thinking. You flip the price tag over and your face drops. “It’s $800.”

He nods thoughtfully, “We can find a nicer one,” he says, though it’s clear he knows exactly what your problem with the price tag was.

“I can’t—” you restart, “I would never have a reason to wear something this nice again.”

He shakes his head coolly, “That’s alright.”

Your shoulders drop and your head tilts seriously, “It’s not, though.”

“You like it?” He looks you in the eyes, his own searching for a truthful answer.

“I mean, of course, but it—”

He nods affirmatively, “Then we’ll get it. Problem solved.” He turns his back to the rack, casually observing the rest of the store goers. “Pick your size.”

Apparently not one to argue, you thumb through the row until you find one that should fit.

You sigh, realizing that you’re running out of time to mention that you don’t have $800 to spend on a dress. “I can’t—”

“You don’t need to,” he says simply as he takes the dress off the rack and drapes it across his arm, making his way towards the salescounter.

You try to stop your mouth from hanging open as you follow, “It really is okay, I don’t need—”

His grin cuts you off, just in time for you to hear him mutter, “Sweet girl..” to himself. You stop right in your tracks, feeling very thankful that he’s not looking at you right now because you’re certain the look on your face would give you away.

He still doesn’t face you as he calls out, “Come on,” as he continues on.

Obviously you’re not stupid. You know what type of intentions a billionaire playboy must have with a younger girl that he doesn’t even really know. However, if said billionaire is offering to buy you a pretty dress…no, you’re not sleeping with him because he bought you a dress—of course not—and you’ve made absolutely no promises to do so, so what’s the harm in letting him? Really?

And yeah, maybe it’s a plus that he’s not bad looking, but how is that your fault?

You stand a bit awkwardly next to him as he puts his card in the machine, not even glancing at the outrageous number, and declines the offer for the receipt.

As you exit the store together and stand at the doors as he hands your original two bags back to you along with the new shiny black one that on its own looks like something people would pay for.

“You will be there?” he asks, eyes more hopeful than you were prepared for.

You nod, gesturing the bag up, “Well you just bought me the dress.”

He shrugs that off, “I would’ve bought you the dress anyways.”

You linger in the midst of the ado wearing a dress that you feel far too overshadowed by, fidgeting with the half empty wine glass in your hand. Unfortunately, this time around you were invited by the host of the event and it would be extra rude to run away and hide. That doesn’t stop you from considering it, though.

A hand sliding across your lower back has you momentarily startled, and for reasons you couldn’t quite verbalize, you’d naturally assumed it was Bruce. The disappointment rings strong when you turn around to be met with the sight of an even older man, who looks considerably wine drunk.

“Hello there, Miss.,” The words themselves are polite but the salacious smile on his face and the way his eyes have no trouble roaming your body gives you a solid idea of what this conversation is going to entail.

“Hello,” you fake a polite, tight smile and shift your attention to the rest of the room.

This does nothing to deter him, as he takes a sizable step back into your line of sight. “Having a nice time?”

The man is clearly from money, if his attire didn’t give it away his attitude sure did. There’s an heir of entitlement around him, like he’s inherently deservant of your attention—a quality you were notably surprised to not have found in Bruce.

You give him your faux-smile again, this time tighter but half a second longer for the sake of politeness. A rookie mistake.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, gesturing to the bar.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say, gesturing your wine glass up.

A momentary flash of irritation crosses his face, but to his credit, he does a better job recovering from it than you would have expected. Though, that’s not really saying much. “Well, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone here,”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Both of your heads snap to the side, finding a much more welcome surprise than you’d previously received.

Your counterpart's posture straightens immediately, “Mr. Wayne,” he fawns, “What a lovely event you’ve thrown. I’m sure the Bernsteins will be appreciative.”

Bruce hums, eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…”

The man startles and rushes to finish off his sentence, “Alexander Watson, senior executive to the accounting department for the research wing of the company.”

He nods slowly, no recognition actually present in his eyes. “Ah. The research wing of the company that just blew fifteen million dollars on prototype self-operating cell phones.”

You’re trying hard to fight the smile creeping up on your face.

“What exactly is a self-operating cell phone?”

Watson’s face drops, hurrying to justify his approval of the proposal’s funding. As he rambles, Bruce’s gaze lowers to where Watson has once again placed his hand on your hip, though he’s not close enough to you for it to rest fully or naturally. You don’t know him well but you can say confidently that he doesn’t look pleased.

He looks back up to Watson, attitude challenging. “Surely you’re not poking around where you’re unwelcome?”

Watson stutters at that, blinking and shaking his head quickly. “No, no, of course not! I was just hoping to provide the young lady with some company. That’s all.”

“And so you have.”

“I—,” about two steps behind in this conversation, Watson finally decides to retreat, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Wayne.” He bows his head and shuffles away back into the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” you smile knowingly, turning to him. “How are you?”

The hardness of his gaze fades quickly as he takes in your appearance, quite liking how you wear the dress you’d picked out.

“Things are looking up,” he smiles, “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” you glance over to where Watson has made his way to the bar, likely about to down an entire glass. “Mr., uh, Mr. Watson makes quite the impression.”

His smile turns a bit sullen, “You know last year he tried to convince the board that battery-powered battery chargers were going to be the next big thing?”

You blink, tilting your head, “Thought you didn’t know who he was.”

His eyes are fixed on the wall as he tugs the corner of his lip down, knowing he’s been caught but not really caring. “I’m sorry to have been away for so long, it seems everyone needs my attention at these things.”

“At the gala that you threw? I’d imagine so.”

He rolls past that smoothly, “You’re having a good time?”

“I am,” you say with a confirming head bob.

He regards the room with a numb expression, “You know, I think I’m getting bored with all of this.”

You smile at him, brow furrowed, “It’s only been an hour.”

He looks at you, eyes wide. “It’s only been an hour?” He’s exaggerating his surprise to make you smile, and it works.

“I think we should go,” he says lower.

You stare at him, bemused. “You still have a whole room full of guests.”

He shrugs, “They’ll filter out on their own eventually.”

He clocks your hesitation easily, accurately noting it to be more out of politeness than actually wanting to stay at the party. “What, you’re not ready to leave?”

You look around at all the mostly old, posh guests, disinterested small talk evident all across the room. You take a breath, “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

He smiles and leads you out a side door and through a corridor that’s significantly longer than you’d expected.

“Do you always ditch your parties this early?” you ask, following closely.

He makes a sharp right at the next doorway, “If I can manage it.”

You look around at the high wooden ceilings and grand furniture. “Aren’t some of them friends of yours?”

He shakes his head, “My friends aren’t here.”

You frown at that, “Then why do you throw them at all?”

“Why did you show up last weekend?”

You nod slowly, understanding. “It’s your job.”

He returns the nod, adding, “Only difference is, there’s not a chance in hell you get paid enough for the work you do for Mullins.”

For the sake of maintaining your wishful facade of professionalism, you’re going to not acknowledge that incredibly accurate statement. Instead you smile politely and continue on walking. He seems to get the implication, returning it with an even brighter adornment.

“Well, money’s money,” you say wryly.

His smile fades a bit, “You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.”

You shrug, “A day in the life,”

He looks sullen upon hearing that, with more sympathy than you’d have expected from someone of his stature. He’s done nothing if not surprise you, though.

“Here,” he says, taking hold of the handle of a glass door. It opens to a garden, lit up beautifully by the moon and outdoor light. A fountain sits in the middle, water rhythmically gushing out of the top and trickling down the sides. The bite of the Gotham night air burns at your cheeks a bit and you find yourself thankful the dress you’d chosen is so long.

Bruce leads the way to an expensive marble bench positioned nicely in front of it, allowing you to sit first before following suit. Your hands find a place in your lap, clasped together awkwardly in an attempt to find warmth through contact.

It takes Bruce less than ten seconds to stand, remove his suit jacket, and drape it over your shoulders before sitting back down. The material is thicker and warmer than you would’ve expected, surely reminiscent of the perks of being owned by a billionaire.

He doesn’t look at you to acknowledge the grateful expression on your face, simply carrying on like it didn’t happen. “Was hoping it was warmer,” he murmurs.

Your focus momentarily goes to the icy cold stone of the bench under your thighs, initially finding it uncomfortable before deciding the coolness actually felt quite soothing. You remove your gaze from the gray stone and turn your head to find Bruce already focused on you.

You start to say something, though you’re not sure what it would’ve been, when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down.

Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

His eyes stay on your lower lip as he murmurs, “You’re a pretty girl, you know that?”

God, he’s a professional.

You look up at him and refrain from saying anything, waiting to see if he follows it up with something that will make you regret agreeing to coming out here with him.

He doesn’t.

You shift, moving your hands off your lap to rest on the stone under you. “You can’t just do this—”

He smiles and lowers his chin to look you in the eyes, “Then what can I do for you?”

“You—” you blink rapidly, “Stop it.”

His coy beam persists, “Stop what?”

You raise your gaze up to him ever so slightly, a pouty expression across your face that you’re trying to sell as serious. “You’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous?” He tilts his head down further, a ghost of a smile echoing on his lips, “I don’t mean to, sweet girl.”

Your eyes drop to the ground, biting your tongue. “Yeah.”

His simper grows, “I’m serious. I’d hate to scare away a new friend.”

You laugh at that and he perks up a bit at the sound, “What? We’re not friends?”

You cock your head to the side, “You’re the one who said none of your friends are here.”

He hums, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“You think so?” You should probably stop flirting so much.

“Yeah,” he leans in a bit closer, “I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” his hand finds a place atop yours.

Your eyes flicker across his face as he closes in, “What if I don’t want to be yours?”

His eyes are on your lips, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

You take a slow deep breath, “Your intentions are blurry.”

He smiles lightly, amused. “We’ll have to clear that up then, won’t we?” His lips are inches away and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You look up at him eyes wide, barely processing his words as you nod. He gently grasps your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up. His other hand finds the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you with intention. Your hands hover in the air for a second before holding onto his forearms.

He breaks the kiss only to give you another sweet one right after. Your mouths remain close when it’s over, eyes still shut, trying to catch your breath. You stay like that for a moment until he kisses you once more on your cheekbone before pulling away. His hands drop to rest on your knees, the weight of them gentle.

He hums lowly, “Sweet thing..”

Being under the heaviness of his gaze leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s starting to get you concerned with the potential levity and implications of kissing him. The expectations.

“You…” you stare down at where his hands meet your skin, not quite sure that you actually meant to start that sentence.

“What?” he frowns, brow pinched. Your chin lowers further as your mouth forms a tight line. He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. What is it?” he asks gently.

It takes a surge of willpower for you to get the sentence out, “You just want to sleep with me..”

He frowns harder at that, pulling back a bit. “No. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m not trying to lure you in just to toss you out right after.”

That makes you look up again. His voice has a sincerity to it that you weren’t prepared for.

He continues, “I would like to, yes. Yeah. You’re beautiful, of course I would, but..” he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you, “No, that’s not the most important thing to me.”

You break eye contact again, thinking over his words. If that’s not the most important thing to him, what is? You can’t think of what else he could possibly want from you, a billionaire who could have anything he wants..the only thing you could have to offer in his eyes is sex.

Right?

He exhales, “If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car. No hard feelings.” He nudges your chin up gently so you’ll look at him, but he gives you the freedom to fight against it if you wanted to.

You let him move you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he says it like it’s automatic. You physically can’t help but roll your eyes at the corniness of it. He doubles down, though, “Seriously. Anything.”

You smile in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Alright,” he returns your smile, straightening, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you need a ride home?”

You blink at him, “I’m going home?”

“You are,” he nods softly, “Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

He nods again, more like he’s working through something in his head. “Okay. You’re going to go home and think through what you want. If you decide you want to, come back here next Saturday.” he stands up, extending his hand out to you, “Then you can let me know what else you want and we can get to work on that too.”

You start to shake your head, “I can—”

He drops his chin seriously, “Think on it.”

You relent easily, taking his hand and coming to a stand.

“Alright?” Again, his question is genuine. He does really want to know if you’re on board with this plan.

Already going against his request, you agree without a thought, “Okay.”

He starts to lead you back over to the garden door with a head nod and a kind smile.

It ultimately was not a decision you had to think very hard on.

You’d considered every scenario of how this could play out and none of them ended with regret as far as you could guess.

You’ll still admit though, there was one scenario you had missed, apparently, which is why you were immeasurably confused when you showed up and he invited you to play chess.

He’s not wearing a fancy three piece suit this time, but his clothes are still very nice. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, you’re able to see the manor more clearly than you had been the other night. It really is a beautiful home, clearly very old and charmed, but there’s a lot of little details of character and history scattered around. There’s portraits and photographs of his parents from when he was young and furniture decorated with trinkets all throughout, kept absolutely spotless and dust free. Everything is neat and tidy but there’s still traces of the house being lived in with the patched throw pillows and worn carpets. Still, it’s very, very placid.

You’ve met new money plenty of times over the course of dealing with countless businessmen for Mr. Mullins but old money is something entirely different. You don’t really have a frame of reference here. New money is almost always brash and demanding, they like things done quickly and correctly the first time around. They’re usually not very interested in hearing what you have to say (even if it would save them a lot of trouble) and prefer it when the assistants women keep their mouths shut. Bruce has proven to be very different from these standards already and you’re not sure where to begin with placing new ones.

You’re about halfway through a second game, and while you’re not awful at chess, you get the impression that he’s easing up on you considerably.

You sit on the floor in front of a short coffee table, the game having no clear lead so far.

“I think this is stressing me,” you mumble, no actual weight behind your words.

“It’s just chess,” he says, not looking up from the board.

You watch him move his knight forward as you ask, “And that’s all we’re doing?”

“As it stands, yes,” he looks up at you, though you don’t return his gaze.

“Yeah,” you sigh, sliding your rook, “But later?”

“Later?”

“Well, you said...” you meet his eyes, “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

He nods slowly, “I do. Is that alright?”

You consider it for a moment. You already knew that, if you really weren’t okay with it you wouldn’t have come here. And yeah, the idea makes you a little shaky, but in a good way.

“Yes,” you tell him, moving your queen forward two spaces.

“Are you sure?” he presses, moving to sit on the side of the table rather than behind it.

You do the same, sitting on your knees. “Yeah, I just..” you shift your weight, eyes wandering. “I’m not…overly experienced.”

He just smiles at that, like it’s endearing. Your words didn’t quite convey your meaning but your tone did. In any case, he understands the implication. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not going to throw you in the deep end.”

You nod, looking down again.

“You’re nervous,” he comments.

“No, I’m—I mean, maybe,” your voice is barely a murmur by the end of the sentence.

He’s quiet for a moment, observing the way you fiddle with your rings. “What if we get you something pretty to wear? Something that makes you feel pretty. Whatever you want.”

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, opening and pulling out a lump of cash without even looking. He holds the money out to you wordlessly and you can see from the bill on the outside that it’s at least a couple hundred dollars.

You shake your head instantly, “I can’t take that.”

He doesn’t put the money down but his eyes turn to begging. “Please. I just want you to feel good.”

“Bruce—”

He wavers a bit at that but it’s more of a falter than you’ve seen from him before so it’s easy to take notice of. “What?”

He shrugs barely, “I like when you say my name.”

Your eye contact holds for a moment and your resolve starts to shake almost instantly.

You exhale, “I’m not taking more than a hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Bruce.”

He smiles and picks out some of the cash and pockets it, handing you the rest. You don’t comment on the fact that it’s a hundred and fifty more than you’d agreed on.

You look down at the money in your hand like it’s a foreign object, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to get.”

His thumbs start to rub reassuring circles by the bend of your knees, “Anything you want,” he tells you. “What do you like? Silk, lace, cotton, anything.”

You look up, tilting your head at him with a furrowed brow. “It doesn’t matter what I like, th—”

“It only matters what you like,” He says seriously, lowering himself to meet your gaze. “I’ll love it, no matter what you pick. Don’t worry about that.”

You lean forward a bit instinctually, “Okay.”

His eyes scan across your face in something that you can only recognize as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, voice even quieter.

Your eyes go to his mouth and you can only manage a nod, lips already parted.

He moves forward not a second later, kissing you with more fire than you’d gotten to see the other night. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing lightly as you hook one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

You hear the clatter of chess pieces falling over as he moves nearer to you, large frame leaning over you. You push up on your knees, meeting his lips up at his level. His hands caress around your hips as the kiss gets deeper.

You just start to fumble with the hem of his shirt when he takes your hands in his, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he smiles, nudging you back with little force.

You groan, “Why?”

He barks out a laugh at that, stroking your hips again. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on the floor.”

“Then let's go somewhere else,” you nod up towards the stairs.

He shakes his head, that soft smile still playing on his lips. “Not tonight.”

You sit back on your heels again, frowning.

He brushes your hair back, murmuring, “No. But for now, I'll kiss you ‘til you can’t think if that’s what you want.”

You really hope you didn’t perk up at that as much as you think you did.

🌾🌽 i heard a rumor that if you like without reblogging your crops will be cursed but hey what do i know 🌾🌽

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