#this is one of those fics that u never forget

[tickletails]

The Fern art you posted made me go into ticklish Fern mode and now I’m really wanting to write a fic about it-

HELL YEAA!! I support u 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[starlooove]

He is in fact not cool with his friends killing people he just can’t do shit about it and the fact that he thinks he can do smth about (and does!) when it comes to his kids is like a major point

[bisaster-energy]

i do get making cas essentially human i understand that he can adjust to it and actually enjoy life like that. but um. i just think he can be just as fulfilled as a full blown angel

[gideonisms]

I think we need 2 kinds of romance: Dinner Dates and Deathless Devotion. That's not the same thing & acknowledging it's not could literally stop wars (prevent me from going into fics craving Deathless Devotion when the fic is about the characters Living A Normal Life)

[marypsue]

I had been thinking about rereading the road goes ever on to make a list of all the movie references I put in (which is coming shortly). The conversation I had on here (with possibly two different anons?) about how I wished I’d had more time to develop the final chapter and whether I’d go back and make edits to that chapter now that it’s published lit a fire under me to actually do that reread. I finished it tonight, and discovered that, now that I’ve got enough distance from the fic to read it more from the perspective of a reader than from the perspective of a writer working on editing a WIP, there’s really only one thing about the final chapter that I’d actually want to change: 

I never put a scene in the epilogue that shows that Kali’s still occasionally posing as Conners and working (possibly with Owens’ help) to sabotage any further attempts by the government to keep the whole ‘kidnapping psychics’ thing going or to open a new Gate. 

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[taurasiluvr]

SEE YOUR MAN IS A MAN BUT HE AIN'T ME / SEE THAT * CAN'T BE WHAT HE CAN'T BE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine part one part three

★ i got a couple requests for a prequel for my paige fic, so here it is!! ★ "queen u should do like a prequel to ur paige fic where u show what happened when the mc and bf was on break. ur writing is amazing btw 😘😘" /// "hey girlie, could u do a part two to the paige fic but like it’s sorta a prequel? like what happens when the reader and her bf were on a break. ur an amazing writer, thank u for ur service 🫡"

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. fingering, oral (r receiving), more cheating, mentions of alcohol, ugly ass bf (ewww)

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 4.7k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

"that's what i fucking said!" you shouted into the phone, frustration evident in your voice.

you glanced at your nails, trying to keep your temper in check as your boyfriend's rant continued on the other end of the line. his shouting about god knows what was getting on your nerves, especially since you were at paige's place, getting ready for a party.

paige leaned against the doorframe, her eyes full of concern as she watched you. she could hear your boyfriend's muffled yelling from across the room and raised an eyebrow in silent question.

you sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. "look, i can't do this right now. i'm at p's right now, and we're about to head out. we'll talk later," you said, trying to end the call.

"don't hang up on me!" your boyfriend snapped, his voice loud enough that even paige could make out his words. she frowned, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to you.

"my god, this shit is exhausting!" you said, exasperation coloring your tone. "we're on break, okay? this is the exact reason why we are on the break in the first place, i'm tired of you!"

paoge reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. she mouthed, "hang up," and you nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for her support.

"bye, i'll talk to you later." you said firmly, ending the call despite your boyfriend's protests. you dropped your phone onto the bed and took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger bubbling inside you.

paige stepped closer, her hands gently cupping your face. "you okay?" she asked softly, her eyes full of concern.

you nodded, though your frustration was still evident. "yeah, just... sick of his shit. he's always yelling about something."

paige's thumbs brushed lightly against your cheeks. "you don't have to put up with that, you know."

"i know," you sighed, leaning into her touch. "it's just... complicated."

paige gave you a small, understanding smile. "it doesn't have to be."

you looked at her, searching for comfort in her steady gaze. "let's just get ready for the party, needa forget about him for a while."

paige nodded, her smile widening. "sounds like a plan."

you both continued getting ready, the atmosphere lightening as paige started making jokes and playfully teasing you. she helped you pick out an outfit, her eyes lingering on you with a mix of admiration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"if he saw me wear this, i swear he'd lose his shit," you laughed as you eyed yourself through the reflection.

paige rolled her eyes. "you know this is a free country right? he's just an insecure fuck."

you laughed as you glanced at the blonde, you could see her gaze lingering on your ass for a little longer than a friend should have. you felt your cheeks heat up as you licked your lips, choosing to ignore it. paige had always admired you; she's never hid the fact she thought you were hot from you.

"you're just saying that 'cause you have better taste," you teased, adjusting the hem of your shirt.

Paige smirked, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. "damn right i do. and you look amazing."

your blush deepened, but you tried to play it off with a laugh. "thanks, p. you always know how to make me feel good."

"that's what i'm here for," she replied with a wink.

the sound of your phone buzzing interrupted the moment. you glanced at the screen, seeing a long text from your boyfriend. you sighed, feeling the weight of his constant questioning pressing down on you.

"let me guess," paige said, her tone laced with sarcasm. "nother 'concerned' message from mr. clingy?"

"yep," you replied, tossing your phone onto the bed. "it's like he can't let me breathe."

paige grabbed your phone, skimming through the text before scoffing. her expression was amused as she met your gaze before you both burst out in laughter. "fuck," she just swiped the message from your notification center before glancing up at you.

as you finished getting ready, you could feel the excitement building. the prospect of a night out with paige and your girls was exactly what you needed to escape the stress and tension. paige handed you a pair of heels, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"these will complete the look," she said, helping you slip them on.

you stood up, wobbling slightly on the unfamiliar height. paige steadied you, her hands warm and reassuring on your waist. "careful there, cinderella."

you laughed, feeling a genuine happiness that had been missing for a while. "thanks, prince charming."

she chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "anytime, princess."

with one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and headed out the door, paige by your side. the drive to the party was filled with laughter and easy conversation, a stark contrast to the earlier argument with your boyfriend. by the time you arrived, you felt lighter, more carefree.

the party was in full swing when you walked in. music pulsed through the air, and people filled every corner of the house. paige stayed close to you, her presence a comforting anchor in the chaos. you spotted your girls in the crowd and waved, making your way over to them.

"finally!" aaliyah exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "we thought you were never gonna get here."

"sorry," you said with a laugh, returning the hug. "had some... complications."

nika raised an eyebrow, glancing at paige. "complications, huh? everything okay?"

"yeah," paige answered for you, her hand resting lightly on your back. "just some boyfriend drama. but we're here to have fun, right?"

"right!" aubrey agreed, handing you a drink. "let's forget about the drama and enjoy the night."

as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more and more. paige stayed by your side, her playful banter and easy confidence helping you forget about your earlier argument. at one point, you caught her looking at you with a soft smile, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

"thanks for being here," you said quietly, leaning in so she could hear you over the music.

"always," paige replied, her eyes sparkling with sincerity.

you felt a rush of gratitude and something deeper, something that made your heartbeat a little faster. for the first time in a while, you felt truly happy, surrounded by friends and free from the weight of your boyfriend's constant demands.

as the party continued, someone suggested doing body shots. the idea was met with enthusiastic cheers, and before you knew it, you were being pulled towards the center of the room. paige's eyes lit up with excitement as she nudged you playfully.

"come on, it'll be fun!" she said, her grin infectious.

you laughed, feeling a mix of nervousness and thrill. "okay, okay! who's going first?"

aubrey handed you a shot glass filled with tequila and a slice of lime. "why don't you start, and paige can go next?"

you glanced at paige, who winked at you. "let's do it."

you lay down on the makeshift bar setup, feeling the cool surface against your back. the room erupted in cheers and whistles as Paige leaned over you, her eyes locked onto yours. she sprinkled salt on your stomach, her touch sending shivers down your spine.

"ready?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.

"yeah," you replied quietly, your heart racing.

paige licked the salt off your skin, her tongue warm and soft against your flesh. she quickly took the shot, her eyes never leaving yours, and then bit into the lime that had been in your mouth.

"your turn, princess," paige said, her voice a little breathless as she helped you up.

you switched places, your hands trembling slightly as you poured the tequila and placed the lime slice in her mouth. paige lay back, her eyes watching you intently. you sprinkled the salt on her stomach, your fingers brushing against her skin, and felt the tension between you intensify.

"go for it," paige encouraged, her eyes dark with anticipation.

you leaned down, licking the salt from her skin, the taste mingling with the warmth of her body. you took the shot quickly, the burn of the alcohol mixing with the rush of adrenaline. as you bit into the lime, you looked into paige's eyes and saw the same heat and desire mirrored there.

the room around you seemed to fade away as you finished the shot, your focus entirely on paige. she sat up slowly, her face inches from yours, and you could feel her breath on your lips.

"that was hot," paige breathed out with a chuckle.

you licked your lips as her eyes kept glancing to your lips, a smirk evident on hers. the moment was charged with unspoken tension, the air thick with possibilities. for a second, you thought paige might lean in and kiss you, but the spell was broken by the sound of laughter and cheers from your friends.

"who's next?" aubrey called out, oblivious to the moment you and paige had just shared.

you stepped back, your heart still pounding, and forced a smile. "yeah, yeah."

paige's hands found your hips as she led you away from the crowd, her touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. she followed you, your mind racing and your body still tingling from the shared intimacy of the body shots. the party's noise and energy seemed to blur into the background as you both made your way to a quieter corner of the room.

"that was fun," paige said, her voice low as she glanced back at you.

you nodded, your breath catching in your throat. "yeah, it was."

paige's eyes softened, and she gave you a small, reassuring smile. "you okay?"

"yeah," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. "haven't done body shots in a while," you forced out a chuckle as paige kept her eyes glued on you.

paige chuckled, her thumb brushing against your side. "yeah well maybe we needa do more, huh?"

you laughed as you nodded, paige joining in a few moments after. the two of you stood there for a moment, the party continuing around you but feeling distant and detached.

the party continued and you found yourself drinking a little more than you should have. the buzz of alcohol dulled the edges of your anxiety, making everything feel softer and more manageable. paige stayed close by, her presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos of the party.

you felt lighter, freer, and more attuned to the warmth of the people around you. you stole glances at Paige, noticing the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed and how her smile seemed to light up the room.

someone suggested playing another round of truth or dare, and the group eagerly agreed. you and Paige found yourselves back in the circle, this time sitting even closer, your legs brushing against each other. the game began again, and the dares grew bolder and the truths more revealing – you didn't expect anything less of college aged people.

when it was your turn, you hesitated for a moment before choosing "dare." you were feeling bold, the alcohol giving you a boost of confidence.

"i dare you to go into the closet with p for seven minutes in heaven," they declared, their eyes dancing with excitement.

the room erupted in cheers and laughter, and you felt your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. you glanced at paige, who raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"well, shall we?" paige asked, extending a hand to help you up.

you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you took her hand. the group continued to cheer and tease as you and paige made your way to the closet. once inside, paige closed the door behind you, and the noise from the party was muffled, leaving you in a small, dimly lit space with her.

the air between you was charged with tension, and you could feel your pulse quicken. paige leaned against the door, her eyes locked onto yours.

"guess we have seven minutes," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. "yeah, seven minutes."

paige took a step closer, her gaze intense. "what do you want to do with those seven minutes?"

you laughed, shaking your head. "you're such a horny fuck, paige."

"me? never," she laughed but her eyes didn't leave your face. "you're just really hot, i mean... look at what you're wearin' princess, i can't help it."

it seemed the alcohol had also given paige a boost of confidence, making her bolder than usual. she took another step closer, her body inches from yours, the heat between you palpable.

"really gonna blame it on what i'm wearing?" you teased. "pretty sure you've been looking at me like this all night."

paige's smile turned mischievous. "maybe i have. what are you gonna do about it?"

your breath hitched at her words, the challenge in her eyes making your pulse race even faster. you felt a surge of bravery, fueled by the tension and the alcohol in your system. stepping closer, you reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, your fingers lingering on her cheek.

"i think i'll do this," you murmured, leaning in and closing the gap between you.

your lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the world outside the closet fading away. paige responded eagerly, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, and you felt a rush of heat spread through your body, the intensity of the moment consuming you both.

paige's hands roamed over your back, her touch sending shivers down your spine. you lost yourself in the sensation, your fingers tangling in her hair as you pressed your body against hers. the kiss became more urgent, a release of all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for what felt like forever.

breaking the kiss for a moment, paige's forehead rested against yours, her breath warm on your lips. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that," she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

"wonder how your little boyfriend would feel about this, huh, princess?" she teased as you rolled your eyes.

"shut up," you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

you captured her lips again, silencing her teasing with another passionate kiss. paige's hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressed together in the small closet.

the intensity between you was electric, each touch, each kiss fueling the fire that had been smoldering for so long. you could feel paige's heart beating against yours, the rhythm matching the wild pace of your own. her hands slid down to your hips, her fingers gripping you firmly, grounding you in the moment.

she pushed you against the table that was set behind you, a groan leaving her lips as she did so. the edge of the table pressed into your back, but the discomfort was overshadowed by the intensity of paige's kiss. her hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as she deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with a desperate need.

you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer, the heat between you building with each passing second. paige's hands roamed over your body, her touch both gentle and demanding. she trailed kisses down your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in her wake.

"paige," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers tangling in her hair.

she lifted her head, her eyes dark with desire as she looked at you. "wanted this for so long," she confessed, her voice husky and filled with longing.

"me too," you admitted, your heart racing. "i've tried to ignore it, but i can't anymore."

paige's lips curved into a small smile, her hands sliding under your shirt, her fingers brushing against your bare skin. "then don't," she murmured, her lips finding yours again in a searing kiss.

as the kiss intensified, paige's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it aside. her eyes roamed over your exposed skin, her gaze filled with admiration and desire. she leaned in, pressing kisses along your collarbone, her hands exploring every inch of you.

you arched into her touch, your breath hitching as she trailed her fingers down your sides, leaving a path of tingling sensations. paige's lips found your ear, her breath warm against your skin as she whispered, "you drive me crazy, you know that?"

you laughed softly, your hands sliding down her back. "good," you replied, your voice laced with a mix of teasing and sincerity.

paige's hands moved to your waist, her fingers slipping under the waistband of your pants. "can i?" she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and hesitation.

you nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. "yes."

with a swift motion, paige unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs. her hands caressed your thighs, her touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. she looked up at you, her eyes filled with an intense longing that mirrored your own.

"need you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

you cupped her face in your hands, pulling her in for another kiss. "'m yours," you replied, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation.

paige's eyes darkened with desire, her hands moving to your underwear, sliding them down with a slow, deliberate motion. she kissed her way down your body, her lips leaving a trail of fire as they moved lower and lower. the sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling with anticipation.

she quickly straightened up, lifting you up into the table easily. her hands found your hips, and she pulled you forward, your bodies pressed together in a feverish embrace. you could feel the heat radiating from her as her lips traveled back up your body, tracing a path of desire that left you breathless.

when her mouth found yours again, the kiss was hungry and desperate, a reflection of the emotions that had been building between you for so long.

paige's hands roamed freely, exploring the contours of your body with a reverence that made you shiver. she took her time, savoring every moment, every reaction she elicited from you. her touch was both tender and commanding, a perfect balance that left you craving more.

as her hands moved to your breasts, you gasped, arching into her touch. paige's mouth followed the path of her hands, her lips and tongue teasing your sensitive skin. the combination of her touch and the cool air of the closet sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making it hard to think about anything other than the woman in front of you.

"paige," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. "please."

she looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "tell me what you want, princess."

you bit your lip, trying to find the words. "i want you... no.. i need you to touch me."

paige's smile was both tender and wicked as she complied, her hands sliding down your body with a slow, deliberate motion. when her fingers finally found your wet pussy, you let out a soft moan, your head falling back as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

she moved with a skilled precision, her fingers teasing and exploring, driving you to the edge with every touch. the sensations were almost too much to bear, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. paige's name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper, a plea for more.

and she gave it to you, her movements becoming more insistent, her touch more demanding. the world outside the closet ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in this moment of raw, unrestrained passion. every caress, every kiss, every whispered word pushed you closer to the brink, until you were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"fuck," you gasped, your hands gripping her shoulders as you felt yourself reaching the peak. "'m so close."

paige leaned down, ignoring your pleas and spread your legs further. her lips found your cunt, her tongue delving into it as she began to devour you like you were her last meal. your hand found her hair, your legs wrapped around her head as you cried out.

"fuckfuckfuck, please," your makeup was running at this point but you didn't care anymore, you just needed to cum.

as soon as her tongue became flicking your clit, the coil in your stomach snapped as you let out a sob of pure pleasure. "oh my god!"

when the waves of pleasure finally began to subside, you collapsed against her, your breath coming in ragged gasps. paige sat up as her arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both tried to catch your breath.

for a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the world outside the closet a distant memory. then paige pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with a mix of tenderness and concern.

"you okay?" she asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

you nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. "more than okay. that was... amazing."

"aw, sweetheart. does he fuck you like that?" paige joked as you rolled your eyes. her finger swiped below your eyes, removing the mascara that was running down your face.

you playfully smacked paige's arm, trying to suppress the laughter that bubbled up. "shut up," you teased, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration from the intimacy you'd just shared.

paige chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "hey, just curious. gotta know how i compare," she said, her tone light.

you rolled your eyes again, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "you're impossible," you muttered, but your smile gave you away.

paige's finger gently swiped beneath your eyes, removing the smudged makeup. "there," she said softly, her touch lingering on your cheek. "all better."

the moment was tender, filled with unspoken words and shared emotions. paige's thumb brushed against your skin, her eyes locking onto yours. for a second, the world outside seemed to disappear again, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of newfound intimacy.

but the bubble burst as the closet door opened suddenly, and nika stood there, her expression with urgency. "guys, sorry to interrupt," she said, glancing between the two of you, "but your boyfriend just showed up."

your heart dropped at her words, the elation from moments before evaporating instantly. "what?" you exclaimed, stepping away from paige.

nika nodded, her brows furrowed with annoyance. "yeah, he's here, and he looks pissed. he was asking about you."

paige's expression darkened, her protective instincts kicking in. "great," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "just what we needed."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "guess o have to go talk to him," you said reluctantly, the weight of reality crashing back down on you.

paige stepped closer, her hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you want me to come with you?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

you hesitated for a moment, then shook your head. "no, it's fine. i need to handle this on my own." You squeezed her hand back, grateful for her support. "but thank you."

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation ahead. with a final look at Paige, you stepped out of the closet, nika leading the way to where your boyfriend was waiting.

he was standing in the living room, his face a storm of emotions. as soon as he saw you, his eyes narrowed, and he strode towards you. "where the hell have you been?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger and frustration.

you squared your shoulders, trying to remain calm. "i've been at the party," you replied evenly. "what's your problem?"

"my problem?" he echoed, his voice rising. "you've been ignoring my calls and texts! and now i find out you've been hiding in a closet with paige?"

"first of all, it's a game!" you shot back, using the same tone he was. "ever heard of seven minutes in heaven?"

"that sure as hell was more than seven minutes, babe." his eyes flashed with anger and hurt, but he took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm himself. "but you didn't answer my calls or texts. what's going on with us?"

you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "i told you, we need space to figure things out. this break was supposed to help us do that."

he stared at you for a moment, then looked away, his jaw clenched. "i just... i don't want to lose you," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with desperation.

your heart ached at his words, the conflict within you growing. "don't want to lose you either," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "but we need to work on our issues. we can't keep having these fights all the time."

he nodded slowly, his expression softening. "okay, i get that. but seeing you with paige... it just messed with my head."

"nothing's happening with Paige," you lied, trying to reassure him and keep the peace. "it was just a game. you have to trust me."

he looked at you, searching your eyes for the truth. after a moment, he nodded again, though his expression was still troubled. "alright. i trust you. but we need to talk about this. really talk."

you nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt. "we will. but not here, not now. let's just try to enjoy the rest of the night, okay?"

He took a deep breath and then reached out to take your hand. "okay. but promise me we'll talk soon."

"promise," you said, squeezing his hand. "we'll figure this out."

with that, the tension between you seemed to ease slightly. you both turned and headed back into the house, the noise and energy of the party a stark contrast to the heavy conversation you had just had. as you reentered the party, you spotted paige watching you from across the room, her eyes filled with concern.

you gave her a small, reassuring nod, and she responded with a tentative smile. you knew this wasn't over, and there would be more conversations, more decisions to make. but for now, you were trying to hold on to the fragile peace you had managed to create.

throughout the rest of the night, your boyfriend stayed close by your side, his presence a constant reminder of the complexity of your feelings. paige didn't really give a fuck, she was still by your side, her hand always seemed to be on your shoulder or arm (she knew she'd get her ass beat if she touched your back or hips, where her hands usually would be).

when the time came to leave, your boyfriend offered to drive you home. as you said your goodbyes to your friends, paige pulled you aside for a moment.

"you okay?" she asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

you nodded, though your heart felt heavy. you glanced behind you, looking at your boyfriend whose gaze was stuck on you and paige. "yeah, i'm okay. thanks for everything tonight."

paige gave you a small smile. "anytime, princess. just... take care of yourself, alright?"

"i will," you promised, giving her a hug. "we'll talk later."

paige's arms embraced you tightly, as she gave you a kiss on your head. she looked up to meet your boyfriend's eyes, giving him a smirk before she licked her lips, her eyes finding yours again.

"i love you," she muttered.

"i love you too, p." you managed a smile as you both leaned away.

paige looked up to see your now, seething boyfriend. she gave him a smile as she waved all in the mask of politeness. god, how she loved pushing his buttons.

your boyfriend's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he returned paige's wave with a curt nod. you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, and you knew that once you were alone, there would be a lot to talk about.

"let's go," your boyfriend said tersely, his voice barely masking his anger.

"yeah," you replied, glancing one last time at paige. she gave you a reassuring nod, her eyes softening with concern.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[bunnys-kisses]

Love love LOVE your writing ❤️. Can I please place a "picky" order?

Profiteroles with Hard lemonade & Cider on the side with Max Verstappen?

(hold the bun in oven if it's not too much. pregnancy is my least favorite trope) 😅🙏🏻

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu!! there are tons of items that are hopefully to your liking! as for this anon, thank you for the order! don't worry about being 'picky', i'd rather you like the fic than not, haha. but you did pick some nice prompts for your order! so enjoy!

profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) + cider (body worship) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, needy!max, possessive behaviour, body worship, uni student!reader, doggy style, praise

you could've gone all summer break just sleeping. to be curled up next to your lover, max verstappen, and sleeping. occasionally getting up for food or a shower, but staying in the confines of the apartment he lived in.

currently you were living in england to finish your studies in university, which made it hard to see the world class formula one driver. even when he was in england for silverstone, it was hard to fit into one another's schedule.

so for months since the beginning of the season you two lived most of your relationship through discord. so away from school and away from racing, you wanted to just sleep in your lover's arms.

max had other plans.

you woke up to the feeling of max's lips on your skin, his hands on your soft thighs. you groaned and opened your eyes. you made a small noise when you felt his tight grip on you.

"max." you said softly, "can't wait for breakfast."

he kissed at your neck, "no, i can't. i need you." his hand slipped between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. you were both naked from the night before when max spent what felt like hours fingering you before he eventually slipped into you.

even now, he still couldn't get enough. he wanted you deeply, like a piece of lead in his chest. the months apart have made him a little possessive over you, jealous of the other students that you mingled with at your school.

he sighed, "i need you, really badly. i want myself all over you. inside and out." he had already kept that promise with the amount of hickies on your chest and the verstappen logo t-shirts in your suitcase.

he was acting as if your name wasn't on his wikipedia page and his photos weren't plastered all over your instagram. literally over dinner last night, you took photos together before he had you face down in his soft mattress.

you knew that your birth control was working over time this trip, for when max got too lost into the rhythm of his thrusts to pull out. he continued to rub against your slit and you moaned a little bit in response.

he chuckled and kissed at your neck with such love, he rubbed his cock up against your behind and buried his nose back into your neck. he started to really focus in on your clit as he made you squirm a little but against him.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "my pretty little treasure. do you know how much i love you. i thought about you every day on the track, can't you take a semester off and see me race every weekend."

you squirmed a little, feeling the heat bloom in your face, "max, fuck."

he rubbed up against your further, almost pushing you under his weight. his fingers grazed across his clit and you moaned a little louder into the covers.

you moaned, "please."

"i'm worried you forget all about me at university." he said, "all those men you could meet, makes me a little worried."

you swallowed, "i could never, max. shit. i love you too much." you squirmed a little harder but as he pressed more weight onto you, you could do little about it. you were stuck under him, and were moved around by his hands.

he got onto his knees behind you and pushed your further into the soft pillows. his cock twitched as he rubbed up against you. he loved the sight of you, the softness of your thighs, the curve of your back. the roundness of your ass and the sweetness of your cunt.

not to mention your beautiful eyes that draw him in, your lips that made him want to go in for hot kisses. you were a complete package.

"i love you." he said. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you. not that you were going anywhere fast, but sometimes the space between you two left anxiety clawing in his gut.

but, now, being so close to you. calmed the anxiety in his head as he pushed into you. feeling his cock slip into your sweet hole. he sighed through his tense jaw as he started to move against you.

you whimpered and clutched onto the covers. you arched your back and felt your heart race in your chest as you held onto tightly. to have your ass in the air and max's cock deep inside of your pussy.

"you feel amazing. i've thought about this cunt every fucking day we were apart." he groaned as he found a comfortable pace. he could feel the heat down his back as he moved against you.

"shit, max. i thought about you every day. it's hard to focus on classes when you're getting flirty texts from your boyfriend." you giggled a little before a moan left your lips.

he smiled a little bit, the thought that he was on your mind all the time. that he had nestled between those ears of yours while you two were so far apart. he hunched over you further, really working his cock inside of you.

you in turn sounded delightful under him, his perfect girl. his treasure. you panted, "yeah, everyone talks about their stupid boyfriends and all i can think about is you on the track, winning, for us." you moaned a little louder.

he groaned, he loved the sound of that. the sound of you, the love you carried for him. it was an intense feeling in his gut as he continued to push his cock into you. he heard you pant and whine as the sounds of sex filled the room. he could feel every noise in the pit of his stomach with each thrust.

"i love you. i need you." he panted as he moved against you, "always and forever. you're my angel, my treasure." he shuddered.

you panted heavily the more you two moved against one another. you gasped and moaned into the covers the more he rocked into you. his thrusts quickened and you felt hot all over.

"i love you." he said again

you whined, "i love you too, max. so fuckin' much." you arched your back a little further the more the pleasure went through your system.

"mine." he groaned.

you panted, "shit. max. god." you felt his cock in the deepest parts of you and it flooded your brain with want. you came around his cock quickly, your hips moved a little bit as you chased your orgasm. you wiped your face up against the covers, trying to get rid of the sweat on your brow.

he gave a few more heavy thrusts before he pulled out and finished all over your back. marking your soft skin. you whined and arched your back a little at the lingering pleasure. his pace staggered before it slowed to a stop. he shakily exhaled and dropped down beside you.

he pulled you into a tight grasp and laid down onto the bed. he panted heavily as he curled up around you. he said between heavy pants, "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

"anywhere?" you asked as you linked your fingers with his.

he nodded against your head and felt relaxed, "yes, anywhere. i just want to be with you. i missed you." he kissed at your face and held onto you. he adored you, he loved every inch of you.

you held onto his bicep and kissed him on the lips softly. you rubbed your thighs together. you smiled at him, "alright. you and me, anywhere. spend the rest of the break hidden away from everyone."

he nodded, "yeah, exactly." he smiled at you. he kissed you once more. the jealousy in his gut seemed to fade for now. he kept you nestled in his arms.

anywhere you'd go, he'd follow. his favourite person on the planet. <3

[niefics]

CRAWLING BACK 2 U — P.JS X FEM!READER

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — SYNOPSIS : Reader & jay loose contact after a messy argument about a girl, jay comes crawling back wanting to make her feel good one last time.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — WARNINGS : toxic (?), Fem!reader, cussing, smut with a small plot, pussy eating, dumbification ? NOT PROOF READ!!! Oh and no protection (please wear it), breading kink, slut shaming (?), pet names, slight choking, fingering, cum eating??,, wc ; 2.5k, felt extra nasty ;)))

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — A/N : long time no see LOLLLL, I just ain’t been having inspo lmao .. also why does nb fw jay fics fr </33, reblogs are much preciated. I hope you like this fic!

Sighing harshly you broke the silence that was in jays apartment. "So who is she ?" You asked crossing your arms looking at him. He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching. "The fuck does it matter, we aren't dating." Your head snapped back at the sudden words. You knew he wasn't yours, you two never put a label on it but it was blatantly obvious what this relationship was. Friends with benefits that was obviously becoming more.

"It fucking matters because you are fucking me, and you always somehow forget to bring condoms so jay it does fucking matter!" You spoke, you've never snapped at jay but at this moment it was serious. Jay sighed, pinching nose bridge as he said your name. "Look, we are only fuck, okay? Only time you're over is to fuck got it ? We were never more." Jay spoke, his tone cold. The fact that he said you two were never more was irritating, assuming the nights you spent with each other just cuddling and acting lovey dovey was nothing more to him was funny, knowing he was the one who started it all. "So those night we laid up under eachother doing nothing but cuddling was nothing more right? Jay I know we aren't a thing I'm not dumb, but it feels like your fucking playing in my face and I don't like that. Do you want her cause she can have you. You were nothing more then dick to me anyways. You could barely hit the spots that made come anyways." You spoke coldly, grabbing your bag and walking to his front door slipping your shoes on and walking out.

One thing you didn't like was being played, especially by someone you know you can do better with. Months went by with no more interaction you didn't care more worried about yourself. There were night where you did miss jay but at that moment you could care less.

As the rain started to get heavy outside your apartment late at night, you were settled into your bed comfortably, half asleep as your tv blasted in the background for extra noise as you slept cuddled up to your pillow. And just as you were about to hit the deepest part of your sleep cycle you heard a continuous knock from your front door sighing, you got up slip on your house shoes and walking to go look through the peephole. You were surprised  to see the familiar figure of jay, someone you've cut off long ago. You tiredly unlocked the door to see him drenched. "Listen.." you tiredly rolled your eyes. "What are you here for ?" You questioned tiredly. "You.." he spoke, you laughed softly at his nonsense. "You had me once why would I let you have me again?"

He sighed, saying your name softly. "Cmon, it was a stupid argument." You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "You wouldn't answer the question of the bitch you could've been talking to, jay im not gonna let sleep with just anyone whenever you're sleeping with me! You hardly use condoms so why the fuck would I?" You spoke scrunching you eyebrows. "I dropped contact with her, I don't have her number, she's a nobody to me now .. just please let me, make up to you." He spoke stepping closer to you.

And he you were, on your bed, half necked, your shorts you were sleeping was tossed around your room somewhere while your panties were hanging on to your leg as jay sat head deep into your legs, you legs over his shoulders as his hands kept you legs from closing on his as he sucked your clit, humming as he sucked it, the vibrations causing you to moan as your toes would curl. As little gasps and whines came out your mouth, you forgot how good he felt and why you liked jay so much. No matter how bad he would treat you would stay and when you finally left him alone you really couldn't figure out why and now you do remember, it was how good he'd pleasure you, how good he'd make you come and wouldn't stop till he was done. And when he finished he would cuddle you, cradle you, caress the skin he bruised. That's why you liked him so much, no one has ever made you feel this good.

You whined saying his name with your eyes closed, you grabbed onto your nipples giving yourself extra pleasure as he kept going. He stopped sucking your swollen puffy clit to go lower sticking his tongue out to lick your wet slit, causing to gasp making your legs open wider wanting all of him, you missed how good is tongue felt on you pussy, you missed how filling his fingers alone felt. You couldn't make yourself feel as good as Jay could. No orgasm felt as good as the one Jay gave you and you hated that, now matter if you thought about sleeping with another man, it wouldn't feel ass good as it did with jay. The after care wouldn't feel as good as with jay, it was as of tho jay ruined it all for you abs you hated it.

But here you are, a moaning, whining mess as jay licked up your slick prepping to fuck you senseless, he pulled his face away from you cunt rubbing his middle finger into your slick spitting into it giving more slick to work with as he rubbing his finger into your pussy before shoving his finger causing you to gasp at the feeling of his cold digit being inside you, he wasted no time moving it inside and out of you watching you to see how you were feeling, a shit eating grin never failed to meet your gaze as he moved his finger faster with no warning you eyebrows knitted together you tried to keep eye contact your mouth agape before you head fell back and you finally spoke. "Fuck!" You dragged your word out as you found your hand rubbing your clit trying to clinch on his finger. He chuckled.

"Trying to come already baby? Haven't even put the second one in yet. You've missed my fingers this much ?" He spoke shaking his head taking his eyes off your face to you cunt who was damn sure ready for a second finger, he added it as you quickly shut your legs.. well tried to at least. "F .. uh .. ck!" You spoke trying to let it out in a small cry coming out instead. He chucked diving back into your cunt, going back to kissing and sucking on you clit as he fucked his fingers into you, pumping them hitting that spot that made you feel funny. "Yes, jay please don't stop." You whined putting your hand in his hair pulling it, he groaned causing vibrations making you clinch on his fingers as he kept pressing on your good spot. You already felt like the knot in your stomach was about to pop.

"Shit shit shit, jay! Please .. can I come." He pulled off you letting his finger slip out rubbing you clit as he stood up. He shook his head no, humming in a disapproval. "Not right now." He spoke kissing your lips, your slick on his lips and chin, he hummed into the kiss his pants strangling his hardened dick, it twitching in his sweats. He pulled back as he untied it. "Fuck I don't have a condom." You rolled your eyes. "You never have one." He chuckled pulling his pants down, including his underwear his dick springing out with precum leaking. "I'm starting to think you like the risk of cumming in me." He pulled in to kiss you his hand finding it way on your neck. "And you like it, you clench harder Everytime I think about trying to baby trap you." You both knew it was just the feeling of good sex playing a roll in his "threats." You knew jay had a breading kink, but he never dared to fill you up, even with as much begging as you did it was always no.

"You gonna fill me up tonight, make our last time a good one ? Leave me all messy?" He grabbed you by your neck kissing you harder you knew exactly what to do to turn him on, no matter how long it's been. "Turn around, ass up." He pulled back to watch you do so, you tried to take your oversized shirt on. "No, keep it on, I want to have something to pull on." You pouted. "But you have my hair?" He chuckled shaking his head. "Who said I can't have options?" He spoke watching you turn over ass up he walked closer to the bed pulling you to the edge, he put his fingers back into you as you grabbed his dick at stroking it as he pumped his fingers into you making you moan again. You your hand back towards your face into your mouth, spitting into your hand and pulling it back to his hardened member stroking it making him moan at the feeling of the mixture of spit and precum together. "Enough, move you hand." He spoke as you let go and he positioned himself slowing pushing himself in.

A gasp came out your mouth, you nearly forgot how painfully big his dick was, especially when he decided not go missionary, whining at the pain. "Ahh take it, I know you can ?" He spoke as you ran a little from it pushing your ass back down a little as he went down more and more finally hitting the base he gave you time to breath and get used to it. He was a monster after all.

He pulled back, as he started thrusting into you, your eyebrows knitted together as you let him fuck himself into you you lip bitten as you took it, getting used to his dick again you started to moan more freely, he grabbed your shirt, pulling on it as he started pounding into you as you moaned and whined his name like he liked it. "Wait- fuck! Y/n is this my shirt?" He spoke pounding into you, it was so dumb of  him to even try to keep a conversation with you especially in this position, you can never keep up a conversation in the position, he just felt so much deeper when your ass was up like this, you came the most in the position, made you biggest messes in the position. You hummed. "You know I .. fucking hate you not using your words!" He spoke pounding harder. You tried to speak. "Yes! I kept it- fuck! Fells s'good." You moaned. "Your dumb for my dick aren't you? Haven't even been long and here you are all whiny and creamy already on my dick." He groaned.

"And I bet you'd love to feel me feel you up to the brim too." He spoke going faster, your mouth fell agape as you felt so good. "Fuck yes!" You moaned. "So dumb for my cock huh baby? My little cock slut, not even your own fingers can make you feel this good huh?" You clenched on his dick you felt so close yet so far. "Let me here you say it?" He spoke slapping your ass. "Ah! Fuck.. you can only make feel this good jay!" He chuckled pulling on you hair and bring you closer. "Mhm, that's right my dumb slut, nobody can make you feel as good as jay can." His hand snaked around your neck softly squeezing your neck you felt yourself go dumb, you knew you were about to come whining.

"Please please please." You repeated in a whisper. "Please what?" He asked groaning in your ear. "Please let me come." Jay twitched hearing that, kissing your jaw as he felt you clench again. "I'm so, so close please!" He liked when you begged, he liked to see you a mess in general he couldn't help that. "Come baby, make a mess on my dick." He spoke letting you fall back on your knees slapping your ass as he kept going as just like that you whined cleaning on jay so hard he could've popped out. "Fuck." Jay spoke as your orgasm hit you, you started shivering as he kept going, jay kept thrusting, a ring forming around his dick he began to get sloppy, he went down toward you ear once you slightly calmed down from your orgasm. "Gonna let me fill you up? One good time." You nodded frantically, shaking still "god yes!" He chuckled as he kept going as you started moving your hips too.

"Flip over I need to see your face." And you did so, he took your legs and put one over his shoulder as the other was in his hand as he kept going. You rested your body on your elbows as you let him fuck you. You watched him go in and out of you as you met his eyes, your head falling back as you felt like you could come again just by his gaze you never wanted this to end. His thrust for so sloppy it’s was obvious he was about to come, slammed into you a few times as you came again, he did so groaning so loud, going faster. “Fuck yesss” he hummed as a mixture of both of your comes mixed together. “If you were my girlfriend I swear to god I would do this to you every night.” You were to high to even care about the stupid shit he just said. Feeling him pull out.

He fell back to his knees, as he starting to eating you out, pulling you back towards him as you whined as you made you feel good all over again, slurping up at your juices his nose hit your sensitive clit you cried out, you hand found a way to his messy hair again your thighs were definitely full at this point, you knew you were gonna have another orgasm, as he fucked his tongue into you, you cried. You were sure you loved him.

You vision became blurry as you trembled as your last and final orgasm hit. “God!” You moaned, legs shaky and your grasp on his head tighter then ever. He slurped it up one last time getting after and kissing you, you tired body wrapped your arms around him pulling him in as you made out. The taste of both of you in his and your mouth.

He cleaned you two up, as you sat in a cleaned bed, you leg wrapped over his legs as your arm was over his chest as you sat in silence as he caressed your leg. Nights like this is what you cherished, you did want to do it. But you knew it was needed.. this was the last time you saw him for sure. Or at least that’s what you wanted you woke up to him coming back with a plan B and breakfast giving you a soft kiss. And once again you crawled back to him.

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[totheblood]

I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.

pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader

warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie

a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.3k

"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."

The world was spinning.

Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night. 

It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk. 

“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you. 

“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”

“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke. 

“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”

“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.

She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed. 

A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.

But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes. 

“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”

“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”

Click. 

The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.

“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.

“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.

You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.

Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf. 

“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?” 

“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.

“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when- 

Click.

The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing. 

That night you went home with her. 

You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now. 

“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”

It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”

“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.

“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.

“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay. 

“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”

The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like. 

Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard. 

“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking. 

“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.” 

“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths. 

“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean. 

“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.

“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.

“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in. 

“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“But-”

“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”

“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”

She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.

“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”

“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”

It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer. 

“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”

“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”

“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”

“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.

“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”

“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.

“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”

“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”

“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped. 

“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off. 

---

The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement. 

No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car. 

You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl. 

“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”

Fuck.

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[love-toxin]

just read your latest billy fic and am now obsessed with the idea of billy babytrapping you and/or having a massive, unhinged breeding kink. in his mind you won't ever leave him if he gets you pregnant.

(please bear with my ramblings below)

billy obsessively tracking your cycle and going at it like rabbits when you're ovulating. sex that goes on for HOURS because he wants to get multiple loads inside of you, just to be sure. plugging you up afterward so all his cum stays inside. constantly telling you what a good parent you would be, and how beautiful your children would be because he's pretty, and you're pretty, so it just makes sense, right?

I really think he'd get so delusional about it. burying his face in your arousal and insisting he can tell you're fertile just by the smell/taste. bending down to whisper in your ear only to tell you how full and achey his balls are getting. leaving you little gifts but they're all pregnancy tests or baby clothes. forget whatever stage of a relationship or situationship you guys are in, he's starting a family with you. he'd get such an ecstatic glint in his eye when you finally tell him you're pregnant. don't get me started on the pregnant belly worship.

tl;dr if billy fucks me and I'm not sitting in a puddle of his cum afterwards, I don't want it‼️🗣

PRRRRRR!!!! yes. im into it. now u have to bear with MY ramblings

(cws: babytrapping, fem pronouns)

Feels like babytrapper Billy is an untapped gold mine--it's less that he wants a baby at first and mostly just that he wants control over you, but that switches up real fast when you actually get knocked up. When you actually wanna be sweet about it. Fussing about cribs and a nursery and having enough baby clothes, making him take you to the ultrasound appointments and actually getting a 'tude with him because he did this to you and now he's gonna have to deal with just as much as you have to carrying his baby.

But Billy ends up loving the shit out of it. He loves your attitude. He loves your mood swings. He loves your hormonal cravings and your tears when you throw up morning after morning. He loves holding your hair back and stuffing your bed full of pillows so you're comfortable, and he loves laying his head on your belly and hearing those little gurgles and feeling those little kicks from his baby.

At the same time, however, it makes him emotional. If this is how he feels before his baby is even here, then why would...how could his father ever treat him the way he does, and did? How could anybody do that to a kid? It makes him angry at himself for the way he was treated and the way he took that out on Max, too. He's got lots of apologies to make. Those experiences don't take up all his attention, though--he has a pretty partner to care for now, and having that to fill his time over bouncing from party to party and girl to girl just to feel something makes him unbelievably satisfied.

It honestly makes him glad that he never knocked anyone up accidentally leading up to when he met you. It had to be you, he knows that now. It had to be you that he coerced, begged, and fucked into submission to make you his, it had to be your womb that he wanted so badly to break and your pussy he wanted to risk going raw into. Wouldn't you just be the cutest with a baby, anyways? You're such a catch and you're so pretty. You'd make such adorable babies. It's obvious he never wanted to be one of those guys with a handful of baby mamas and kids he rarely sees; he wants you and your kids and that's it. It's official--you've hooked Hawkins' resident playboy into a dedicated partner and father, whether you wanted to or not.

If there's one thing he loves most about your pregnancy though, it's that he loves your neediness. He loves that something seems to click in you that makes you pine for the man whose seed you've sown, like there's an invisible connection between you two that pulls you both closer. It's like you're instinctually drawn to him and he hopes, god he hopes that continues after you've had the baby. He's ready to make love to a woman after she's had a child (after you've healed sufficiently, of course, he can wait) it's like that next stage of maturity for him. He can't wait to see how far you've come and how much you've sacrificed just to have his baby, and he can't wait to look you in the eyes and tell you he wants another. No, he doesn't want you to work off the baby weight first or fuss with your hair or your clothes to try and get back to looking like you were before. He wants you now. As you are. Raw. He's sick of those prissy party-girl snobs and their perfect bodies and their permed hair that they can't let get messed up. He wants the woman who stays up all night feeding his daughter and rolls her eyes at his flirting attempts in the morning. He's totally whipped, and even with those bags under your eyes and that tension headache behind his from the crying of his precious baby girl, he still wants another. And he's got ways of making sure that you do, too...after all, he got you into it the first time, right?

[gojoshooter]

hewoo! sorry for bothering u, but I'm just really into sukuita and humm... maybe u could write something about how sukuna loves to have his little brat yuuji sitting on his lap? just if u want of course! god I love those two so much😭💕

Suku-nii's Best Boy

an. with my returning sukuita fever i present you this lil hybrid fic ;) hope you like it @wukxon

Tiger!Cub Yuji in his big brother Tiger!Hybrid Suku-nii ’s lap, all sobby and snotty as he complains of his ongoing teething process.

-

The little Tiger!Cub Yuji had been found by his aniki on the kitchen floor, whines spilling out his tiny babbling mouth out of discomfort when Sukuna comes to check up on him.

Big brother Sukuna wasn't the type to hoist a little cub up on his hip and coo to lul him quite, instead just propping him up on his feet by his underarms so his little yuji stands in front of him instead. The action reduces the cub's sobbing into sniffling, as he peeps up at Suku-nii with big watery golden-brown eyes.

Sukuna bends his knees to come closer to his tiny brother's height, inspecting while pulling his cheek “Huh, what is it little snot?”

“...hurts” Yuji pouts, water brimming the brink of his doey eyes again when he projects baby arms towards his big brother, making grabby hands. “Chuku-nii... uwp” his pout too big for a more coherent sound.

Now—Tiger!Hybrid Sukuna knows he's a tough man, but he would rather die than not scoop his little brother Yuji who pleads his comfort so purely, which he does a moment and a sigh later. Sukuna saunters to the couch, bothered Yuji clutched to his side.

“Where does it hurt,” the little cub now seated in his lap, Sukuna wipes the tear streams off his little brother's fluffy-soft fat cheeks “tell me brat?” his tone softer than his words.

“Aa!!” Yuji opens his tiny mouth, an acusatory finger pointed towards his small buccal cavity. The bigger feline hums, taking the smaller one's face in his palms—thumbs pushing on the cheeks to pry open his mouth wider. Little pointy canines could be seen halfway out into joining the cub's set of teeth.

Sukuna frowns, gently pressing on one of the cub's canines causing Yuji to flinch away with an angry whine. The elder hums again in confirmation, cupping Yuji's sulky face and dragging it closer. He's teething—Sukuna concludes. The elder bounces his seated tiny body on his knees for distraction.

He brings a finger near the younger's mouth, pushing it slowly on the cub's lips for him to take. “We will get some toys for your sore jaw, 'dori.” he grins watching his troubled little Yuji who depends on him so much.

Tiger!Cub Yuji nibbles on his Aniki's finger, leaving small tents of his canines and droll on the skin. His tiny palm forgetting to loosen the grip to his Suku-nii's shirt.

Sukuna might have a hunch or so for why his little brother has gotten more attached to him rather than their any other relative or friend—who comprehensibly wanted Yuji's attention more than him,, but he never really understood.

Whatever the case... he has already grown affectionate to the stinkingly adorable and clingy brat in his lap for life is what he knows.

masterlist! sukuita hcs!

an. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AAAAA😭 hope y'all like it, thank you for reading, likes & rbs are appreciated <333

tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @dianagracesworld @pupkashi

[floshav]

part 2 to my last rodrick fic which u can read here !

summary: Rodrick proves his likeness for y/n through a spontaneous kiss leaving her smitten and dazed. However, thoughts of Heather still lingered in her mind, constantly being reminded of the blonde girl whenever she passed by. "Does Rodrick still like her?" "Does he even like me?" What happens when Heather suddenly takes interest in Rodrick after ignoring him for years just because she can't let y/n get what she wants.

wc: 2k plus

warnings: allusions to smut, heavy make out

2 weeks later...

the kiss, no not just the kiss but the two kisses rodrick and y/n shared that night resulted in their relationship. She had been left smitten and the feeling was one of those that even if you wanted to forget, you couldn't. The heart racing, blush inducing feeling of getting kissed on by rodrick the boy she'd been crushing on for years, with his rough boy lips which still managed to be soft and plush because well, he was Rodrick after all.

It was now a plain old Monday and she was lost daydreaming in her Calculus class, or was it english? She couldn't bother to take notice.

"Alright, take out your calculators and flip to page 56. We'll be grinding through the workbook today class!" Ms. Smith yelled whilst her big buggy glasses fell down the tip of her nose bridge, stopped by her finger which shoved them back in place. Y/n couldn't care less. Her mind was swarmed with what happened 2 weeks ago.

His lips grazed hers one more time, this time softer and one might say more lovingly if she was in a state of delirium. She felt his slender hand creep up the side of her hip brushing it against her shirt so so gently. He broke off the kiss and his face was so close to hers she felt as if she might faint right then and there. The boy who was rough, impatient and borderline rude crumbled in-front of her. She'd never seen Rodrick like this before. Each freckle, each fine line, each perfect imperfection visible to her now. She'd imagined this image thousands of times before, but never had she imagined it to come true. Rodrick hesitated before saying his next words "I- I really like you y/n. And- and i just want to set that clear before you try showing up to my house drunk silly again. You were being so wreck less you know that?" He chuckled dorky-ly ever so slightly which made her heart pound just a little harder. Her heart fluttered at how he cared for her.

"M'sorry I-i just, m'just so jealous." She slurred as her eyes began to tear up with a mix of happiness, jealousy, anger and most of all, sadness. "Why? You know i'm here for you and you only, stupid." Rodrick whispered so softly against her lips but y/n's mind swarmed with confusion. "B-but you always *hiccup* talk about Heather." She sighed as she let herself fall into her hands. "Makes it *hiccup* hard to believe" She said again. "I-" He moves further back and a familiar ache rises to her chest, one of abandonment. "She was just someone I was infatuated in. Nothing more. Fuck. If i really liked her, would i have kissed you back? Let alone kiss you again?" He said making eye contact this time. He looked absolutely illegal. The way his hair was his usual mess, his blown out eyeliner smudged beneath his fox eyes. His puffy lips. Everything about him made her feel unreasonably hot in the cool weather. "S-so no more feelings for her?" "No. no more." he said so seriously it made her scared. "In fact, she's an asshole and i don't want any part of her in my life." He said whilst memories of what Heather did earlier fled his mind. Rodrick plants a kiss at the corner of y/n's lips and this time she knows it was meant lovingly. Still, at the back of her mind, the one aching question lingered, didn't he say he loved her?

"Y/n?" "Ms y/n?" She blinked and the memory was interrupted by an annoying voice. "Do you care to open your workbook? Or do you intend on staring at the cover for the next hour?" Ms Smith's breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck waking her from her daydreams of what happened that hazy night.

"Yea, sorry ms smith." She smiled tightly before flipping to page 66 or 57 the page number was was a blur to her, but an open book would do.

He planted a soft kiss at the crook of her neck.

suddenly her mind wandered to what happened later that night.

Hand riding up under her shirt. "is this okay?" His voice was earnest and soft against the skin of her neck.

her thighs clenched together unintentionally and she felt ashamed for imaging such lewd things. She'd been daydreaming about that night for the past few weeks. Each week making her crave for more until she felt sick. Rodrick hadn't made a move like that on her ever since, and she was just too shy to even ask so images in her mind would do for now.

He unclasped her bra in one swift motion and it made her question if he'd done this before, with... Heather? No, can't be, she doesn't even care for him. Right?

The kissing started to turn into making out and y/n felt his breathing falter when she brushed her pinky against his crotch by accident.

"Fuck do you even know what you're doing right now-"

"Ms. y/l/n!" Just as quickly as it started, her daydreaming had come to a halt.

"I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes. Care to share your answer to the whole class? I assume you didn't even hear the question number i gave you. Number 5! Now." Ms. Smith tried to hush her yelling down to be more precarious.

"Sorry Ms." Y/n sighed before making her way to the black board with a dumb empty mind filled with Rodrick.

------------------

The same could be said about Rodrick. His usual sleepiness that was met with classes vanished ever since that night. Instead of sleeping, he was putting his pretty dumb brain to use by thinking. Thinking about y/n. Every night, everyday, every moment. He'd be lying if he said that she was the only girl he'd ever gained feelings for, because Heather Hills did exist. But it was true when he said he didn't like her anymore.

"Mmm- Aaah- R-rodrick p-please not my neck."

"Shhh, just one more kiss y/n, please."

"F-fuck!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUC-"

Before Rodrick's dream could get any steamier he was awoken to the sound of Heather cursing just beside him, clearly to get someone's attention.

"FUCK! how am i going to do this!!!" Heathers voice was painfully exaggerated and Rodrick couldn't help but cringe. Was this the girl he was smitten by before?

"Oh- Hey Roddy!" Heather smirked as she twisted her body to face him.

Rodrick's head was rested on his arm and he couldn't help but look at her with dead eyes, clearly annoyed.

"You.... you play the drums right?"

"Mmm" Rodrick groaned as he scratched his temple, he was surprised at how much he didn't care for THE Heathers presence anymore.

"Was wondering if.... You'd wanna play a gig at my birthday party?"

Rodrick's eyes lit up. A gig? That was a once in a blue moon occasion to rodrick's ears. But reality struck him when he remembered it was Heather who was asking.

"Mmm sorry Heather, don't think i can." Though it ached him to decline the gig, he knew you wouldn't like it so he sucked it up. Rodrick felt a sense of pride when he realised he didn't stumble over his words around her anymore.

"Awwww but why! I'll pay you 50 bucks an hour, and you know my parties last long." She feigned a girly voice as she batted her long eyelashes which icked Rodrick out.

50 bucks an hour..... The offer was tempting but, you were even more tempting.

Before Rodrick could answer, you walked in the class with a goofy smile, ready to see your Rodrick with..... Heather.

Heather shot back daggers through a fake soft smile. The type she'd give to a teacher after almost being caught doing something.

"Oh... Hello there y/n! Sorry, Rodrick was just telling me about how he'd love to play drums at my party. Isn't that right Rodrick?"

"Wh- No?" Rodrick scoffed out, eyes squinting at the mischievous blue eyed blonde.

"Oh c'mon, don't lie to y/n just because you pity her! You're a man! Act like one." Heather said as she got up from her chair slightly agitated at the fact Rodrick didn't play along.

"See you there Roddy." Heather said before smirking and popping out her ass dramatically.

roddy... That nickname made y/n's blood boil and she never wanted to hear it again.

"I swear! I-I did not agree to any of the shit she just yapped about." Rodrick panicked whilst stumbling over his words like a nervous teenager, that familiar feeling rising again but this time towards y/n.

"Hard to believe Rodrick. Or should i say Roddy... God! i shouldnt have been so naive. I'm so stupid! I thought you were over her." Y/n lashed out before storming out the classroom in a hurry, not thinking straight.

"Wait! Fuck. That fucking bitch Heather." Rodrick sighed out as he reached for the class door.

You found yourself slanting against a crusty brick wall beside a half broken vending machine. You don't know why you overreacted so fast without even bothering to hear Rodrick's explanation but maybe it was because you were so stupidly insecure. You quickly fumbled around your pants pockets to find an old packet of ciggs you remembered you left there. There were 2 left so you lit one up and breathed in the pure comfort. It felt nice to not care just for a second with the cigarette around. When it could have gotten more peaceful you heard a set of obnoxious dorky feet approach you.

"Hey." Rodrick said lightly as he squatted down to your eye level, lanky hands hanging by each sides of his knees.

It made you jump a little and your facade of wanting to remain mad slowly revealed itself. You couldn't help but suppress a tight smile from leaking out.

"What" You said as you blew a whiff of smoke away from his face. His heart fluttered at the small gesture.

"I really did not agree to what Heather told you." He said seriously which was a rare look on Rodrick.

"Are you sure? Cuz it seems like you two are getting along just fine" Y/n sighed as she pushed her hair back, Rodrick's heart beat pounding harder by the second.

"Please, believe me I- I really did not agree to anything, I-I really want you to believe me please." Rodrick was pleading which was something she only saw when he was lovesick. At that moment she knew he couldn't harm her emotionally.

"Alright. Fine, I believe you." Y/n said with a tired voice, though deep down she was glad she could read Rodrick like an open book.

"Im so sorry." Rodrick sighs before nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, still a nervous wreck whenever he handled her.

She releases her cig and reaches in to hug him back tightly and lovingly before breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. Far better than a cig.

Just around the corner was a cheeky little Heather, listening in to every single decibel of the convo. Heather tightly rolled her eyes and scoffed before it turned into a smirk. Something clicked in her head. She knew what she had to do.

She was going to fake it till she made it.

---------------------------

lol i feel like this story deserves a pt3 so if this does well i will continue it! I know this has been a long times worth of progress but i've been procrastinating writing like crazy lately and i've only started getting back into it. Anyway please do request because i'm always bored and free !