#i mean i tried before but it was all turning out like trash so. even this mysty doodle was hot garbage so

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 12

Series Masterlist

➪in which you ask for space, and bradley reluctantly gives it to you, but that doesn’t stop him from sending one last (and kind of desperate) text.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The second Bradley saw you, his entire body tensed up, because he knew what this looked like. His ex was damn near naked in his bed, and he had just left the bathroom and looked like he just woke up.

Of fucking course it looked bad. 

But nothing happened, and he knew that, but you did not. And you didn’t even give him the chance to say that before you were turning around and practically running out his bedroom door. “Baby,” he called after you and was instantly crossing the room as he glared at Briana. “Get the fuck up and go, alright? I mean it.” Was all he said to her before he quickly followed after you. 

You were smaller than him, and probably pissed off beyond words, so you were a lot faster than normal. When he passed through his doorframe, you were already out the front door, and he had to run down the stairs to be able to catch up with you. 

“Y/n!” He called your name, but you weren’t answering him. You bolted down the front steps and began speed walking down the sidewalk, and Bradley briefly wondered how you could possibly move that fast with such short legs since he was having a hard time closing the distance. 

Just as you reached out and tossed the takeout bag you were holding into the trash can, he was finally given the chance to reach out to you.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip gentle but firm as he turned you to face him. “Please, please, listen to me okay? Please, what you saw, that was-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Bradley,” you cut him off and pulled your hand away from him so quickly, he didn’t have time to tighten his grip before you broke the contact. “I don’t, alright? Just…please.”

Bradley furrowed his brows and shook his head. He needed to make it known that what you saw wasn’t at all what it looked like, even though that was the oldest excuse in the oldest fucking book on earth. “No, baby, just listen, please,”

“I don’t want to,” you quickly say and step away from him. “I just saw your ex in your bed, Bradley. I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now, okay?”

Your words hurt him more than he thought they would, but he still didn’t let you get too far before he was trying to close the distance again. You were the best thing in his life right now, the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up because of a misunderstanding. “Babes, just stop for a second, okay?” He begged, trying and failing to get you to meet his eyes. “It isn’t what it looks like, alright? And I know, I know, everyone says that, but I mean it.”

“Bradley, please,” you said quietly and he didn’t even need to see your eyes to know that you were crying, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the entire world right now. “Let’s not do this, please. I think…I think maybe we rushed into this.”

That literally left him speechless, because to him it couldn’t be further from the truth. Maybe he rushed into it at the beginning, but everything felt like it was going at the perfect pace to him. And he knew it was the same for you, he could tell. You were lying to him right now in an attempt to protect yourself from him, and that left him with the worst feeling settling in his bones. 

“Y/n, please,” he tried again but you just shook your head. 

“Maybe you’re not fully over Briana, and…and maybe I’m not over Luke. Why else would your ex be in your bed, Bradley? Maybe we just need some time away from each other to figure things out,” you whispered and wiped your eyes. “Can you give me that? Please?”

He didn’t want to give you that. Fuck, he really did not want to give you that. He wanted to beg you some more and fully explain what you saw in his bedroom, but the look you were giving him told him that you were so close to breaking down, and he didn’t want to push you to that point. 

So he nodded slowly, his hand aching to reach out and grab yours as he asked, “Can I call you later? Or…or text you?”

You looked up at him and finally let him see your pretty eyes, then your gaze drifted behind him, and his heart fell even more. He didn’t need to turn around to know what you were looking at as you shook your head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

Then you were turning away and fleeing down the sidewalk towards the other side of campus before he could get another word out. “I’m sorry,” he called out pathetically after you, but you ignored him until you were out of his sight. 

Bradley turned and saw Briana swaying on her feet on the steps of his house, her shirt and skirt back on and her heels in her hand. “She ran off quickly,” she laughed as she stumbled onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t even get to formally introduce myself.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed past her as he stepped back into his house and went to slam the door behind him, but her hand stopped it from fully closing.

“Wait, aren’t you going to drive me back to that frat house so I can find my bag?” She asked as if she didn’t just single handedly ruin his relationship with you. 

Bradley’s gaze hardened as he glared at her. “Why the fuck,” he started and she quickly stepped away before he could finish his question and began walking down the sidewalk, not even bothering to put her heels back on.  

“Alright, Brad,” she laughed again, winking back at him. “But since you’re single again, maybe you and I can reconnect and-”

Bradley didn’t even want to hear the rest of that as he slammed the door shut behind him and went back up to his room. Briana had left his sheets sprawled all over his bed, and her mascara was on his pillow, and he wished he could go back to Saturday night when you and he were so fucking happy.

When he stepped forward, his foot touched something soft, and he looked down to see his jersey on the floor, right where you had dropped it before running out of his room. He reached for it, and when he lifted it up, a wave of coconut and rose filled his senses, the same exact scent his bed smelled like before Briana tainted it with the stench of booze.

Now he was miserable as he plugged his phone in and tore apart his bedding, shoving the alcohol smelling sheets into the washing machine down the hall. When he got back to his room, he fell onto his bed that no longer smelled like you, and grabbed his still charging phone. The single text that was sent nearly forty minutes ago made him feel even worse. 

Babes🩷: I miss you, flyboy. Breakfast? On me 😚❤️ 

-

You were a mess when you got back to your dorm.

Your eyes were sore from holding back the tears in public, but as soon as you entered your house, they poured down your face

You felt so stupid and embarrassed. Briana was fucking stunning, you knew that from all the photos you deleted of her on Bradley’s phone as he went down on you. At the time, that was one of the hottest experiences of your life, but now you just felt fucking dumb.

She was beautiful, of course she managed to push her way back into Bradley’s heart and bed as soon as you left. 

You were literally speechless as you leaned back against the door, and the sound of footsteps coming down the hall made you cringe, because you knew Sam was going to have a field day with this one. “Hey,” she said flatly as she crossed her arms. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Not now, Sam,” you mumbled, wiping at your ruined makeup as you crossed the living room in an attempt to hide in your room until you had to go to class. 

Of course that wasn’t going to happen as Sam reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey,” she said again, turning you to face her. “What happened? Wait, let me guess.”

She almost sounded excited now and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt another wave of embarrassment wash over you, because you were about to get brutally ripped into. You defended Bradley when she called him a rebound, and you were so convinced that you had a real thing going on with him, and it totally blew up in your face. Oh yeah, she was going to have a fucking blast making fun of you about this. 

“Your ‘boyfriend’, aka your rebound, turned out to be just that. A rebound,” she started, pulling her hand away from you as she laughed. “And now you’re crying because you thought he was actually into you when all he wanted was an easy lay in a newly single girl.”

The words leaving her mouth were cruel and awful and had you questioning how she was ever your friend in the first place. She really hid this side of her well, you guessed. “Sam-”

“And to think you ended things with my brother, who was waiting for you to get your shit together and get back with him, only for you to dump him,” she let out another humorless laugh and crossed her arms. “And here you are, crying over the guy you chose over him, the one who never actually wanted you in the first place. Am I close with this?”

You sniffled and glared at your roommate as best as you could, but you probably just looked even more pathetic. “You know, Sam, you’re supposed to be my friend,” you say, your voice a bit hoarse from all the crying you’ve done since you got home. “You’re supposed to be comforting me and supporting me, but you’re just making me feel worse, and for what? Because I broke up with your brother months ago, and it only just clicked for you now? You’re fucking mean, Sam, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to this anymore.”

Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you just turned on your heel and speed walked down the hall until you reached your room, and you quickly opened then slammed the door as more tears fell down your face. 

After the sight you walked into at Bradley’s place, and now with your ex friend, you felt exhausted and worn out, despite it only being nine thirty in the morning. Sam pissed you off, and you wondered if this was how Bradley felt after Eli’s interruption of your heated makeout session on the couch. And then you started thinking about Bradley again and how happy you were yesterday. And now you were sobbing harder.

You dropped your school bag onto the floor before stepping further into your room, and soon enough, your eyes landed on Bradley’s flannel he gave you the day after he asked you to be his girlfriend. 

You knew you should throw it out the window or maybe set it on fire, but instead you walked over to it and ran your fingers over the blue and white fabric. The first time you saw the shirt was when he was wearing it as he made you dinner, then asked you to be official. Then you asked him to bring it to you the next day so you could keep it, and you shamelessly wore it around your room pretty often. 

It still smelled like him when you brought it up to your nose, and you felt like you were going to be sick as a swarm of emotions hit you hard. 

Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Longing. 

You already missed him, even though it was clear he didn’t miss you.

You hadn’t even been away from him for more than sixteen hours before he had another girl in his fucking bed, his ex no less, and you wondered how many others there were that you were so blind to. 

Thinking that Bradley had a handful of girls coming over to his place after you left was a hard thing to think about, and you really wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. He was so sweet to you, made you feel adored and seen. He was the best boyfriend you had ever had, even though it was short lived. You didn’t want to believe that he was actually a terrible guy. The person you saw when you were with him wasn’t like that, but what choice did you have after seeing what you did?

He didn’t even try to get you to stay with him, even though you practically begged him to leave you alone. But still, you were hurt. 

Your mind was filled with the worst thoughts, and you forced yourself to believe that the only reason he sounded so upset was because he was caught, not because it was one massive misunderstanding. 

-

Bradley was pretty much useless in class as he stared at the wall the whole time.

He was pissed off at Briana and himself for not fighting harder for you on the sidewalk this morning, but you were so sad and certain, he didn’t want to make you feel even worse. So he stupidly and regretfully let you walk away without even mentioning the fact that he did not sleep with his ex, let alone intentionally allow her to spend the night in his bed. 

He wanted to spam you with texts, but you asked him for space, and even though he didn’t want any space from you, he respected you too much to go out of his way to deny your wishes. 

You wanted a break, or a full on break up, and he didn’t want that at all. You already meant so much to him in such a short amount of time, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to get over you for a long time if you were to clarify that you and he were no longer together. You hadn’t said that yet, but he had a strong feeling that it was coming soon.  

He didn’t want to break up. The weeks he’s spent with you have been the best he’s ever had since starting University, and he didn’t want to give that up. It was too soon, he hadn’t had you for nearly as long as he wanted to. It was too soon. 

Once class was over, Bradley was walking back to his place when Eli and Wes spotted him across the campus and began making their way over. “Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes tightly as he stopped walking and waited for them to reach him. “What?”

“Ouch,” Eli laughed, nudging Bradley’s side in a way that made Bradley want to rip his arm off. “Rude way to greet your friends, dude.”

“Yeah, man, lighten up,” Wes agreed. “What’s up with you?”

Bradley huffed and rubbed at his eyes before letting his arm drop down to his side. “Y/n and I got into something today,” he answered as simply as he could, because he didn’t want either of these guys knowing his business.

“Damn,” Eli mumbled, “And here I thought you two looked inseparable this weekend.”

Wes furrowed his brows and looked between Eli and Bradley. “Wait what?”

“Yeah, dude,” Eli laughed again. “That chick was all over our boy here, and he was pretty much all over her, too. What happened, Brad?” He asked once he looked back at Bradley. 

He was not about to tell them about Briana, but he didn’t need to, because a fourth guy joined in on the conversation, and Bradley briefly remembered him from the night at the party he met you at. What was his name? Jackson? “Hey,” the guy grunted as he stepped into Bradley’s space. “You just had to take her back, huh?”

Bradley furrowed his brows as he looked at the guy whose name he couldn’t remember. “What?”

“Briana,” the guy said, and it clicked. This was Jensen, the dude Briana was all over in the kitchen at the party. The dude who helped motivate Bradley to make that dumb fucking bet. “I asked her to come over last night, but she told me she was going to see you. Said she was going to get you back or some shit.”

Eli and Wes, of course, perked up at that, but Bradley was confused. “What?” he asked again, gripping his bag strap as he looked at Jensen. “Briana was at a party last night.”

“Yeah, and she said you were there with her,” Jensen scoffed as he pushed his finger against Bradley’s chest. “You already had her, man, you couldn’t let me try her out? You just had to get back with her, huh?”

Eli let out a low whistle as Bradley shook his head, even more confused now. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t get back with her, dude, I already have a girlfriend,”

“Had,” Wes corrected and Bradley glared at him before turning back to Jensen and pushing his hand away. 

“I didn’t get back with her, alright? I picked her up from a party and let her crash at my place. That’s it,” he said and held his bag strap a bit tighter. “I don’t know what exactly she told you, but I’m not interested in her anymore, okay? We’re done.”

Jensen gave him a look that showed his disbelief, but Bradley honestly didn’t care about this conversation anymore. He just wanted to go back home, maybe send you a quick text, and finish making his bed so he can lie in it for the rest of the day. 

“Look, she’s all yours,” he mumbled. “Though you might want to rethink the way you talk about girls. It’s probably why she dumped you.”

Eli snickered then he and Wes quickly followed after Bradley as he walked away from Briana’s other ex. “Dude, you didn’t tell me Bri slept over last night,”

“Yeah,” Wes chimed in. “Looks like we owe you some money.”

“No, you don’t,” Bradley quickly said and stopped walking to turn and face the two. “How many times do I have to tell you that the bet is off, and how it was never really on in the first place? Y/n and I are…fine, okay? We’re gonna work things out.”

“Uh huh, that’s what you said about Bri,” Eli grunted, then quickly put his hands up when Bradley gave him a look of warning. “Anyway, party tomorrow? I have a guy coming over to deliver a bunch of beer.”

A party on a Tuesday night? What the hell was wrong with these guys?

Before Bradley could turn down the idea, Eli added, “You can invite Bri,” he grinned with a raise of his brows. “Maybe you two can get back together for real.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed, “Really piss off that fucking guy back there.” He gestured towards Jensen, but Bradley was already forming an idea in his head.

Maybe the party was a good idea…but not because he wanted to invite Briana, fuck that…but maybe you’d come? You came to his last one, even though you got ditched early on, you told him that he saved you that night by coming up and talking to you.  

Yeah, you were very clearly pissed at him right now, rightfully so, but there’s a possibility you may come, and Bradley would be fucking dumb to not take it. He hoped you would see it as an opportunity to scream at him for doing something that he didn’t actually do, then he could bring up the fact that you’re completely out of your mind if you think he would ever cheat on you. Let alone with Briana fucking Prescot. 

So Bradley walked home with Eli and Wes, and he immediately went up to his room. He tossed his bag onto the bed and pulled out his phone, clicking on your contact. After looking at the cute picture he set for you that was taken the same night he asked you to be his girlfriend, he began typing out a text, and he hoped he didn’t sound too desperate, but he kind of was.

[amyrahrose]

Content warning: Sukunaxreader smut, penetration, multiple positions, dominant Sukuna! , unprotected sex (Wrap it up!), pet names, Sexual theme, Adult theme, talking her through it, although it is sometimes not mentioned <READER IS BLACK FEMALE CODED>, BUT ALL ARE WELCOME TO ENJOY! ❤️

Authur's Note→ 18 and Under, GET TA STEPPIN! I know for sure this will be broken into parts, however I'm not sure how many parts will be to this. I just decided to get back into writing little dabbles here and there so I'm honestly just testing the waters with this. Slightly proofread (English is my first language, but even the baddest of Bitches still make mistakes! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) ) I do hope you guys enjoy! 🤎

Synopsis: You’ve decided that you would begin your fitness journey. Accompanying your best friend, today’s the day where you’ll being taking working out and going to the gym seriously (well kind of). Lacking motivation and ready to go back home to lounge around to watch some TV and pig out, that all changes when suddenly you meet this drop dead gorgeous as hell man. Will he be the inspiration you need to continue your new lifestyle?

Part 1 found here →→ GYM RAT: PART 1

w.c» 2.1 K

It was Tuesday night, and you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment bedroom, forgetting that you had Jade on Facetime to help you pick an workout outfit to wear to the gym with Sukuna tomorrow. 

“Girl I don’t know why you’re stressing over an outfit, ya’ll going to the gym not Ruth’s Chris.” Jade rolled her eyes at you jokingly. She thought it was cute how you were trying to make sure you were prepared for your gym date with Sukuna, but she also knew how bad you can overthink things, causing you to freak-out and panic. 

“I know, I know but I still want to look like I’ve been to the gym before.” You stated back desperately. You know it sounds silly, but you wanted to make a good impression, even if it was just a workout session. 

“Honestly Y/n, I swear you set unrealistic goals. You could show up in a trash bag and that man would still be into you.” Jade tried convincing you but to no avail. You were dead set on having the perfect workout attire to flaunt in for Sukuna. 

“Well what about this, oh no wait what about this one?” You had two different sets in both of your hands, shoving one after the other in-front of the screen for Jade to critique. 

Realizing that nothing she was saying was going to help the situation she caved in and took a good look at both outfits. The first was a high-waisted leggings and sport bra set in a rich, deep brown color and the other was an all into one, low cut design with a low scoop back and cross-body straps in all black. Remembering how Sukuna was looking at you as if he was going to devour you, she figured the later would surely set him over the edge. 

“Let’s go with the all black, give my man something to work with.” Jade cackled out while wiggling her eyebrows up and down at you. You laughed nervously because you knew she was going to pick that one. To be honest, you wasn’t sure why you grabbed that one in the first place when you set out to go to your local department store shopping for gym attire. When you seen it you knew it was something that was going to turn heads and demand attention, more importantly Sukuna’s attention, prompting you to hurry up and toss it inside your shopping cart before deciding against it. But now you wish you did change your mind. You knew you could pull it off, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you would be coming off too strong, or desperate, by wearing it. 

“You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you. You’re going to look amazing in it Y/n. You’ll definitely get worked out- uh I mean get a good work out in it.” Jade said quickly before you caught her statement. Noticing you were still too wrapped up in choosing between the two outfits, she blew out a breathe of relief at you not catching what she said. That most definitely would’ve sent you in a frenzy and make you not want to go to the gym at all. 

“I know, but are you sure? Like really, really sure.” You asked again. You knew you were too much inside of your head about the matter, but you needed reassurance. Looking back up to Jade you caught the look she was giving you and knew she was about to give you a piece of her mind when all of a sudden you squealed in shock from the incoming call flashing on your screen. 

“Y/n what the hell is wrong with you?” Jade asked bewildered. She watched as you hurried and ran to your vanity looking over your appearance before rushing back to her wide eyed. 

“It’s him, he’s Face timing me!” You stated, looking back at Jade in shock. It took her a moment to figure out who it was you were talking about before she smiled devilishly and wiggled her eyebrows once more. 

“Well what are you doing still on the phone with me? Answer him! Oh and show him your choices for tomorrow and see what he thinks.” She proclaimed. Before you could argue, she hung up the call leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Shaking your head and exhaling out a deep breath, you answered Sukuna’s face time call with a small smile. 

“Heyyy you.” You answered shyly. You mentally slapped yourself for how you answered the call. 

“What am I, 12?” You thought to yourself. 

Sukuna’s deep laugh pulled you out of your head, making you look at him and his surroundings. He was obviously at the gym, you heard the clanking of weights and the gym’s music in the background. He was staring back at you, looking like sex himself. His hair pushed back with sweat, making you just now notice how it was dyed pink, and a hue of pink across his cheeks signaling that he must have just wrapped up his workout session. 

“What’s up ma?” His raspy, deep voice sounded off into your phone’s speaker. The sound stirring up a feeling deep inside your stomach, making you want to record his voice to be played over and over. 

“Uh nothing much, I was just on the phone with Jade. You know, nothing too crazy.” You replied with a small smile. You kept your gaze transfixed on Sukuna, taking in his handsome features. 

“God this man is so fine.” 

“Mh, what was that mama?” He asked while he placed his phone down. He was now in the guy’s locker room, checking himself out in the mirror. 

“Shit”, you whispered to yourself, “Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” You answered, half stuck on the fact he heard you and also the new nickname he’d given you. Your brain was short fusing at the sight of him now peeling off his sweat drench compression shirt, revealing his abs to you once again. Your mouth watered at the sight while you unconsciously clenched your thighs together. If he pulled the stunt in-front of you tomorrow there was no way in hell you were going to make it through the workouts. 

“Oh yeah, what ya’ll were talking about?” Sukuna asked, trying to hold in his smirk. He most definitely heard your remarks and he knew exactly what he was doing by taking off his shirt, soaking up your reaction. He felt he dick come to life by the sight of you clenching your thighs together. How he wished he was over your place right now, seating comfortably in between them. 

“Well.. she was uh-she was helping me pick a outfit for tomorrow.” You answered quietly. You’re not sure why you gave out the information, thinking he might think you’re crazy for discussing something as ridiculous as that. 

“Oh yeah? Let me see what you came up with.” He replied while shuffling through his gym bag. 

Caught off-guard by his response, you were certain he would have just questioned why you would go to great lengths as that. You watched him for a little bit as he looked around in his gym back, thinking he must’ve have been joking until he turns around to look at you with his brows shot up in curiosity. 

“Well ma, you ‘gon show me what you got?” He asked with a chuckle. He found you cute with your shy girl expression. He turned back to his bag, finally finding his towel so he could prepare for his shower. 

You blew out a breath you didn’t even realizing you were holding and thought the hell with it, he was going to see you in it regardless, what’s the harm of you showing it to him now?

“Well okay, if you insist.” You said while holding up the gym set Jade picked out. You waited anxiously until Sukuna turned back around to gauge for his reaction. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine mam-” Sukuna stopped, sucking in a breathe. He took in the black set you had selected and fought with himself to keep in the low growl threatening to come out. Taking it in, he found it hard to keep out the thoughts of how your body would look in it. The way the front would hug your tits, or the way your sweat would be cascading down into the dips of your back, or how the way it would mold around your plump ass. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself while he was ahead, but it didn’t stop the rush of blood going to his dick, making his gym shorts uncomfortably tight. 

“So- what do you think?” You asked timidly, you were still too wrapped up in overthinking your outfit choice you didn’t catch the internal battle Sukuna was having with himself over it. 

Trying to be nonchalant about it, he shook his head slightly while offering a small smile. 

“I think it’s good Y/n, whatever you’re comfortable in, that’s all that matters.” He said in a low tone. You looked at him curiously, wondering why the sudden formal change. Not trying to let it get to you, you offered a small smile back at his input. 

“Okay, if you say so.” You replied back. There was a beat of silence between you to before you let out a giggle at how intense he was staring at you. 

“So you called just for me to look at you flex?” You asked, lightening the mood again. He blinked wide eyed before chuckling.

“Nah ma, just making sure you don’t flake on me tomorrow is all.” You sighed in relief at him going back to his nickname for you, helping quiet your nerves a little bit. 

You smiled at him while shaking your head no. 

“Nah, I’m locked in. I wouldn’t bail on you.” You respond back. That causes him to smirk before replying back. 

“Good, wouldn’t want a good outfit like that to go to waste.” He joked back, causing you to put your head down shyly. 

“Ha, nah we wouldn’t want that.” You giggled out. You looked up, catching him watching you with the same smirk etched on his face. 

“What?” You asked, having him watch you the way he was, was doing something to you. 

“Nothing ma, Ima see you tomorrow, alright?” He stated while throwing his towel over his shoulder. 

Shaking your head yes, you both said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. Placing your outfit back across your vanity, you plopped on-top of your bed still smiling like a fool at your phone. 

Sukuana’s POV

He groaned lowly as he placed his hands around his dick, slowly stroking it up and down. He tried desperately to get the thought of you out of his head as he took his shower, but nothing he did was working. Every time he tried to think of something else, his thoughts always came back to you. 

Drawing in a breath, he threw his head back as the water from the shower head caressed his skin and helped lubricate his motions as he picked up pace. Flashes of you entered his mind. Seeing how you would look in the gym outfit you flashed in-front him not to long ago or the way he imaged how you plush, thick lips would feel wrapped around his dick, or how well your pussy would mold around his dick as he thrusted relentlessly into your velvety walls. His thoughts ran wild with all the things he would do to you and with a flick of his wrist over his swollen tip it was all that it took to send him over the edge. 

“Y/n.” He moaned out, forgetting his surroundings but ultimately not caring if anyone heard. He continued with his lights strokes, watching as ropes of cum shot down the shower drain. 

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath as he tried to regulate his breathing back to normal. He could only hope he doesn’t act this way around you tomorrow or he wasn’t sure how things would end. 

Before he could stop himself, thoughts of you came rushing at him again and he silently cursed at himself as he felt his dick harden again. Knowing it wouldn’t go away on it’s own, he began to slowly stroke himself again to ease the relief. 

You were going to be the death of him. 

© 2024 Amyrahrose. Please do not translate, copy, plagiarize, or repost (sharing links is fine 🤎) without my permission. You will only find my entries/content on tumblr!

[happy74827]

Feels Like Home

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).

WC: 2453

Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.

[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.

And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

『••✎••』

You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.

You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.

You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.

Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.

So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.

And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.

But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.

He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.

That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.

"Thanks."

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.

You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?

You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.

You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.

The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.

Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.

You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.

"Hi!"

He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'

He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.

"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"

He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.

You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.

The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.

"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.

You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.

"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.

He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.

"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."

"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."

Here comes the awkward part, you thought.

You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."

You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.

Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."

You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.

You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.

"She said no,"

He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.

The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.

"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."

Oh, how you hated confrontations.

Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.

"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."

"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.

"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.

You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.

"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.

"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."

That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.

What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.

With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.

Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.

"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"

But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.

"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!

But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.

"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"

You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.

"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"

"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"

Uh, oh.

"Logan, don’t—"

It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.

"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."

The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."

His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.

So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.

"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."

"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"

"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"

You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.

The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.

"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"

He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.

You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.

And it didn't take long.

As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.

And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.

The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.

"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."

"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."

"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."

"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."

You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.

"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.

"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.

"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."

"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."

The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.

"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."

He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.

"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."

"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."

"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."

"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."

[rowarn]

HYBRID!AU PART 2

part one | part two | part three

(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!

cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho &lt;3

The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath. 

No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught. 

Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe. 

At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable. 

But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster. 

A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.

“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”

You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.

“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly. 

You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion. 

You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”

That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner. 

You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade. 

You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home. 

You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly. 

“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”

Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift! 

But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.

You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.

The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street. 

With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it. 

A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon. 

You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house. 

And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.

This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.

You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you. 

Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye. 

It starts to become lonely when he leaves.

You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows. 

Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet. 

You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.

Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon. 

Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him. 

Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself. 

You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met. 

But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark. 

With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.

The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next. 

A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell. 

Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon. 

One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”

The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist. 

He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.

Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side. 

You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.

“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”

“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”

The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”

The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”

When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”

“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.

Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”

Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”

“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”

You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.

The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in. 

You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”

“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”

You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure. 

He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”

“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.

“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”

You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.

“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”

He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it. 

“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.

“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”

You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.

But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore. 

It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.

Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably. 

And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint. 

He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work. 

You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.

You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest. 

“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”

“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home. 

You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.

Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.

Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.

But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.

do not modify or repost to third party sites. reblogs appreciated!

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

[prettyfastcars]

back to you | Mob!Lando

Summary: Weeks after your break up, you show up at his place to give him back the stuff he left behind at your apartment. But what was supposed to be a brief, quick interaction turns into something else… 

Themes: smut, explicit language, exes-to-lovers, fluff, daddy kink, mob!lando

He had already been alerted the moment your car pulled up to his property gates, so finding you at his doorstep was not too much of a surprise. 

But he pretended it was. “And what are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t ignore the bitterness in his voice. It was too obvious. Part of you knew you deserved it too. After all, you were the one who wanted to break up in the first place. You had no business being here again. 

“I came to drop your stuff. I’m moving into my new place and I found these.” You purposely avoided his eyes, choosing to look down at the box in your hands instead. But even then you could feel his burning stare on you. 

He didn’t say a single thing, he just opened the door wider and let you into his home. A home you’d lived in for months. It felt weird being back. You followed him from the foyer till into the living room area where you placed the box down on the closest surface you could find. 

Lando peeked into the box and scoffed, “So you came all this way just to give me my hoodies back?” 

You were quick to answer. “Well I didn’t want them in my new home.” 

He smirked when you finally looked up at him. “And you couldn’t just throw them in the trash?” 

You were quiet for a second or two. Of course you could’ve. But you were here solely for selfish purposes. You wanted to see him again. So you partially lied and said, “I’m just being polite, okay?” 

“Polite.” He repeated under his breath. 

Then he tilted his head to the side in that way which made him seem just a little unhinged. It only added to his overall dark look. Dark suit even this late in the evening, messy hair which looked like he had run his fingers through it too many times which means that he’d probably just gotten off a stressful phone call. 

“How was that date you went on last night?” He asked out of nowhere. 

Ah shit. Of course he knew. He had eyes all over this city. “You’re spying on me now?” You tried to stand your ground. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave you a bored look. Even then he looked handsome. Arrogant, and authoritative, but handsome. Even when he barely tried. “Answer me.” 

You got a little defensive, taking a step back and away from him as you said, “You have no right to ask me about my personal life.” 

“Oh?” He spoke, in a dangerously calm voice. You watched how he slowly walked towards where you stood. You instinctively took some slow steps back until you hit the wall. Lando stopped only when he was right in front of you. He took the liberty to cage you in between his arms, discreetly shoving his knee in between yours to keep you from moving. “I have no right?” He questioned, “And you think you have the right to just walk in and out of my life whenever you want?” 

You didn’t miss the annoyance in his voice. Bitter annoyance, and something else you couldn’t decipher. But his voice was doing things to your brain. Bringing back memories of the days when he used that tone with you right before taking you to bed. You argued, “I’m just here to give you back your things and–,” 

“That’s it?” He cut you off. Smirking as he pointed out, “Then why are you rubbing yourself against my thigh, huh?” 

You immediately stopped. And only then realised that you’d been shamelessly grinding against his thigh the moment he shoved it in between your legs. Like a desperate woman. Your face felt hot as you tried to avoid his eyes but it was impossible since he had you trapped between his body and the wall behind you. 

“Why’d you stop?” He teased. “Keep going.” Then leaned in closer to your ear and whispered, “Be honest to yourself at least. You came here to get fucked good, didn’t you?” 

“No.” You lied. 

He saw right through it. “No?” Then chuckled, and said, “That guy from last night, did he not make it good enough for you? Hmm? Did he not take care of you how you like it?” He spoke, pressing his leg in between yours even more, pressing up against your throbbing clit even through all the layers of clothing. 

You held back a moan and explained, “We didn’t sleep together. He dropped me home and that was it.” 

“I know that was it.” He cooed. “He’d be dead if he touched you.” He said it so casually. 

His words should’ve made you want to run away. You had no business here after all. You should leave. But did you want to? Absolutely not. And you didn’t move. Your breathing deepened, as did his. And suddenly you couldn’t look away from his stare. 

The memories came flooding in. His face was so close to yours, his mouth, those lips… 

“Please.” You caught yourself murmuring, your hands roaming slowly all over his clothed chest. From his abdomen to his broad shoulders, and back down. Fuck, you’d missed him. 

“Please what?” He barked. 

You nearly whined as you pressed your chest against his, seeking his touch, his warmth. “Please,” You whispered again against his neck, his warm skin driving you insane. 

“Hey,” He whispered softly, his hand coming up to grab your face by the chin, “Look at me.” When you finally looked at him he said, “You know I can give you what you want, babygirl. Just ask for it. Use that pretty mouth and tell daddy what you want. Anything you want, baby. You can have it.” 

You blinked slowly, your brain totally foggy with lust as you whispered, “I want you.” 

“Yeah?” He cooed. “You drove all this way for me?” 

You nodded, “Missed you so much,” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, yearning for his touch. 

“Poor baby,” He moved his mouth to the side so you couldn’t kiss him just yet. And he loved the way you whined at the denial. “Say it then. Say you want me back.” 

You obliged immediately, “I want you back. Please.” 

He chuckled. And the sound of it was like a warning. You knew you were in trouble then. 

“But didn’t you say I was too much?” He asked, throwing your own words back at you. Words you’d said to him that night you broke up with him and left this place, weeks ago. “Didn’t you say I was too controlling?” He leaned in to rub the tip of his nose along your throat, giving you goosebumps. “Too possessive? Too jealous?” He kissed his way up till he reached your mouth, whispering against your lips, “You said I was toxic, remember? That I was bad for you? And now you want me back?” He pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes. He was pissed. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, giving him your best pleading look. 

He mocked you, “Oh? You’re sorry?”

You nodded. “Please, Lando. I’ve missed you.” 

“Or did you just miss the way I fucked you?” 

Fine. You deserved that. But you gave him your best puppy dog look and he shook his head, looking away immediately because even he knew those were his weakness. He waited for a second before looking back at you and you were still giving him that look and he sighed in frustration, “No, no, no don’t give me that look.” He reasoned. “You did this. You did this to us. You said you wanted to break up. You said you needed space.” He accused you. 

Your hands tried pulling him closer, but he resisted. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered, pleading again. 

He scoffed, “It doesn’t work like that, you brat. If you’re truly sorry, you’re gonna have to show me just how sorry you are.” 

You found yourself on your knees in front of him shortly after. Him holding you by the back of your neck as he eased himself into your mouth, filling it with his cock. 

“This is where you belong, huh? This is my babygirl’s happy place, isn’t it?” 

You tried to nod, but couldn’t. He just smirked and pushed himself deeper into your mouth, pulling out and then back in again. 

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He asked, “You missed not having to use your little brain and instead just doing what I tell you? Hmm?”  

Damn it. You’d missed these little games. How easily he could make you forget that a whole world existed outside. How easily he could take control and give you just what you wanted and needed. 

You whined as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure, murmuring how good your mouth felt, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked like a god. And you couldn’t stop staring. 

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned as you quickened your pace. He thrust his hips forward gently into your mouth, and the sounds which escaped his lips made you squirm. You could feel the wetness gathering in your underwear. “Make me come, go on. Be a good girl, make daddy come. Show me how sorry you are.” 

You squirmed and clenched your thighs together at the sound of the desperation in his voice. Your short dress did nothing to hide your actions. And those words were all it took for you to suck on his cock until he came undone all over your tongue. 

He came with a moan and a sigh, closing his eyes and relishing the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. You swallowed all of him, licked him clean and stood back up. He smirked and wrapped his hand around your throat. 

“You did good, babygirl.” He murmured and finally pressed his mouth to yours as he walked you towards the nearest couch. 

He kissed you passionately, tongue pushing past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth as he pushed you down onto the couch and straddled your body. He hummed at the taste of him on your tongue, it was all too dirty, filthy, raw and it made you whimper and tremble against him. 

He slipped his hand under your dress and wasted no time in running his knuckles up and down your dripping cunt, touching you through the drenched underwear. He chuckled. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you?” his raspy voice whispered in your ear. “Drove all the way here under the excuse that you were returning my stuff back. I bet you had this whole thing planned in your pretty little head, huh? How you were gonna come here and seduce me, and give me that ‘fuck-me’ look with your pretty eyes. You knew I couldn’t possibly resist you, babygirl.” 

“Lando…” You whimpered as he pushed his fingers inside you, gently stroking your walls and stretching you out. You whined at his touch and threw your head back, and moaned. His grip around your throat tightened a little more and he growled when he felt your walls clench around his fingers. 

“Is this all you wanted?” He asked, and sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you so perfectly that you moaned out loud. You were dripping all over his hand and possibly the couch as well, but neither of you cared. “I had a long day at work, you know,” He whispered, kissing along your jaw softly, “I had to deal with all these stupid people. I almost punched a guy because he was pissing me off, then I came home for some peace and quiet, but you don’t care about all that, do you? Hmm?” He purposely slowed his fingers down to make you whine louder. “All you care about is getting fucked by me. All because those useless boys you go out on dates with don’t do it for you, do they?” 

You whined, unable to take the sweet torture any longer, desperately trying to grind against his hand. “Please,” You begged, looking up at him with those eyes again. 

He scoffed, pulled his fingers out of you but kept your legs spread apart beneath him so he could just watch how wet you were for him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t ask you to leave right now.” He leaned down, till his face was right above yours. “Do you know how pissed I was when I found out you’ve been going out on dates?” 

“It was one date!” You clarified. Not that it did much. He was just as pissed. So you added, in a bratty tone you were certain he hated. “Am I supposed to believe you haven’t been with anyone since I left?” 

That made him tighten his grip around your throat. “Say that again, I fucking dare you.” He hissed. Not knowing that it only turned you on even more. “Come on,” He urged, “Use that fucking tone again.” 

You were breathing heavily, and so was he. By now you could feel his erection pressing against your lower belly and it was torture. “Lando, please.” You begged again. 

“You never fucking learn, do you?” He held himself above you with one hand while the other rapidly undid his trousers. You helped him in lowering the zipper and lowering his underwear just enough so his cock was free, and hard. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it? Spoiled you too much.” 

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress bunching up around your hips as he slowly slid inside you. You were gasping and moaning as he did, hands holding on to his shoulders when he began moving in and out of you. It was all too familiar. His body moving against yours, the feeling of him inside you, his warm breath against your cheek, his weight on top of you. 

His thrusts were relentless. Angry even. “I fucking missed you too.” He murmured against your mouth. “Daddy missed this little cunt of yours, and this bratty mouth.” He fucked you hard, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. 

“Fuck,” You panted, squirming under him while he toyed with your breasts through the thin material of your dress. Your back arched in pleasure as his hands grabbed you wherever he could, holding you in place as much as he could while he pounded into you. You felt so full of his cock it was unbearably good.

“Your wet little cunt feels so good around me, babygirl…” he murmured, voice low and hazy in pleasure. He groaned as he felt your walls milking him and squeezing him just right. “So good…” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was overwhelming, the feeling of his warm body pressing down onto yours and the feeling of his cock ramming in and out of you, stretching you out deliciously, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Lando…” you moaned, your mind getting foggier and foggier with each passing second. He slammed in and out of you continuously, staring deep into your eyes. Tears fell out of your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. His stare was too intense. His touch was too hot. But you still wanted more of him. “Fuck, I love you.” You blurted out. 

Your thoughts were a mess. You didn’t notice the moment he frowned in surprise, or how he froze for like half a second before continuing. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place as he filled you up each time. 

He pushed his face into your neck out of habit. “Say that again, baby. I need to hear you say it again.” He spoke, speeding up even more. Lewd sounds coming from both of you as he fucked you. 

“I…” You gasped, “I love you.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah?” 

You nodded quickly. “And I’ll be good, I promise. Just… make me come. Please...” 

He pulled away to look down at you, gold chain hanging from his neck as he said, “Come for me, baby.” 

He slowed down a little, but fucked deeper into you. Just how you liked it. Slow, deep strokes. He held you stare the whole time. Until you came undone, gasping and whimpering with your walls clenching around him.  

A few strokes later, he came as well. Filling you up, and not even bothering to pull out before he collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breath. He nuzzled your neck like he always did. 

You were both dishevelled and in serious need of some warm towels to clean up but neither one of you made a move to get up. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, running your fingers through his now damp hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing but… I was miserable without you.” 

Lando was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I’m sorry too. I know I can be a lot to handle at times. I’ll work on that. I promise. Just don’t leave again.” 

“I won’t.” You said quickly. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll fix this.” 

“Good. We will.” 

Then a moment later you said, “You didn’t say it back.” 

“What?” He asked. 

“I said I loved you earlier, you didn’t say it back.” 

He chuckled. Genuinely this time, sounding like he hadn’t laughed in a long time. He pulled away to look down at you again. “I love you,” He said, then quietly added, “Brat.” Then leaned in for a proper kiss. 

[ddejavvu]

can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek’s asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket😭

Derek's brow is knitted in real, authentic concern when he corners Spencer in the BAU's kitchenette, and it turns Spencer's stomach. Usually, Derek has a teasing glimmer in his eyes, but it's scarily absent today, and he braces a large hand on Spencer's lanky bicep.

"Pretty boy," Derek starts, and his tone is soft, soothing, kind, "Anything you wanna talk about? I'm here if you need me, y'know."

Spencer tries feigning calm, which is terribly hard to do as someone who's fraught with nerves constantly, but he keeps an even tone when he speaks.

"I don't think so. Should I want to talk about something?"

Derek smiles sympathetically, almost a grimace, and Spencer feels a flash of fear run through him. Has Derek heard something about his mom?

"I don't think anyone else has noticed yet," Derek assures Spencer, "But I saw Y/N's not wearing her ring."

It's not what he'd been expecting, dreading, but it's not pleasant either. Spencer's eyes dart hurriedly to your hunched form, shoulders bent and crowding your desk as you devote yourself entirely to your paperwork. Sure enough, your wedding ring is absent from your finger, leaving an uncomfortably blank space on your skin, and Spencer's brows knit together.

"I didn't know," Spencer admits, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I- But- we aren't having any problems. I don't think."

Derek shoots that awful pitying grimace his way again, and Spencer shakes his head, his stringy hair flying.

"No, no- we're not- we're not having problems," He asserts, but he's not sure if he's trying to convince himself or Derek more, "I mean, we bickered about coffee this morning, but not- not marriage problems bad. She just forgot it."

Spencer knows what expression will be on Derek's face if he looks, so he doesn't. He busies himself with stirring the rest of the sugar into his coffee, excusing himself before Derek can press the issue even further.

On his way out of the kitchenette he snags a donut from an open box on the counter, slipping a napkin beneath it and trying not to rush to your desk. He doesn't want to seem obvious, but he's a flaming bundle of nerves.

"Angel," He gets right to the point, placing the donut beside your hand on the desk and leaning over the back of your chair. He nestles his cheek to yours, pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw and blocking your conversation from view of the bullpen with the way he shrouds you from behind.

"Spence," You begin, alarmed at the sudden ambush of sugar, both literally and figuratively, "What-?"

"Are you mad at me?" He asks, sounding rather like a child worrying to their parents. You're only more confused after his question, and you tentatively shake your head.

"No? Should I be?"

"I don't think so," Spencer hums, "But you're not wearing your ring."

You blink, glancing at your bare ring finger.

"Oh!" You gush, your shoulders pressing back against his own as you maneuver your hand into your pocket. It's difficult sitting down, but you retrieve the ring and jam it back onto your finger, "I took it off earlier because I was taking the trash out. I didn't want it to get all goopy, and I guess I just forgot it was in there." You let your explanation hang in the air for a moment, but your eyes flash with sympathy, remembering Spencer's initial question, "Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"It's okay," He breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, reluctant to straighten up from where he's hugging you from behind, "You didn't even freak me out. Morgan did."

You laugh, and the sound soothes those frayed nerves in his chest, the ones that had lit with sparks of panic at Morgan's pity, "Well, don't listen to Morgan from now on. However," You reach for the donut, tearing it in half and holding one end out to Spencer while you catch the other between your teeth, "If it means I get donuts in apology, maybe I'll forget my wedding ring in my pocket more often."

[churipu]

hi i wanted to ask since your requests are open but can u write abt jjk guys (gojo, geto and maybe megumi as well) and how it would be like arguing with them? thank youuu~

ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN ˚｡𖦹

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing on toji's :)

note. hi nonnie, megumi's been done and you can just click right there to be directed to the said post — so, i'm going to change him to his father jsksdjdk. anyways, i'm so sorry this came out so late, i hope you like it. i was going to focus on my 1k event but then i realized that i'm holding up the requests in my inbox, so i'm going to try to upload them together one by one. / and ngl, i just did my nails done for the first time, aND I AM STRUGGLING TO DO ANYTHING. including typing, but i'm trying my best skdjs.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with him are just plain loud. for instance, we all know how gojo is, he'd be so petty during arguments. despite that though — i feel like he won't ever raise his voice at you, he's petty, yes. but he won't do anything that could scare you, raising his voice.

believe me when i say that he won't back down when he isn't in the wrong. he will argue back if you're wrong; and even with all that banter, both you and gojo will always resolve it together. he won't let you leave or turn away to discard the argument. gojo hates it when you give him the silent treatment — so he tries his best to not let you leave unless everything is talked about, face to face.

"satoru, i'm just saying that i didn't mean to do that. okay? i didn't even realize it!" you tell him, voice loud and bold.

gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, "this is the second time y/n, i'm sure you realize that — you're not a child anymore." you grumbled under your breath.

the past few days have been stressful. hectic for you. you knew though it wasn't an excuse, but when things get too caught up — you lose track of things, and honestly, you wanted nothing to do but to sleep and take a rest. work has been taking a big toll on you, both mentally and physically — and you can't bring yourself to argue with gojo right now.

"satoru, i know. it's just, things have been stressful at work. i'm sorry i forgot to turn off the stove," you tell him genuinely sorry that you almost, possibly burn the whole house down if he hadn't been the one to realize that, "i'm sorry, okay?"

his gaze softened. regaining control over the rhythm of his breathing, gojo reaches out to you, "d'you wanna talk about it?"

you shook your head, "i just wan' to sleep, satoru. i'm tired." he buries his nose into your hair before tossing you over his shoulder, you didn't complain at the way he decided to carry you — you just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.

the male held you close as he climbed your shared bed, "'m sorry too," he mumbles, grazing his lips over your forehead.

"you don't have to be, it's my fault for being reckless," you replied, draping an arm over his torso, clutching his black shirt, "can we sleep now?"

gojo chuckles, "mhm. good night," he whispers, "i love you."

you smiled at him, burying your face into his chest, "good night 'toru. i love you more."

GETO SUGURU. arguments with geto can be pretty frustrating, although he never raises his voice at you. he just knows what to say, and he's always right too. whether it being about you forgetting to throw the trash out (once), or you being forgetful about some things — geto just knows the right words to say to you, without making you feel like you're doing something wrong.

see, the thing is in the house. you both divided your chores, geto does the dishes, and the mopping. you do the laundry and vacuuming. while the morning trash is yours, and he does it nightly.

he's usually never in the wrong. most of the time. but when he is, he will admit so. in conclusion, you don't argue with him often, because he will apologize if he knows he did something wrong. but this was on rare occasions.

today is one of those rare occasions. you swore you had left the house clean — and you remembered throwing the trash before you leave for work. yet, here he was, asking you about it.

"suguru, i promise i threw it in the morning. before i left for work," you tell him, taking off your shoes and putting it neatly on the shoe rack. having to come back home from work, you just wanted to eat dinner, have a nice warm bath, and sleep.

god, you hated arguments. you admitted that you sometimes forget to throw the trash out while rushing to go to work, but that was not intentional at all.

geto had asked your prior about it. you knew he wasn't sparking an argument, but the thing is — you remembered it well. going out of the door this morning while holding a plastic of waste, hell, you even remembered bumping into a neighbor on the way out.

"just . . . let me throw it out again—" geto has been awfully silent for the past few minutes, and when you approached the trash can, he immediately stops you.

his hand latching around your wrist gently as he pulls you over, "no, no. it's my fault, i remember now. i was the one who threw that in the trash can after you left," he said to you in an apologetic tone, "'m sorry."

you shook your head, "it's okay, it's just a misunderstanding. and it's not like you intentionally forgot about it, right?" he nods his head mutely, pulling you into a silent embrace, "y'okay sugu?"

"the next time i do that — i want you to smack me in the face, okay?" you chuckled, placing a wet kiss onto his lips.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i don't know how to say it — he's just accepts his fate and does whatever you want him to do. he thinks arguments are a complete waste of time, it's not like he likes arguing with you in the first place. he just doesn't see a point to it since he never initiates the talking; you always do. but that's because he did things that sparked the said argument. you reap what you sow.

toji can be lazy sometimes. scratch that. most of the time. clothes sprawled out in the living room, on the kitchen counter which he claimed he forgot when he was grabbing water, on the couch, on the headboard of your bed, on the bathroom sink. and honestly, he's a grown man — he knows better than that.

"toji, how many times do i have to tell you—"

"put the dirty laundry in their place, yeah, y'reminded me that like . . . three times today." he grumbled under his breath as he yawned out loudly.

"then why are you still leaving them everywhere? god, this is so childish! it's like 'm taking care of a fucking baby," toji lets out a sigh, "i'm so tired of telling you over and over again. you're a grown man, why can't you act like one?"

toji's not dumb. he knows it's his mistake, and sometimes he genuinely forgets about leaving his shirt out while being too preoccupied with other things. he loves you, he really does. the last thing he'd like is you leaving him because he can't stop his habit of leaving his shirt everywhere.

he approaches you, taking the shirt out of your grip, "my fault."

"damn right it is. the next time i see another shirt, i swear to god, you're sleeping on the couch." you muttered out, crossing your arms — watching as the male meekly trotted into the bathroom where the laundry basket rested beside the bathroom cabinet.

"is that a threat?" he chuckles, peeking his head out.

"no. it's a warning."

he walks out of the bathroom, slithering an arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. prepping you on his lap, "mm. noted, can you stop getting mad at me now?" he comments, grazing his finger over your neck.

and he did it again at night (and slept on the couch like you warned him, he still hates you for that).

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[saetoru]

tee you know what would he so funny and i keep thinking about? is if you were seen with one of the blue lock men’s friends or teammates, and then there’s a picture on the news like “y/n cheating on ___?” 💀 idk i just giggle into my hand at the idea

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BLUE LOCK + RUMORS THAT YOU’RE DATING SOMEBODY ELSE

✩ — characters ⋮ itoshi sae, mikage reo, shidou ryusei ✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationships, rather pouty and salty boys <3 ✩ — notes ⋮ nauurr this is actually so cute so i decided to turn them into kind of short drabbles w a few boys <3

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。ITOSHI SAE.

sae stares at his screen and blinks. you fight back a grin as he rereads the title, trying not to let out a small giggle.

“itoshi sae bested by little brother in love,” he reads blankly, and you almost think he doesn’t care if not for the way his hand clutches his phone a little tighter.

“sae, it’s not our fault, okay?” you chuckle, shuffling closer on the bed, wrapping yourself around him, “the paparazzi just caught us off guard. you know how they twist things for the headlines.” he does know—but still, he eyes you from the side before scrolling along the article and staring at more pictures of you and rin walking out of the convenience store.

“you went with rin? really?” he grumbles, eyeing a picture of you both laughing as you walk out the store. why is it so easy for rin to laugh at your jokes? more importantly, why is it so easy for you to laugh at his?

“well technically you were supposed to go with me, but you were being grumpy,” you huff, looking at him with raised brows.

it’s rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents together—and it’s never really been a priority for either of them with such an…estranged relationship. but this year’s a rare stroke of luck, and sae’s mother insists he brings you along with him for the ‘full family effect.’

except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gym—and you’re tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himself—how could you decline?

“i wasn’t being grumpy,” he says bitterly, “i was busy. it’s different.”

“well, me and rin had a blast,” you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, “as you can see.”

“shut up,” he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. it’s cute to see him like this—slightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesn’t care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.

“so? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?”

“i don’t know,” he rolls his eyes, “seems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.”

“not taking it well, huh,” you say amused—and finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “you know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.”

“oh trust me,” he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, “you’re not walking past that door without me next time.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MIKAGE REO.

reo is distraught.

“look at these comments,” he cries, shoving his phone in your face.

“reo,” you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, “it’ll blow over, don’t worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.”

“yeah but they’re completely trashing me,” he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, “‘you know you’re lame when even your money isn’t enough to keep someone?’ what does that even mean?”

“it means you’re losing your charm,” you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. he’s scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.

“you stay on your half,” he huffs, “i don’t want to sit with a cheater.”

“i didn’t cheat!” you snort, “we went to get snacks for you too—”

“yeah and you forgot them,” he glares.

“i said sorry!”

“well, it doesn’t help,” he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriend’s already painfully bruised ego.

“baby, you know you’re the only guy for me,” you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.

“i don’t know,” he grumbles, “clearly i’m not since you haven’t even defended me in these comments.”

“i’ll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,” you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like this—makes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but smile a little and lean into your touch.

“i’ll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,” you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.

“you better,” he mutters, “these people are ruthless.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SHIDOU RYUSEI.

shidou is a nightmare if you’ve ever met one—makes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that what’s his could be anyone else’s?

“what do you want for dinner?” you ask, sighing as he shrugs.

“oh, i don’t know,” he grins condescendingly, “why don’t you let your other boyfriend decide?”

“ryusei—”

“if i see him, he’s gonna be one with the concrete, i’ll tell you that.”

“don’t even think about getting into trouble. that’s your teammate,” you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, “we just saw each other at the store and said hi—”

“why did he need to say hi?” he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article that’s single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. “i should teach him a lesson—”

“you should do no such thing—”

“you know what? i don’t even care,” he says suddenly, and there’s too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.

“ryusei.” your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.

“yeah, babe?” he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.

“what are you—” and then there’s a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. “what did you do?” you narrow your eyes.

“nothing,” he shrugs, “just cleared the air.”

and if you were unsettled before, you’re certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

“what could you possibly—are you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?” you stare at the picture he’s posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows where—when did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you don’t even want to know.

“that’ll teach ‘em,” he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. “wanna recreate the picture?” he grins widely.

“no i want to delete the picture,” you grumble.

“not an option,” he says smugly, and then his lips are on yours—and even if he’s shaved ten years off your life, you think it’s at least a good thing that he’s back to his usual self.

i want to have a lil salty sae in my bed immediately.

[ceruleanchillin]

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.” 

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.” 

“Well…thank you for your service.” 

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard. 

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

[lowkeyremi]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS

basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)

Gojo

PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.

Yuji

I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.

Megumi

Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.

Geto

He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.

Toji

There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"

Nanami

He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.

A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"

"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."

Nobara

Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"

Maki

She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.

Inumaki

Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.

Shoko

She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."

Sukuna

Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."

Choso

He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Ghost (Logan Howlett x reader)

A/N: this is my first attempt at a fic in a while, so please just bear with me. This takes place after the events of Deadpool and Wolverine. I feel like I am not too great at writing Wade’s character and I think I’m still learning how to write Logan so just please don’t hate me if anything seems out of character. I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of thoughts of suicide, nothing else out of the ordinary for a Deadpool and Wolverine fic

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: What happens when the man who broke your heart shows up on your doorstep with a weird man claiming to be from another universe?

As you were tying your robe into place, the sound of glass shattering in the other room caught your attention.

“Fuck.” You muttered before hastily making your way down the hallway. “Nugs, what the hell are you doing in here?”

The overweight orange cat meowed loudly from where he sat on the floor. Directly beside him was a pile of dirt and the remnants of your favorite flower pot.

“Nugget! Dude, we have talked a million times about you trying to get up on that shelf.” You shooed the cat away from the mess, then went to retrieve a broom. “You are far too big to be trying to climb up there. You could get hurt.”

He meowed again and rubbed against your calf, offering his own version of an apology.

You swept the dirt and plant material into the dustpan. As you were making your way towards the trash can, a firm knock came at the front door.

Nugget started meowing loudly. It was almost like he was trying to imitate a siren and warn you that there was someone at the door.

Cautiously, you moved towards the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, sure, but you also knew absolutely no one in the city, so why would someone be knocking on your door at 11:30 on a Wednesday night?

You pulled the door open to see an unknown man. He wore a trucker hat with the words ‘this is actually my first rodeo’ stitched on to it. He was wearing a gray hoodie and jeans. The skin covering his face was scarred badly.

“Can I help you?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh my FUCK! You didn’t tell me we were coming to see Y/N!” The man turned around to reveal Logan Howlett.

Your heart jumped to your throat at the sight of him, and the very thought of breathing went right out the window.

He stood with his arms crossed. The dark red flannel he wore stretched over his muscles. It was like the shirt was two sizes too small for him. The jeans he wore were dark and fit him snug. His hair wasn’t as poofy as you remembered it being, but it was still styled and spiked just like he had always done.

As you took in the sight of the Wolverine, you realized he didn’t look as unkempt as you so vividly recalled him being the last time that you saw him.

“Uh, hi, Y/N.”

Hearing him say your name almost made you vomit right then and there. It had been years since you last heard him say your name.

You snapped out of your trance, the tension and nerves in your stomach twisting into anger.

“What the fuck do you want, Logan?”

”I know it’s a long shot, but we need somewhere to stay for the night.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. What made him think he had the right to ask you for anything?

You started to close the door but the man you didn’t know stopped you, placing his hand on the door.

“Hold on just a second, Y/N! We have some wild— and I mean wild —stories to tell you.”

”I don’t know you, fuck nuts.” You snapped. Your irises disappeared as the entire eye turned black. “Now if you two don’t get the hell away from my apartment—,”

”I know you don’t owe me anything, Y/N.” Logan paused, taking a second to admire how stunning you looked. You stood there in nothing but a soft pink robe with little cherries all over it and your hair was wet. You even smelled the same. “We’re doing some…. work nearby and we need somewhere to stay.”

”Go fuck yourself, how about that?” You tried to close the door but this time Logan stopped you. His hand was firm and steady as he held the door open.

“I-I just want to talk to you.”

You held his gaze, your eyes returning to their normal Y/E/C color.

Perhaps if he hadn’t looked so different from the last time you saw him, you’d slam the door in his face. But he didn’t look broken, his eyes weren’t empty. The Logan standing before you was more like the one you fell in love with years ago, rather than the one who had broken your heart.

“When was the last time you had a drink?”

Logan let out a heavy breath and almost rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. It was, like, forty-five minutes ago. But it was just one drink.”

”He’s seriously been cutting back on the alcohol.” The stranger nodded his head. “But if you ask me, I’d rather him be loaded with that shit. Makes him more tolerable.”

Logan elbowed him harshly in the ribs.

”It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you then isn’t it, buddy?” I raised my brows at the stranger.

”Yikes, you are just like I remember you being. All sweet and mean and shit.”

“Please, Y/N.” Logan pulled your attention back to him.

With a sigh of defeat, you stepped back and held the door for the two men.

“Yes! Thank you, Y/N.” The stranger happily entered your home. “You know, I’ve always wanted to see what your place was like. The you from my world banned me from her place a long time ago. We wear the same size shoes, you know. And apparently, she doesn’t like to share. Said I stretched out her Burkins. And her nighties.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you listened to the man ramble.

“Who in the fuck are you?”

”Wade Wilson.” The man turned around to face you, holding his hand out. “You might know me as Deadpool.”

”No, actually. I don’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Where the hell did you get this guy, Logan?”

”Uh, it’s a long story.”

”I can explain it all, momma. Let’s have a seat.” Wade gestured to your kitchen table and then pulled a chair out.

***

You stepped out onto your balcony, pulling a carton of cigarettes from the pocket in your jacket. Your eyes flickered out over the city.

Never in a million years did you think that Logan Howlett would show up at your apartment looking like a kicked dog. Never in a million years did you think he’d be able to dig himself out of the hole he tried to bury himself in ages ago. And never in a million years did you think he would have the guts to stand in front of you asking to stay for just the night.

He needed somewhere to stay for the night, somewhere to rest in the midst of whatever the fuck he was doing. And with him came a strange man by the name of Wade Wilson.

The air was cool and a gentle breeze blew through your hair. The faint sound of car horns kept you from being too absorbed by your own thoughts.

Out of the corner of your eye, something moved. It was Wade.

You took a puff of the cigarette and then offered it to him.

“Oh, no thank you. I’m trying to limit my oral intake of carcinogens.”

You nodded, finding it best not to question him, and moved to sit down at the little table.

“Sometimes I think things couldn’t get any more crazy. The man who broke my heart and made me contemplate offing myself shows up at my front door out of the blue with a man claiming to be from another universe entirely. How am I supposed to react to that?”

Wade opened his mouth to answer your rhetorical question with something sassy, but he stopped himself. He could see that your eyes were glossy and your breath was shaky. Your hand trembled as you held the cigarette up to your lips.

He slipped into the seat next to you, racking his brain for something to say.

“Did you know that?” You asked him, your eyes finding his. “That when we broke up, when he…. When Logan decided that he was done…. I thought about killing myself.”

”No, I didn’t.” Wade spoke softly.

”We were together for years. Almost a lifetime. And he just…. He just couldn’t take it anymore. After what happened at the school.” You paused for a moment. “He couldn’t move on, but he couldn’t die either. Everything just turned him into someone I— someone I didn’t know. Don’t know.”

Wade watched you in silence. His chest began to feet tight, like it was hard for him to breathe. Seeing his best friend— or at least his best friend in his world —so torn up, so genuinely hurt, made Deadpool feel bad.

“In my world, you two were together until his dying breath.”

Your eyes snapped over to him, unsure that you had heard him right.

”What?”

”Wherever you were, he was not too far behind. You two were inseparable. Practically joined at the hip.”

You gazed at him for a few moments, giving yourself time to process his words. An ache began to stir in your gut, the same ache that you fought every single minute of every single day to suppress.

“He-He died? In your- In your world, I mean.”

”Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Wade rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “It was a real dark time for everyone. I never even got to team up with him before he croaked.”

You flicked the ashes from your cigarette into an ashtray. You leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath.

“Your Logan, was he like this one?”

“Very similar. This one gives off slutty vibes. And he’s more drunk than the one from my world.”

“Was I happy with him, Wade?”

The Deadpool looked at you for a while. It was so weird to him that you were questioning your happiness with Logan Howlett. In his world, all you ever did was talk about Logan, about the memories you had with him.

“Happier than anyone I ever knew.” He nodded his head softly. “Look, I don’t know your situation with him in this world, but I think you should let him talk to you.”

You took a deep breath of the cigarette. The back of your throat burned.

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. Just let him talk and explain himself. Make him feel like a dick for what he did. Then have the hottest makeup sex ever. Lovers-to-enemies-back-to-lovers sex is the best. Or so I’ve heard. I haven’t had a chance to experience that yet. Still on my bucket list.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me before. What makes you think he’ll listen to me now?”

“In our little journey we’ve had, I think I’ve been a good influence on him. I got him to smile, like, three times.”

You wanted to believe him, to trust the words he was telling you and the grin on his face. But you couldn’t stop thinking back to the Logan you remembered.

The cigarette between your fingertips disappeared beneath your touch, the gentle breeze taking away the particles of what was left of it.

You looked down at your hand, a shaky breath leaving through your lips.

“I don’t know, Wade.”

“That’s okay, momma. That’s okay.” He put his hands up. “It’s late and it’s been a wild and odd day for you. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, standing from your chair.

He stood to his feet and looked down at you for a few moments. Then his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Oh, uh–,”

“Shhh. Just let me hug you.” He whispered.

You were confused and shocked a little bit, but you hugged him back nonetheless.

“You smell just like the Y/N from my world.”

”Alright, okay.” You pulled away from him.

“I’m gonna go see if the princess is done with her shower yet.”

“Goodnight, Wade.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You watched him walk back into your apartment and he disappeared around a corner.

You stood there for a few moments in silence. He was an interesting man. You almost enjoyed how much he constantly annoyed Logan.

“What a fucking day.” You rubbed your temple with one hand as you moved to return to your seat.

The cigarette pack was pulled from your jacket pocket and you took out a second cigarette. You put the stick between your lips, then reached back into your pocket to pull out a lighter.

Someone cleared their throat. You turned your head to see Logan standing in the doorway. He was in a pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was damp, a telltale sign that he had just gotten out of the shower.

You said nothing to him for a few heartbeats.

“Your friend is strange.” You nodded to the seat beside you that Wade had previously sat in. As Logan sat down, you held out the pack of cigarettes for him.

“Thanks.” He muttered, taking the box and pulling a cigarette out. You took it back from him and tossed it down onto the table. “He’s…. He’s not too bad.”

You lit your cigarette, then passed the lighter to Logan.

”When’d you take up smoking?” He placed the lighter down on the table next to the pack of cigarettes.

“Couple years ago.”

Logan wanted to look at you, to see how much you had changed in the years since he had last seen you. But he couldn’t bring himself to see the way that you looked at him. The sadness. The grief. The anger. So instead, the Wolverine focused his gaze on the skyline ahead.

The two of you sat there in silence for what felt like ages. Part of you didn’t know what to say, but the other part of you didn’t feel like it was your job to be the first to speak. That was on him.

You finished the cigarette with one final deep breath, then you put it out in the ashtray. The silence was getting to be too much, and you contemplated getting a third cigarette.

“Why did you come here, Logan?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest.

”I wanted to…. I guess I just wanted to see you.” He blew a cloud of smoke from his lips. “The whole way here, I was trying to think of something to say, of what I could say to apologize to you, to show you that I am sorry. But nothing is good enough. Nothing sounds good enough.”

You turned your head to look at him, tilting your head to the side just a little.

“Start with an actual apology, Logan. Tell me that you are sorry. God knows you’ve never fucking done that before.”

Logan pressed his lips together tightly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, not yet at least.

“I am sorry, Y/N.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until the breeze blowing over the balcony made your damp cheeks feel cold. You turned away from him, hastily wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket.

“I am— I’m so, so fucking sorry for everything.” Logan’s voice was quiet.

“I thought about killing myself, Logan.”

It was his turn to look at you. His brows were drawn together and his lips parted.

“What?”

“I had no one left. The Professor was gone. Storm, Jean, there was no one fucking left for me to go to.” Your voice trembled as you said each name.

“I’m— Y/N, I’m sorry. I just…. There was a lot going on and I—,”

”You don’t think I didn’t fucking see what was going on, Logan?” You cut him off. The sadness and grief you felt quickly turned to anger. “I wanted to help you. I did everything I could to try to help you! And you just shot me down like I was a fucking nobody to you. Like we hadn’t spent the last fifteen plus years together!”

”I didn’t know how to process everything!” He raised his voice. All the emotions from all those years ago came flooding back to him. “You couldn’t fix everything, Y/N! You couldn’t just make things better with a snap of your fingers! I was an asshole. The biggest fucking asshole in the world. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You stood to your feet. The thought of just sitting idly while you felt the white hot anger of a thousand suns under your skin made you want to vomit.

“Fuck you, Logan. Actually and genuinely fuck you. To think you have the right to find me and just waltz in and try to apologize for fucking being the absolute biggest dickhead in the entire—,”

Logan cut you off by wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into what was perhaps the tightest hug you had ever had in your life. He buried his face against the side of your head, his hands pressing firmly into your back.

You were frozen in shock for the first few seconds. What was he doing? What was he trying to do?

”I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

And just like that, you melted around him. Your arms wrapped around his torso. You buried your face in his chest.

Sure, you weren’t completely accepting of his apology. There were still plenty of conversations the two of you needed to have to work through your issues. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t been dreaming about this moment for years.

You stood there for a long time, probably too long, holding him as tight as you possibly could. Your tears dampened his hoodie at the center of his chest and you were sure you could feel his own tears making your hair damp.

When he finally felt that he had held you for long enough, Logan pulled back. You looked up at him, taking in a shaky breath through your lips. His large hands came up to cup your face, thumbs brushing the tears away.

”We should go to sleep.”

”Yeah.” You nodded your head, stepping away from him so that you could gather yourself quickly. “Um, yeah. I think Wade said something about sharing the guest bed with you.”

”Oh, great.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“You can always sleep on the couch if you want.” You offered, moving around him and into your apartment.

You stopped in the kitchen to watch him. As he stepped into the dim lighting of your home, you found yourself staring at him once more. It felt like you were dreaming, like maybe this was some sort of coma dream. Maybe you fell down the stairs in your apartment and this wasn’t real.

”Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Logan.”

[beforeimdeceased]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[acid-ixx]

I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

[inkskinned]

there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo

and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".

it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.

and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.

there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society

at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this

and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".

hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.

the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy

and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.

and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?

[theemissuniverse]

“BOYFRIEND TAX” JOHNNY CAGE X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Johnny usually slaps your ass but this time he doesn’t

WARNING : MINORS DONT INTERACT! p in v, “good girl” , backshots, praise kink, probably some other stuff I’m leaving out

MASTERLIST

You could not escape the ass slapping of Johnny Cage. He couldn’t help but smack your ass everywhere the two of you went. Everywhere.

Johnny did not care if you were in private or around people. Johnny always took his opportunity to smack your ass which irritated you to no end. (You liked it in reality though.)

Even as simple as bending down to pick something up. Johnny was right there to smack it. Not only that but get behind you and fake fuck you.

You even tried smacking his own ass. “See! It’s annoying isn’t it?”

Johnny just smirked at you. “Jokes on you. I’m into that.” You groaned and walked away from him, leaving him laughing.

But when he didn’t do it-nothing felt right.

You were in your guy’s home. You finished making spaghetti for dinner and went to tell your boyfriend that was sitting down, reading over a script.

“Dinner is ready, dear. Do you want me to make you a plate now?”

“Yeah, go ahead, babe.”

You were about to walk back in the kitchen when you noticed something on the floor in front of where Johnny was sitting. You walked over and bent down to pick it up. Your ass was facing right in front of Johnny.

You expected an ass smack but did not receive one. You blinked, confused.

Picking the trash up, you turned around to see Johnny was invested in what he was reading. You didn’t understand why it made you mad he didn’t do it. You placed your hands on your hips as you looked down at him. “Excuse you.”

Johnny looked up from his script to look at you. “Yeah, babe?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Johnny thought long and hard to see what you could possibly be mad about. He then made a face as if he understood. “Oh yeah.” He stood up from the couch. You awaited for your ass to be smacked but instead he placed his right hand on your waist. He then gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Thanks for cooking dinner, baby. Damn, you look hot.”

It was always nice when Johnny gave you a compliment especially when you didn’t look the best. I mean, you literally were wearing an apron and tomato sauce was all over you. But that’s not what you wanted.

Before Johnny could sit back down, you grabbed his arm. “No! That’s not it.” You removed your hand from his arm. “I bended down in front of you and you didn’t do anything.”

It clicked in Johnny’s head. He laughed a little. “Aw, babe.” He pulled you by the waist and he gave you a smack on the ass before he pulled you closer to him. “I knew you liked when I did that.”

You suppressed your moan and pushed him off of you. “Yeah, well it’s not the same if I have to ask you. You must be thinking about some other girl’s ass.” You took off your apron and threw it at him.

Walking away from him, Johnny rolled his eyes slightly and knew to follow you or it would be sleeping on the couch for him tonight. “You know your ass is the only one I think about.”

When you walked in the kitchen, you made a hand motion to him as if to mimic his talking. Sometimes you could be more childish than him.

Johnny gave you a look. “Really? That’s the card we’re playing?”

“Go be with the girl who’s ass you’d rather smack.”

Johnny got behind you. He gripped onto your pants and slid his hands so he was also gripping your underwear. In one swift motioned, he made both of them drop to your ankles. He licked his fingers and brought you to his chest. Then stuck his fingers inside your pussy, making you moan. “I’ll show you the girl that I want to be with.”

You probably should’ve left well enough alone. (Then again, probably not.) Johnny had you bent over the kitchen table as he fucked you from behind.

Johnny watched your ass jiggle with each thrust and he smacked your ass a couple times. You were moaning uncontrollably. “Is this what you wanted? Ah baby all you had to do was ask.”

“Oh my god. Yes. Fuck me just like that.”

He groaned at your talking. His hands felt all over your ass and he gave it some good hard smacks. “Mmm. All this ass is mine.” He gripped your hips harshly. “Shit, you feel so damn good.”

Stuff was getting knocked off the table but the two of you didn’t care about it.

You started to throw your ass back on his dick. Johnny helped you with each thrust. “There you go.” He rubbed your ass soothingly. “Who’s my good girl?”

“I’m your good girl. Oh god. I am Johnny.”

“You better believe it.”

Your release was starting to come close. You threw your ass back at him even harder. Your pussy was so wet that your juices were running down your thigh. “I’m about to cum. Please make me cum.”

Johnny moaned at your words. He rubbed your back as he pounded into you. “Cum on me, baby. Make my dick wet.”

His words made you lose it. “Oh, Johnny. I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

“That’s it baby. Cum on me. Just like that.”

Johnny felt you come undone on him. He pounced into you until you were completely done. Then he pulled out of you.

He grabbed his pants and pulled them on before buttoning them back closed. “You’re so fucking hot.” Johnny noticed your knees were a little weak. He helped pull your own pants and underwear up.

Johnny gave you a kiss on your cheek. “What about you?” You asked him.

“Eh. You can get me after dinner.” He smacked your ass and gave you a wink before walking away.

You were hot? He was so fucking hot.