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celestie0 · 24 days

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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

426 notes · View notes

f1byjessie · 3 months

Text

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part three.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 314,691 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris

yourusername is it time for bahrain yet?! can’t wait to see these two back in action again soon! 🧡

view all 4,981 comments

mclaren We keep asking ourselves the same thing! Our engines are ready and we’re raring to go! 🧡

↳ yourusername you truly understand me mclaren admin

↳ mclaren we think you’re the one who truly understands us y/n

↳ user y/n x mclaren admin?? 🤯 the plot twist none of us saw coming

user missing these lads so much lately

user THE RADIO SILENCE ON OSCAR’S SOCIALS WAS KILLING ME I DEPEND ON THESE MEN TOO MUCH THEY KEEP ME ALIVE 😭😭

user the f1 drought is real rn

user MCLAREN SUPREMACY 2024

↳ user i’m trying to be delulu but we all know it’s just gonna be the mv33 and redbull show again this year 🫤

user soooo are we all just gonna pretend like we didn’t see the pics of her with garrett ward orrrrr?

↳ user no bc i was just thinking the same thing 👀

↳ user wait that was actually her??? cuz you can like barely see her face so i thought it was just a joke???

user what a fake ass bitch

user she only posts other ppl on her acc cuz she knows her ugly ass face would scare everyone else away

user homegirl needs to stay tf away from my man fr 😤😤

user god what a hoe 😒 she already has these two that she could fuck with idk why she needed to go after garrett

user SLUT SLUT SLUT

user if she tries anything with anyone else on the city team i’m gonna lose my shit fr

↳ user same omg

↳ user honestly i’m just glad she didn’t go after grealish or haaland 🙌

↳ user she probably would’ve tried if they weren’t taken already 🙄

↳ user nah i bet she’s totally a homewrecker garrett’s probably just the first on her list

user oh… these comments… 😰

↳ user right???

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mancity, mclaren, and 198,131 others

tagged: mancity

yourusername the city boys know how it’s done! and looking pretty good in orange too 😉

view all 3,971 comments

mancity The lads are looking good indeed! This weekend’s match against Newcastle should be an exciting one! ⚽️🩵

mclaren ✍️ Jeremy ✍️ Doku ✍️ and ✍️ Ruben ✍️ Dias ✍️ McLaren ✍️ 2025

↳ mancity Do you think Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri would look good in sky blue? 🤔

user funny how she posts every city man BUT garrett

user god when does she go back to f1??

↳ user march iirc

↳ user well it can’t get here soon enough jfc

user FUCK OFF WE DON’T WANT YOU

user you’re a slag and should accept the fact that any guy would only want you bc of how easy you are

user i’ll bet my left leg that the only reason the f1 boys haven’t shacked up with her yet is cuz they know she’s probably riddled with disease since she drools over every guy that comes near her 😒 like girl needs to bffr and realize that throwing herself at every male in her vicinity isn’t gonna land her a husband and it just making her even more of a slut

↳ user nah i’ll bet they’ve all already done her over in f1 but nobody will touch her now that they’ve passed her round so she had to come over to football just to try and get someone to touch her again 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope garrett realizes how much of a slut she is and breaks up with her

user sick and tired of bitches like this getting with footballers and being all controlling. like i’ll bet she’s gonna tell garrett he can’t go out and party with his mates anymore bc he has to spend time in with her and then she’ll get all pissy about him having female fans bc she’s insecure and knows that if garrett got to meet a REAL fan he’d jump ship immediately. those of us who ACTUALLY care about footballers know their fans are super important to them and we wouldn’t hinder their relationship with them just bc we’re jealous or insecure. garrett needs to be with someone who actually supports him and is willing to let him do what he wants instead of controlling him like he’s a dog on a leash.

user kys like genuinely

user god i can’t wait for this skank to die 😒

“Hey Lando, it’s me. Your best friend. Again,” you give a humorless chuckle. “I could seriously use some of your wizened advice right about now, so, uh, please just give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

It seems poetic in a cruel sort of way that less than a week ago you were walking Etihad Campus and feeling like you were on top of the world━ working a new albeit temporary gig, adding the Manchester City name to your list of clients, having photos of world-renowned footballers in your portfolio━ and now you’ve resigned yourself to hiding away in the women’s restroom, locked in a stall because it’s the only place you could think of where nobody would be able to find you.

You’re on the verge of tears and feeling rather stupid for it.

It’s the third time today alone that your call has gone straight to voicemail, and with the dozens of unread texts you’ve sent in the last week added to the mix, it’s starting to paint a picture you’re not very happy with. Lando is ignoring you. Or he’s blocked you. Or he’s blocked you because he’s ignoring you━

You bite down on your lip, hard, to keep back the sob crawling its way up your throat.

You’re not a PR officer, you hadn’t been lying when you told Garrett that, but you’ve spent enough time around the McLaren PR teams that you’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know, at the very least, that the best thing you can do is just ignore the comments.

That’s what they tell all the athletes.

What they don’t tell the athletes is that ignoring the comments is much easier said than done, especially when your career requires you to have such a significant online presence. And the thing is, despite all of these strangers hounding you with every name under the sun and criticizing your capabilities, qualifications, and very existence, the thing that hurts the most is the radio silence from the only person you know could make it all better.

Now, more than ever, you need your best friend. But he isn’t here.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and unlock the stall with great reluctance. You know better than to be hiding away, shirking your responsibilities while crying over a few missed phone calls. You have a job to do, and a real professional wouldn’t let something as simple as a handful of tasteless comments get in the way of that.

You should be used to them. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Your first month at McLaren wasn’t entirely different.

When you were first hired on, Carlos had been in Formula One for a handful of years already and had built up a devotedly loyal fanbase with a decently large percentage of possessive fangirls who had come for your head the moment your existence had been announced.

The McLaren Instagram account had posted a picture of you standing between their two grinning drivers, your camera strung around your neck, with a very nice caption welcoming you to the team, and despite no indication that you were by any means involved with either of them in a way that went beyond professional, the comments had been taken over by feral teenage girls who saw the act of you simply standing near Carlos to be a direct threat against their “chances.”

Though it had been frustrating being met with childish threats and petty insults in your comments, you hadn’t really held it against any of them. You remember being a teenage girl and crushing on a celebrity. Deep down you knew you never had a chance with them, but that hadn’t stopped you from hanging posters in your bedroom and doodling their name beneath yours inside of scribbled hearts in your diary.

Regardless, it had taken close to a month for the negativity to die down, and you hadn’t had Lando then, either, so now shouldn’t be much different.

In fact, everyone on the Manchester City team━ trainers, physios, media coordinatiors, and anyone inbetween━ has been very polite about everything between you and Garrett. A lot of them have just avoided saying anything about it, which you’re very grateful for because you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your grimace while thanking them for their well wishes, and the few who have mentioned it typically only say something vague like a wishing you the best of luck or hoping you’re happy.

An intern gave you a sympathetic smile the other day, and you’d nearly burst into tears in the middle of the office of the Director of Communications, so you know you aren’t truly alone in this.

You just feel alone.

Exiting the bathroom is a simple affair. There’s no one standing post outside ready to give you any shit for being hidden away, and nobody comes sprinting around the corner as you make your way down the hall to the press conference room that’s been temporarily turned into your base of operations.

You think you’ll probably be able to go the rest of the afternoon without running into anyone, when you open your door and find━ sitting in the front row of the seats typically saved for journalists and the press, scrolling across his phone with a disinterested look painted across his face━ Jack Grealish.

“Jack,” you greet, a bit shocked. You close the door to the room gently behind you, and cross the distance to your desk. “Did we have a meeting scheduled? It must’ve completely slipped my mind, I sincerely apologize.”

He offers you a polite smile. “No, we didn’t, so no need to be sorry. I actually just wanted to check in. See how things are going with everything.”

You blink at him in surprise. Apart from Garrett, you haven’t really had much time to speak with the other players. They wish you good morning and good afternoon when they see you, and if a ball goes astray they always call out for you to watch your head, but between their morning training and their afternoon training, their strategy reviews at lunch, and the frequent in between meetings with physios, nutritionists, and trainers, they don’t get much time to chit chat with a simple photographer.

You clear your throat, “Erm, it’s going well. I’ve gotten some really good shots these past few days. There’s one with Rodrigo that I’m particularly proud of. It should do well with the fans.”

“And things with Ward?”

You purse your lips.

“Figured.” Jack sighs. “Look, nearly everyone you run into here knows or has at least some inkling into what he’s like. He’s a prick. None of the lads on the team like him, it’s why the managers are trying to get him out of here.”

You lower yourself down into your chair. “He told me they were planning to trade him off because of his reputation.”

Jack scoffs, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the ‘official’ reason. They can’t cut his contract early for legal reasons, so they’re waiting for it to expire and coming up with an excuse for why they ain’t re-signing him. It’s really just ‘cause the rest of us can’t keep dealing with his massive ego and the fact that he’s a misogynistic fuck who doesn’t know the first thing about respect.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you mutter with a sigh.

If he expected you to defend Garrett and is surprised by the fact that you haven’t, Jack doesn’t show it. He looks relaxed sitting across from you, like you’re having a casual conversation and not actively shit talking a member of his team. It gives you the impression that he knows significantly more about Garrett than you do, and that because of what he knows he probably figured out that one party in the relationship is not the most willing of participants.

“How’d you get all wrapped up it in then? Didn’t figure you to be the type to go after pricks like Ward.”

You debate over whether you should tell him or not. There isn’t much Jack can do about the situation regardless, but it would at least get things off your chest and if someone else knew then maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

There’s only so many days you can spend hiding out in the women’s restroom trying not to bawl your eyes out, and you’ve already reached your limit.

You heave a sigh, “It’s kind of fucked up really.” A pen on your desk catches your attention and you start to fiddle with it, avoiding Jack’s eyes which have focused directly onto you. “He asked if I would help him fix up his reputation by pretending to be his girlfriend so he could show everyone that he’s matured and can hold down a steady relationship. When I told him no, he threatened to make up a lie about inappropriate conduct to get me fired and blacklisted from the industry, so for the sake of preserving my career I agreed.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m real sorry he did that, Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s happened, so, there’s nothing I can really do except wait it out at this point.”

When you look up and meet his gaze, Jack looks murderous. His hands are clenched into fists on the armrests, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are twisted downward in a scowl.

“If you need anything,” he starts, “let me know. And I mean it. We all know how Ward can be. He’s a knobhead. So if you need anything━” his emphasis on the word and what that implies makes you feel more comforted than anything has since the whole fiasco started, “━then you let me know, or you tell one of the other boys and they’ll find me, alright?”

All you can do is nod.

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry

━━ a/n: no lando yet, but we've got a cutesy little grealish scene to make up for it because i couldn't have a story with manchester city and not include him! lowkey writing this part made me wanna write for a footballer too... anyways! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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improbable-outset · 2 months

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📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

I think it’s about time I post the SFW version of this HC collection. Just like the NSFW version, I’m going to try and make this as accurate to his character as possible while putting my own input too. I wrote the NSFW back in September so there might be some HC that will be slightly different. My interpretation on Miguel’s character will evolve.

Also since the NSFW alphabet was written with a gn Reader, it’s only fair I do the same here too. Fair warning, going through these head cannons is NOT going to be a walk in the park 😭 just a heads up

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

📄 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

There’s a lot to cover here but I’m going to try my best to summarise this headcanon. Given the fact that Miguel has experienced a complex family dynamic in the comic books, especially from his mother ridiculing him, I think he’ll have a hard time expressing affection

And on top of that, he’s been isolating himself to keep the multiverse in balance. So having receiving affection like that will be foreign to him since it’s not something he grew up with

I mean you could point out that he showed Gabriella devotion and affection as a father because he didn’t want her to experience the same shitty childhood he did growing up

After the dimension collapse, he’s more closed off and reserved. It’ll take a lot of effort to build that trust in someone again and openly express his emotions

Going back to his background now, even after Miguel tried to fix his relationship with his mother, he was always brushed off and was seen as self-centered. This would definitely reflect in his relationship having grown up being misunderstood

📄 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think this depends heavily on the timeline on when you actually meet him. We’ve all seen the post credit scene in the first movie when he was testing out the gizmo for the first time

I know we've only seen a glimpse of his character but I can’t imagine him being as cold and bleak back then as he is now, after he broke the canon

That being said, I think it would’ve been easier to be friends with him back then. Sure, he would’ve been a sarcastic asshole sometimes (affectionate) but at least he wasn’t closed off and easily irritated as he is now during ATSV

But if you’ve met him after the incident of Gabriellas’s dimensions collapse, let’s just say it’ll be a rocky road. It’ll take a while for him to break that outer shell (do not underestimate when I say a while). I think Jess is probably the only person that could get through to him, possibly Peter too.

It’ll take time. It’ll always take time… you can understand why he’s angry and stressed

📄 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

We can collectively agree that this man is touch starved and I don’t just mean sexually. As much as he hates to admit it

Once you both made your relationship official, it’ll be you that would rest on his chest first whenever you would need comforting. He’s used to being relied on— whether it’s serving his partner or when leading the Spider Society— not the other way around. He can’t bring himself to be dependable on someone just yet

But later on, when he does break down that barrier and swallow his pride for once, you’ll get him to rest on you. Initially he does deny that he needs such comfort but if you coax him enough, he’ll give in

He’ll be stiff at first with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him, but with each passing second he slowly relaxes his muscles under your embrace

Sooner or later, he’s melted under you and if you're lucky, he’ll fall asleep. Poor guy needs a break

📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Deep down, underneath that hard exterior he secretly desires to settle down with someone. He yearns to come home to someone that will be excited to see him and just be present in his life. I haven’t read the comics yet so I’m basing this off ATSV Miguel but, he hasn’t experienced anything like that. I feel like he has fantasised to be in Peter B Parker’s shoes a few times where he can go home to a family

He’s grown accustomed to coming home to an empty apartment with nothing but his AI assistant to keep him company. But just because he’s used to it, doesn’t mean he likes it that way

After he lost Gabriella, the gravity of his loneliness really hit him. Especially given the fact that it wasn’t his official family, it was his variant’s and he was just replacing him

The grief still stayed though. He knows he’s never going to have that family again and now he’s back to everything being hollow

Once he does finally get to settle down I can imagine him struggling to adjust to his new lifestyle, now that he’s living with his partner

At first he’s barely home, always in HQ and busting his ass keeping everything in order because that’s what he’s used to

But after he realises his old habits, he tries to amend himself. He’ll try and put more effort in domestic tasks just to be around you more. Sure, he still has that underlying stress and he’s still getting used to not being cooped up in his office. But that feeling will subside once his habits change

📄 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think this depends on who’s at fault here, the reason why your relationship has ended. But it’ll highly likely be because of Miguel’s overworking habits and not putting priority on the people he cares about

Sure the multiverse is important but he can get another Spider Person like Jess or Peter to take care of it while he takes a break. But he doesn’t

Throughout your relationship, you try to help him change his habits and his routine so he can live a healthy and more fulfilling life. Even grow a family together if that’s what you want. Unfortunately there’s only so much you can do and everything just feels like one step forward, two steps back— even after you communicate that with him and give him so many chances

He’s probably too blinded by his stress to even realise the harm he’s causing in your relationship. He finally gets that wake up call when he comes home to see you pack your bags

It’s up to you where you want to go from there…

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I know in the comics, he did propose to Dana and as much as I’d love to see him as a husband and be his pretty little housewife, he can’t make that sort of commitment unless he heals from his past

If he wants something solid with a healthy and long lasting marriage, he needs to sort himself out otherwise there will be consequences later on down the line. Unresolved emotional baggage can lead to him being emotionally distant and unexpected outbursts

Even if he doesn’t mean to hurt you, there’s still a part of him that’s still wounded and he’ll bleed onto people that don’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his heated outlet. He needs to be able to be open with his partner if he wants to commit to them

Didn’t expect this sort of turn lol. It will take time but I think Miguel might want to settle down and if he truly wants it to happen, he’ll put in the effort

📄 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Miguel knows that he is a big man and he��s aware of his strength which is why he’s always careful with you. Obviously the last thing he wants is to hurt you physically

However, when it comes to emotional, I think he’s the one that needs to be handled with care. Like I mentioned before, he’s living a post tragedy so it will be hard for him to be vulnerable at first

There are times where he’ll have outbursts but he’ll never in a million years resort to hurting you. He’ll regret even reaching his tipping point afterward though. You don’t deserve that when all you’ve been doing was looking out for him

📄 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I wouldn’t say he’s much of a hugger. Not openly anyways. He’s not good with PDA and would rather show his affection, both physical and emotional, privately

But if you do initiate the hug, he wouldn’t refuse. He probably needs it anyways. He would slowly wrap his arms around you and gently embrace you. I think he does squeeze a little after

With his big broad arms, he can easily wrap around your body. His hugs are warm and they always make you feel secure in his arms. His height makes it easy to envelope you too

📄 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Oh boy….I could see this go either two ways.

One: he’ll either have a barrier around himself that will prevent himself from being emotionally vulnerable to avoid getting hurt. So he would have a hard time expressing his love vocally but will show you through other ways like act of service or being protective over you. He won’t directly say I love you unless you initiate it first.

Or two: he’s so distraught from his grief that the fear of loss still lingers. So he’ll take every chance he can get to remind you that he loves you with all his heart

“Te amo mucho.” “Te quiero.” “Eres el amor de mi vida.”

There’s that underlying fear that he’ll lose you, either by being snatched away from him like Gabriella or you’ll leave him one day. But at least you’ll know how much you mean to him while you were together. That will give him a sense of ease

Either way, both situations are driven by his tragic past. Though personally, I’d prefer the latter

📄 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think Miguel’s jealousy will stem from the fear of loss again and the desire for stability in the relationship. Sure, he has support from his colleagues from the Society but that’s not the same as receiving devotion and love from a romantic partner

And because of that, he’ll be more vigilant about perceived threats to your relationship, driven by the fear of losing you. The vigilance could exhibit as jealousy if it means preserving that special emotional connection you both share and a tinge possessive over you too. It’s possible that this could be a defence mechanism for him after everything he’s been through

Not saying that he doesn’t trust you or anything, but I know that he will give anybody a death glare if they even look at you the wrong way. He knows his height and physique can be intimidating. This does go hand in hand with security that we will cover more on later

📄 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Awhh my absolute favourite prompt. I know Miguel loves kissing his partner on the forehead, giving his height and all. It’s just so sweet and tender and he’ll probably do it throughout the day when he can’t vocally express his love

He loves watching you try kiss his cheek especially if you’re shorter and stuggling to reach. He just finds it so endearing. He’ll bend a little so you could reach his face and peck his cheek of course. He loves your kisses too

The first time you both shared your first kiss was after the third or forth date. He bent over to reach your eye level while you lifted your head up

He held your face gently and titled his head before he leaned in. God bless Kris Anka for giving this man such smoochable lips by the way

📄 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

You would think that after he lost his daughter, Miguel would be eager to be a father again. He would love to have children of his own.

Yeah…think again. I don’t think he’ll agree that easily. You can’t tell me that the idea of having children again wouldn’t trigger some sort of relapse. He’ll either think he wouldn’t be a good father or he wouldn’t want to replace Gabriella.

Call me bleak, but he just watched his daughter disappear in his arms (and committed omnicide) and is left emotionally traumatised.

Even if we all know he’s not at fault and he was unaware of the consequences at the time, that’s not going to stop him from blaming himself.

Initially he would probably abstain from having children until you came into his life. Seeing your character, not only as a partner but your personality in general, will probably shift his perspective a little

The thought of being the father to your children will probably motivate him into being better for your sake. He can’t imagine having children with anyone else now especially seeing the way you interact with other babies like Mayday

An added bonus if you’re carrying his child. He will place his hand on your bump to feel the baby kick and I think that momentary bond with his unborn baby will resonate with him.

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Morning routines can be pretty peaceful, especially with you around now. Waking up next to you makes everything better for him ten folds

He’s usually the first to wake up (no surprise) and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day

By the time you’re up he’s already in the kitchen. Unless you’re an early riser too. Before you got together, he’s breakfast would consist of instant coffee and maybe a toast if he’s lucky

But now with you around, you make sure he has a proper meal before he starts his day. And he has noticed that he’s more alert and aware after a nutritional breakfast. He’ll always be grateful for that

📄 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Night routines aren’t as blissful though. There are some nights where he wouldn’t be home, probably in another dimension tackling an anomaly again. It comes to no surprise being in a relationship with a superhero

But that doesn’t make it any less lonely for you. Your heart does ache for him and you’re always worried about his safety. Some missions take days and it’s hard to predict when he’ll be back home

But when you finally do get to share a night together, things are more content. You would either spend the evening cooking together or watching a movie. Either way, you’re grateful that he’s safe at home

📄 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Initially, Miguel was reluctant on expressing himself with you. He doesn’t want to put his burden on you even though he constantly remind him that you’re his partner. You’re there to support him, yet he still insists that he’s fine

And because he bottles everything in, his behaviour is effected whenever you’re together. Easily irritated, uncharacteristically quiet and only giving one word answers

He quickly realises that keeping everything in is doing your relationship more harm than good and you’re only getting hurt in the process

Slowly but surely, he eventually opens up, revealing layers of himself to you overtime. This could include sharing his past, his fears and his dreams which builds a deeper connection between the two of you

📄 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

You know, the first time I was introduced to Miguel, I saw him as a ticking time bomb. Ready to burst any second. But it didn’t take long to realise his perspective on things

The only reason he was pissed off in the movie was because he was challenged. Imagine busting your ass trying to keep the multiverse in order so you wouldn’t have to repeat one of the biggest mistakes you’ve done and then someone comes in and puts it at risk

Sure, the way he acted out was uncalled for but like I mentioned before, unresolved emotional baggage

However, when if comes to his partner, he’ll put more effort into being more patient with things. Building that trust and intimacy will take time but it’ll be worth it. When it comes to your relationship, he’ll avoid rushing into expectations and let things happen organically

I know he’ll be good when it comes to respecting boundaries, especially the fact that there will be moments where he would want to be alone to collect himself. He will know you would follow through and it’s only fair that he would respect any of your wishes too

📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think he’s pretty good when it comes to remembering what you like. I know that later on in the relationship, he’d love to learn more, what makes you tick, the good and the bad, and what will instantly boost your mood. I wouldn’t say he would remember the nitty gritty details about you but he will remember the important things.

It’s the least he can do after everything you’ve done for him and giving him the safe space he needs

However, he’s not very good when it comes to keeping up to date with special events. I’ll get into more details later on so you can understand where I’m coming from

📄 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

This is going to sound a little corny but Miguel’s favourite memory with you is when he finally built the courage to be emotionally vulnerable with you for the first time

You can imagine how this was a massive step since it’s all foreign to him. He was hesitant when he was venting to you for the first time, with his head resting on your lap and your hands running through his hair

That was when he felt the weight being lifted from his shoulder. Being a leader and having people rely on him for everything was draining but you saw past all of that. You managed to see the man inside him after unravelling the hard exterior. A momentary bliss in his blaring background noise of his life

That was the first time he realised he had found his person. Someone who saw the gray instead of seeing things as black and white

📄 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Being a superhero and a leader of an elite force, Miguel will naturally be protective over you. His commitment to you also means keeping you safe from any danger not just as a civilian but as a devoted lover too

This also ties in to his fear of loss just as I mentioned earlier about his jealousy. Except this extends beyond mere jealousy with a genuine desire to shield you from harm

There are different ways he will express his protective nature such as creating a safe space for you or anticipating potential threats that could put you at risk before it could even happen

📄 𝐓𝐫𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Does this man put effort into your relationship…

You guys might hate me for making him look like a terrible partner. I’m just trying to be realistic here… but I think he won’t be best when it comes to remembering special events like anniversaries, birthdays and whatnot. It’s not that he doesn’t try

This guy is literally dimension hopping throughout his daily routine at work as well as keeping the Spider Society together.

I know that going to different dimensions is probably gonna fuck up with his internal clock and he’ll lose track of the days very easily

I’m not trying to make excuses for him or anything. He’s a busy man and overworked (like I didn’t reiterate that enough). But if it really upsets you, I think you should really communicate with him. Remind him of those special days because I know it’ll probably slip his mind. If he cares about you he should try to make time for you, right?

But on the other hand, he might even surprise you when you least expect it. You’ll probably assume that he’ll be in another dimension that special day and you come home to see him surprise you with gifts and such. I can imagine that happening too

📄 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Wouldn’t really call this ugly but this is a huge flaw that isn’t talked about enough

After the broken canon incident we already know he’s left traumatised but I think he has some untreated PTSD too and he refuses to get the help he needs

He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘broken leader’ (his words maybe) when he has so many people from the Society relying on him (toxic perfectionism?)

Unfortunately for him, if he doesn’t tackle these issues now, it will affect his relationship in the long run

📄 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think we can all agree that Miguel naturally does put effort in his look, whether he’s single or not. He’s clean shaven and his hair is slick back everyday. So I can imagine a morning routine with him making himself look good. And I think he knows he looks good too

But when it comes to going out on dates and stuff, he will definitely put more effort in his appearance

I can see him asking Lyla for advice on what to do on the first date and how to make himself look more presentable, especially if you’re someone he wants to take seriously. He’s a little rusty with these things but he’s a quick learner too

📄 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I can’t see Miguel having the whole “my partner is my other half” belief. I think it’s an overstatement to him.

But if you’re both compatible enough, he will be aware that you bring out the best in him. Whenever he’s on the verge of overworking or overly stressed out, you’re always there to keep him grounded and give him the pep talk he needs to hear. He’s never been supported and loved while simultaneously reprimanded for his bad habits like this

Without you he realises that he’s a mess but now that you’re here, he has that drive to be better not just for the sake of your relationship, but for himself too. He has somebody special to look forward to seeing after work now

So sure, his partner doesn’t make him ‘whole’ but you do make him a better man and that’s all he needs

📄 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Finally, I can say something wholesome about this man. So I know that he has a personal gym near HQ where he would train and keep in shape.

I have a strong feeling that he enjoys it when his partner watches him work out. It’s a serious ego booster for him. At first he was a little weirded out that you would just stare, it wasn’t something he wasnt used to, but now he loves it when you admire him from afar.

It gives him that extra motivational boost to do better. He loves it when you steal quick kisses between each sets too.

Speaking of which, you can’t tell me that one scene in the movie when he flawlessly destroyed those grenades from the vulture that he didn’t do it with a smirk under his mask. He knew he ate that.

📄 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Something that he wouldn’t like in his partner. I can’t lie, it was pretty hard to pinpoint with this one but after brainstorming, I think I know what he wouldn’t like

This might be controversial since this trope is pretty popular but I don’t think the whole sunshine x grumpy trope will work with him

Maybe in a different universe where he’s not responsible for the stability of the multiverse, something that is a life and death situation, while leading the Spider Society and already has a lot on his plate. But unfortunately that’s his life now. He’s given up too much to stop now

The last thing he needs is a partner who’s overly optimistic and doesn’t see from his perspective. The fate of the multiverse is in his hands after all

He’s been misunderstood his whole life. He needs his partner to just be present and listen to him and not tell him to keep his chin up when he’s not in the right state of mind for it. He needs someone who understands the gravity of his responsibilities

📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I’ve mentioned this before but I’ll say it again. Miguel suffers from insomnia and gets repetitive nightmares of the multiverse collapsing one day. Sometimes his mind constantly relives the moment of his daughter fading away in his arms.

He just can’t get a rest from that.

But after being with you, they do eventually calm down. Listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, nestling in his arms or on his chest really helps calm his nerves.

Call me Miguel’s psychologist the way I yap about his fucked up mental state. I wanna write Miguel having some sort of melt down while reader comforts him but I know no one wants to read that 💀 properly will post it on ao3

Here’s the NSFW version if you’re interested

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @patchesofwork @monarchberrysblog @miguelbaby @swiftyangx12 @tarjapearce @smokeywhalee @lazyjellyfish300 @ghost-lantern @jadeloverxd @scaleniusrm @wandasfifthwife @ultravioletrayz @theorphicangel

Anyways, I’m logging off and going to bed

- Ayrus xox

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months

Note

You're such a wicked menace, Eva!

Title: Insatiable Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1845

Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.

Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)

Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.

Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.

Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.

It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”

He was new to your life, too.

The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.

“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.

“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.

Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”

You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”

You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.

Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.

“What?”

“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?”

He licked his lips.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped.

“Bucky, we can’t–”

He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”

Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.

Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.

He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.

Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.

With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.

It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.

“Bucky!”

He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.

Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.

“Please,” you begged.

“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.

Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.

He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.

“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.

But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.

When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.

The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn’t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.

But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.

You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.

He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”

You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.

Deep, slow strokes.

You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.

Full, so full.

In and out.

So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”

And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.

You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.

You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.

“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.

You laughed softly.

“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #aspen wrote something #aspen asks #desperate verse #build a bucky bingo 2023 #babb2023

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leahsgirl · 3 months

Text

valentines sucks

— in which y/n’s original valentine’s day plans fall through and leah decides to take her out herself.

pairings - leah williamson x female reader

warnings - minor swearing but that’s about it really

a/n - an early valentine’s day post because i have the patience of a three year old, here’s some fluff for the lovely day 💐💒

—

“Babe wake up.” shaking the body next to you in bed, you was answered with grumbles before you could hear faint snores again. “Baby, come on get up, it’s valentine’s day!” With a reluctant sigh, the man next to you shifted so his upper body was pressed against the headboard, rubbing his eyes for a brief second.

“here.” an excited grin covered your face as you handed him a red envelope and a neatly wrapped present. “well go on; open it.”

the brown haired boy peeled open the envelope, revealing a handmade card covered in red lipstick kisses and cut-out hearts made from card. “To Tobias, happy valentine’s day, i love you, thanks for another year together, love y/n.” He placed down the card and reached for the present, tearing the wrapping paper open to reveal a homemade scrapbook. “Look inside, theres a surprise.” At this point you was itching with anticipation, personally you thought you’d outdone yourself with the valentine’s day gifts this year and couldn’t wait to get your boyfriend’s reaction.

Tobias pulled out a folded piece of paper, opening it up you watched as he read the words on the page. “We’re going Canada?” He looked confused. “Well I know it’s always been one of the places you’ve wanted to go, plus you said you had some family down there so I thought this is the perfect opportunity to go visit them.”

“y/n I don’t know what to say.” The olive skinned boy replied as he looked over the piece of paper again. “Hm most people normally say thank you.” You laughed as you moved closer to him. “Do you like it?”

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he gave a weak smile and nodded. Oblivious to his change in demeanour, you pressed your lips to his pulling him in for a short but sweet kiss.

“Okay my turn!” now crossing your legs and holding your hands out, you shut your eyes.

“Oh..uhm..shit yeah.” Tobias got up off the bed, walking back and forth as he tried to find something to give you. A fun fact you should know about Tobias; he’s a pretty shitty person - you just failed to acknowledge it at this point. “Listen y/n-“ He sunk back onto the mattress. Opening your eyes you notice he’s looking anywhere but you. “You forgot didn’t you?” The lack of response told you everything you needed to know, your mood instantly deflating.

Scoffing, you got up out of bed and made your way into the bathroom. “y/n wait I can make it up to you.” Tobias rang out but you were choosing to ignore him.

Whipping out your phone, you decide to text your fellow teammates/friends:

y/n - he’s only gone and forgot again, i’m at a loss for words, valentines sucks

meado - you deserve better y/n i’m sorry

geo stanway - break up with him! break up with him!

y/n - you say it like it’s easy

elton - do you want me to come and twat him?

lee lee - be ready in 15 mins, wear something warm.

Despite the curiosity, you follow the defenders instructions, throwing on some light wash jeans and a beige jumper, finishing off the look with a matching beanie. Unlocking the door, you find yourself face to face with Tobias. “Where are you going?”

“Out. Also i’d appreciate if you weren’t here when I get back, I think it’s best we both have some space.” With that you leave the room, grab your bag and leave the apartment.

You didn’t have to wait for Leah for long, you was only stood outside your apartment complex for a couple of minutes before you caught a glimpse that famous blonde hair. “My car’s around the corner, come on let’s go.”

“Hello y/n, hello Leah, it’s nice to see you, it’s nice to see you too. And they say chivalry is dead.” You said sarcastically as the older girl was already turning around to head back to her Audi. She pauses, waiting for you to catch up “Sorry, it’s just we’re on a bit of a time limit.”

You raised your eyebrows quizzically, “care to tell me where we’re going? and why I had to dress warm,”

She glances you up and down before smiling like a mischievous kid “Nope and Nope, you look beautiful though.” You could feel the blush creeping up on your cheeks at the compliment. “Leah Williamson: The charmer.”

“Always.” The blonde winked at you before opening the car door and sliding into the drivers seat. “Mind if I connect my phone to play music?” Leah shook her head and you started pressing all sorts of buttons on the touchscreen device. Eventually you got up CarPlay with it displaying Leah’s last played song “‘I see the light’, Seriously? How old are you?”

It was the blue-eyed girls turn to blush now, witnessing a sense of embarrassment come over her. “Hey it’s a good song from a great film, i’m going to ignore your judging.”

You raise your hands up in defence “No judging - I actually think it’s quite cute. In fact it gives me even more evidence for my ‘leah williamson is actually a massive softie’ list i’m compiling.” She gives you a stern look but you know she’s only playing and you continue to shuffle songs until you come across one you like.

The car journey was pleasant and entertaining, talking about pretty much anything and everything along with a quick game of would you rather. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, it’s probably why you liked being around the taller girl so much. Leah parked up and the two of you got out the vehicle. “Hold my hand?” You accepted the extended arm and laced your fingers with hers, choosing not to acknowledge how right it felt.

Syncing up steps, Leah guided you towards an area that got noisier the closer you got, nonetheless brighter. “Welcome to London’s biggest funfair.” The blonde announced.

“How on earth did you know I always wanted to come here?!” Looking around, you could see a multitude of various rides and mini-game stalls, not to mention your ultimate favourite; the ferris wheel. “I listen y/n, that’s how.” Just that sentence alone sent your stomach flipping. “What do you propose we do first?”

Scanning around, you take notice of the bumper cars and smirk to yourself “How about a good olé head-to-head at bumper cars?”

The mention of competition was enough to get Leah to agree, trailing along behind you to get in the queue. She was so going to win.

Now as it turned out, she in fact did not win, and instead is complaining of whiplash. “Stupid pissing game.” She grumbled causing you to snicker “it’s alright Lee, i’m sure after another one..or one hundred goes you’ll be able to have a chance at beating me.”

Lots of games later, you sat yourselves on a bench, holding one of the greatest inventions known to man. “I can’t believe you’ve never had warm donuts, you’ve been missing out.” You weren’t being dramatic when you felt a piece of yourself shatter when Leah told you she’s never tried the popular carnival dessert. “They’ve just never really appealed to me.”

“And that ladies and gentlemen is what is wrong with society today.” Opening the box and letting the smell hit you, you broke a donut in half, holding it out for Leah to take a bite out of. You watched as the blonde ate the sugary treat and widened her eyes “Okay they’re gorgeous.” She revealed as she went for the other half.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Hey do you mind waiting here for a few minutes, I’ve got to go do something real quick.” The defender got up off the table and waited for your approval before actually leaving. Once you nodded, she was off in the opposite direction, leaving you with just the now empty donut box and both of your belongings.

However, after around ten minutes she returned, holding something behind her back. “Okay close your eyes and put your hands out.” Following her orders you do exactly that, feeling a soft weight now in your possession. Taking a look, in your hands was a small brown bear with a heart attached to its claws. “Happy Valentine’s day y/n.” Leah spoke softly and your heart was beating faster than it does when playing a match. “Lee you didn’t have to do that you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Also, I had to win something to make up for the bumper cars.”

You shook your head smiling “Oh so it wasn’t a cute little gift, it was to restore your overinflated ego.” quirking a brow, it was Leah’s turn to smile like a little kid “Guess you could say we got the best of both worlds.”

You both decided you should probably start to head back. But not before riding the ferris wheel that is, heading over to the massive thing hand in hand.

Once secured in by a metal bar, you wait for the ride to commence. “Can I ask a question?” You turn to look at the girl next to you, she nodded. “Why did bring me here? why did you even take me out at all?” It was Valentine’s day after all, you guys weren’t dating, you was sure she had people higher up on her list she wanted to see today of all days.

“You need to leave him y/n.” The sentence was stated so effortlessly but you couldn’t help but feel a punch to the gut sensation. “you deserve better.”

“He never used to be like this.” You mumbled under your breath but the blonde still caught it, deciding just to drop the matter.

“What’s with the love of funfairs anyways?” Leah asked, gripping onto the bar harder now you were at the very top of the contraption.

“My dad used to bring me to them all the time as a little kid. My mum was always travelling the country with work so I guess it was his way of getting me to cheer up. Not to mention he would always win me a stuffed animal and then we’d end the day with the warm donuts. You smiled at the memory. “Then he got sick and we stopped coming.” It still stung a little when you reminisce over your father’s diagnosis and how you watched him deteriorate with each and every hospital visit.

“I’m sorry y/n, i didn’t mean to bring him u-“ You cut in, “No it’s okay don’t worry, you remind me of him a lot actually.”

The skipper looked at you confused “Do I?”

“Well he was very kind, funny, determined and not to forget sometimes arrogant - all characteristics you share.” Leah swatted your arm, “I’m not that arrogant.”

“Oh yes you definitely are.” Chuckling as you intertwined your arms. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world if that makes you feel better.”

“It does make me feel better actually.”

Now you were sat in the car on the way home, scrolling through socials on your phone. Leah was concentrating on the road, cursing out the odd ‘dickhead’ or ‘twat’ here and there. “Do you reckon if I post a picture of us at the funfair on my instagram we’ll get floods of dating accusations?” Ever since being in the public eye you’ve been very careful about what you chose to share on your social media; people are like vultures and you’re the bait. According to articles and fan pages, you’ve dated everyone on your squad and more, some have even suggested your relationship with Tobias is a pr stunt, but your personal favourite is that you’re apparently pregnant because you had a break from social media for a few months.

“All the fans already assume we have a thing going on. Post it if you like.” The older girl was right, back when you transferred to arsenal three years ago up until this day fans have always had their conspiracy theories around the pair, you never played into it however, just letting them think what they think, sending them into frenzies if a post was ever made with the two of you together.

Humming in agreement, you start crafting out your post, thinking of an appropriate caption before pressing share. “Done.”

Another twenty minutes or so had passed and you could tell you were getting closer to home, recognising certain buildings. It was around this time when Leah had started very quietly singing along to the song playing through the speakers. The blue-eyed girl had a very pretty voice in your opinion and you often didn’t understand why she felt embarrassed singing in front of people.

You continued to watch the girl, a genuine smile making its way to your lips.

put your lips close to mine

as long as they don’t touch

out of focus, eye to eye

‘til the gravity’s too much

i’ll do anything you say

if you say it with your hands

Now you don’t know if it was the way she was singing the lyrics, or the way the sunlight was bouncing off her face to give her a gorgeous sun-kissed look, or how every so often she’d make eye contact with you and smile. But somehow, all you wanted to do was-

“Okay pretty, we’re here.” Pulling you out of your little daydream, you looked out the window to see you was in fact outside your apartment.

“Okay well thank you for doing this for me today, it means a lot.” Leaning across the gearstick, you pulled her in for a side hug.

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive

And I would follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

You pulled back to look at the defender, examining her whole face. She watched as your eyes flicked down to her lips, and back up. It could have just been both of your imaginations, but the tension was thick. You could drop a pin and you’re convinced you would hear it.

You found yourself leaning in, faces only inches apart now. The thing that shocked you the most was that Leah made no attempt to move back, instead she kept her gaze firmly locked on yours.

“Sorry for what I’m about to do.” Were the final words you breathed out before pressing your lips on the defenders. It started out light, almost afraid if you applied anymore pressure, she’d back away. But those fears were squashed when you felt a pair of lips kiss you back, this time with more intent.

You could feel a warm hand travel to the back of your neck, pulling you closer if that was even possible. Running a hand through her blonde locks you felt a smile playing at the girls lips as she continued to kiss back.

Pulling apart your chest was heaving. Suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings you wave her goodbye and exit the car, taking one last look at Leah before practically running up the steps to your building.

Once inside, you reach for the phone in your pocket that has just buzzed. Unlocking it you see you have one new message.

from: lee lee

break up with him.

#leah williamson x reader #woso #leah williamson #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lionesses #england lionesses #y/n #when is it my turn #i want a gf #i want a boyfriend #just cried #treacherous #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x y/n

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faux-ecrivain · 4 months

Text

Yandere Darling

Yandere Darling x gn reader

(Eighteenth Official Post)

(This isn’t my best)

(Yan’s name is Amos)

Yan Darling that used to be kidnapped, that thought he would never escape.

Yan Darling who fought everyday to keep his Kidnapper from hiring him (regardless of how much they claimed they loved him).

Yan Darling that almost gives in after months and months of torture and mind breaking, who almost believes the Kidnapper when they say no one’s coming for him. (“Give up Amos, sweetheart, no one’s looking for you, no one wants you.”)

Yan Darling who cries tears of joy (and anguish) when you rescue him (completely by accident, you just wanted to rob the place).

Yan Darling who panics when you leave his side to talk to the police officer, he’s afraid that’ll he’ll get hurt again if you aren’t with him.

He tugs on the back of your shirt, your turn your head to look at him and are met, briefly, with teary eyes, and pouty lips. “Please don’t go, I’m scared..” He mumbled, his eyes cast to the ground and his hand clutching your shirt like a life line. You can’t help but feel the urge to protect him, to watch over him and it’s only because he reminds you of your little brother. “Alright, I’ll stay, but I’ll have to talk to the policemen eventually.”

Yan Darling who’s eyes light up when you tell him you’ll go with him, his heart pounds when you ride in the ambulance with him and then when you sit beside his bed he can’t help but cry again.

Yan Darling who cries even more when you try to sooth his cries, he apologizes over and over again. He feels so terrible crying in front of you like that, he shouldn’t do that, but he can’t help himself.

Yan Darling who starts giggling when you begin to panic over him, he giggles even more when your face contorts into confusion and you don’t know how to help him.

You were fussing over a crying Amos when he started to giggle, you didn’t know what was so funny and asking him didn’t help. He just kept giggling, then when your face shifted into confusion he began to full on laugh. (It was kind of creepy) He only stops when he starts coughing and his throat feels sore, it’s been a while since he laughed like that. Amos smiles when you hand him a glass of water, you’re so kind to him.

Yan Darling who pouts when you have to leave, no he doesn’t care if visiting hours are up, he just wants to spend time with you.

Yan Darling who makes you swear to come back tomorrow, or he’ll never talk to you again, and feels delighted when you agree.

Yan Darling who can’t wait for you to come back and when you do return, he greets you with open arms.

Yan Darling who chats with for hours and hours, occasionally bursting into tears if you show him an inkling of kindness. Each moment spent with you is a moment he cherishes.

Yan Darling who looks forward to you visits and even dreams about visiting you.

Yan Darling who was upset when you didn’t come in on your usual days, then he got even more upset when his family visited instead of you. He doesn’t like his family, but they don’t seem to care.

Yan Darling who gives you the cold shoulder when you do eventually come visit, regardless of the reason you give him (or the apology).

“Amos, I’m really sorry, I just got caught up in work and by the time I got off visiting hours were over. (Actually you were in jail and just got bailed out)” You apologize again, trying to get his attention and you even go as far as to place your hand near his own hand. He takes notice of this and can feel his resolve crumbling, he really wants to hold your hand. “Hmph, liar, I bet you were just avoiding me!”

He grumbles, his lips pulled into a cute pour and his eyes narrowed in a heated glares. “No, I wasn’t avoiding you. I could never avoid you, I care about you too much.” You smile softly and his resolve wavers, he gives into your kindness, and cautiously grabs hold of your hand. “Hm, fine, i guess I’ll forgive you, but don’t do it again!”

Yan Darling who is so excited when he’s finally released, now he can go over to your house and spend more time with you!

Yan Darling whose mood quickly drops when he’s released to his family and not you. He didn’t want to be with them, he wanted to be with you..

Yan Darling who gives his family the cold shoulder, no matter how much they try to care for him (he knows it’s all an act).

Yan Darling who begins to lash out when his family forbids him from visiting you. (“I’m not a child, mum! I can make my own decision and see my own people!”)

Yan Darling who runs away from his family and wonders around until he comes across you. Actually, you had saved him once more when he had been cornered by a group of thugs and almost beaten up.

Yan Darling whose heart races when he sees you defending him, protecting him and his mind runs back to when you first rescued him. You care about him so much, you must love him.

Yan Darling who readily nods when you make a joke of being his bodyguards and following him 24/7. He gets so confused when you become concerned for him, did he say something wrong (yes, he said you should stalk him).

Yan Darling who begins to cry when you ask him why he’s out so late and so far from home, he reluctantly informs you of his troubles and is overjoyed when you invite him over.

Yan Darling who finds your house fascinating, it’s so lived in and it’s so.. you!

Yan Darling who eagerly listens to the tales you regale him with tales of your exploits and stories about your childhood.

Yan Darling who gets upset when you compare him to your younger brother, he doesn’t want to be your brother! He wants to be your lover.

He pouts and glares at you, he doesn’t want to be your brother. “I’m not your brother! I’m not related to you at all!” He gets so confused when you giggle at his response, he’s being very serious right now. Don’t laugh at him!

Yan Darling who pouts and tells you to take him seriously, he’s a person too!

Yan Darling who becomes relieved once you reassure him that you do indeed view him as a person (and essentially a man).

Yan Darling who whines when you tell him it’s bed time, but relents once you promise to tuck him in and kiss him good night.

Yan Darling who gets all flustered when you do actually tuck him in and kiss him good night. Ah, you must really love him!

Yan Darling whose face is all red when you kiss him, he’s never felt this way before..

Yan Darling who struggles to fall asleep and can’t help but think about you, think about a future with you.

Yan Darling who gets angry when he thinks about the prospect of you leaving him or finding another to dote on. His little heart couldn’t handle having you leave him and it definitely couldn’t handle you loving another!

Yan Darling who catches himself before his mind wanders into dangerous territory, he shouldn’t feel this way, especially not after what he’s gone through. He doesn’t want to hurt you like he was hurt, he wants to love you.

Yan Darling who apologizes when he sees you in the morning, which of course confuses you. Why is he apologizing?

Tears stream down his face as he confesses his thoughts and begs for your forgiveness, meanwhile you’re still trying to process that weird dream you had last night and this situation doesn’t help. You put down you mug and try to reassure him, surely whatever he’s feeling is normal, and he shouldn’t feel so guilty over such thoughts. After all, he seems to have no intentions to make his dreams come true.

Yan Darling who feels so much better after you accept his apology, that’s so kind of you and after he’s caused you so much trouble. Oh, he just wants to hug!

You’re surprised when Amos entraps you in a hug, you didn’t expect this to happen. You awkwardly pat his back and then wait for him to quit hugging you. He’s seemingly oblivious to how uncomfortable his unexpected hug makes you, he seems to take your reluctance to respond as you being shy. He smiles and hugs you tighter.

Yan Darling who whines when you manage to escape his hold, he just wanted to share his love with you.

Yan Darling who almost throws a temper tantrum when you prevent him from hugging you again.

Yan Darling who’s only placated when you offer him some warm food, although he’s sure to kick up a fuss if you don’t cuddle him later this afternoon.

Yan Darling who becomes overly clingy and affectionate throughout the passage of time, each moment around him is spent in his hold or with him hanging off your arm.

Yan Darling who’s scared you’ll leave him alone and does whatever it takes to keep you happy.

(you can probably tell, but I lost motivation halfway near the end, when I started this fanfic i was half asleep and had stayed up all night. So, it wasn’t the best and I apologize for that.)

(Also, you could expect another post later today, but don’t get your hopes up!)

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #my writing #fanfic #not the best #Amos my oc #yander x gn reader #gn reader #enjoy this short fanfic!#Eighteenth Official Post #yan x reader #yan darling x reader #Yandere darling x reader

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crownofgildedlilies · 25 days

Text

oh, don't let your sunshine burn me!

in which: a son of hephaestus discovers a problem he can't solve. mainly, a daughter apollo who doesn't realize just how much her smiles hurt him.

pairing: leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings: not proof read, slight cursing (otherwise, n/a)

tropes: friends to lovers, fluff, pining

word count: 3k

notes: my inaugural fic post on this blog. how special. plz enjoy. feedback is much appreciated.

Leo Valdez was going to lose his mind.

Or maybe a limb. Maybe that would get your attention. He wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't that desperate for you to turn your focus to him.

Stupid Garrett from stupid Ares. Why did he have to go and nearly get his head chopped off by Clarisse while sparring, stealing his thunder?

He should have done more than let his finger slip while hammering away in bunker nine. An exciting injury would have earned the most prized reward of your attention, for sure.

"Are you sure she's too busy?" Leo asked Will for probably four times too many to be considered casual. The blond only rolled his eyes and shoved an icepack into Leo's chest, nearly knocking him back a step, snapping him from his far too obvious admiring of you.

Even from across the infirmary, three hours into your shift, you stole the wind from his lungs. He was convinced you were a favorite of Apollo's, what with the way you glowed and lit up every room you were in.

Which is how he ended up in his current predicament. Absolutely desperate for any hint of your sunshine smile sent in his direction.

"Positive. Now, get out." Will confirmed, checking things off on his clipboard. Leo figured he was probably recording basic information like the patient—himself—had all his limbs, both eyes, ten fingers, and was practically drooling at his half-sister. Leo darted another glance across the room to you, still diligently assessing moronic Garrett from Ares who had been brain dead enough to accept Clarisse's offer of sparring.

Why were you blushing so much?

Something awful and too familiar twisted in his stomach, and all Leo could hear was Piper's voice telling him that he better make his move on you soon, because you were too sweet and too pretty to remain single much longer.

"When's her break again?" Leo asked, ignoring the way Will tipped his head back and closed his eyes, like he was praying for the strength to not hit his patient while under his care.

"And you can't ask her yourself because...?" Will prompted, dragging out the final word and forcing Leo to snap his attention towards the son of Apollo, his jaw practically open in shock.

"Because then she'll know I'm totally into her!" Leo whisper-shouted, waving his hands around as if to emphasize his point.

"You come in here everyday with a new injury asking for her to fix you up." Will pointed out, voice flat. "If she hasn't figured it out yet, I'm not sure she will. You should probably just be direct and ask her out."

Leo narrowed his eyes at Will, but on a rare miracle, he was at a loss for words. Maybe Will had a point. Leo was never exactly good at being subtle about his many, many, crushes, and if you hadn't realized he was hopelessly in love with you yet, then maybe he was safe from feeling the sting of your rejection.

"You're not going to talk to her, are you?" Will sighed, tilting his head slightly as he studied Leo, who, despite having already been given the magic remedy of an ice pack, remained perched on the side of a cot used as a medic's bed.

Leo shook his head side-to-side so quickly Will was a blur of blond hair and orange t-shirt in front of him.

"No can do." Leo said solemnly. "She's miles out of my league. Not even I'm stupid enough to think I have a shot with her."

"Well, at least Garrett isn't as oblivious as you," Will shrugged, shooting Leo a pointed look he didn't understand. The ugly feeling was back in Leo's stomach as he darted his attention towards you and the gods-damned son of Ares.

You were laughing, and Leo wasn't the cause.

Jealousy flared up in him.

You, on the other hand, were completely ignorant to the conversation occurring on the opposite side of the infirmary, far too engrossed in charismatic Garrett from Ares who was retelling the story of how Clarisse had knocked him on his ass and sent him to get bandaged up.

For a child of the war god, he was surprisingly graceful in his defeat.

"Next time, at least bring a shield with you." You smiled at Garrett, checking off the final few items on your clipboard. No major injuries towards his limbs, nor his ten fingers, neither of his eyes had been affected, and he was able to hold a proper conversation with you. "Otherwise I've got nothing else for you. Just an order to take the rest of the day easy."

"I can manage that," Garrett relented, which, for a demigod, was a pretty big ask. Taking it easy was never really an option when one of your parents was a god or goddess. "Hey, any particular reason Valdez is looking at me like he's going to send one of his inventions after me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to act casual as you turned around slightly, finding that Leo had in fact found his way into the infirmary and in fact was staring at Garrett like he might make a good snack for Festus.

You had been starting to worry, thinking that maybe he wasn't going to show up that day.

"Dunno," You shrugged, ducking your face into your clipboard so you didn't have to look at Leo, or Garrett, or Will—who was sending you a look that was both pointed and annoyed at the same time. "But you're set to go."

"Perfect," Garrett jumped off of the examination bed, acting like he hadn't been carried in by two of his half-brothers, a sly grin on his face. "You sure that's not jealousy on Valdez's face?"

"What? Why would Leo be jealous?" You were ashamed to admit you stumbled over your words, your face turning a vibrant shade of red, as you considered the implication of Garrett's words. That Leo might have been into you, enough that just the sight of you talking to Garrett might have been enough to turn his mood sour. "We're just friends."

"Sure," Garrett grinned wickedly, the kind of grin only children of Ares could ever create. The kind that told he totally didn't believe her rushed dismissal of his words. "All I want is an invitation to the wedding. Talk to you later!"

Garrett darted off before you could swat at him with your clipboard, your face flushed with embarrassment. Gods, were you really that obvious in your crush on Leo?

Sure, he came into the infirmary just about every day you were working, with some minor injury or another for you to tend to. And maybe you took a little longer to heal him than you did when Percy or the Stolls came in, were a little sweeter, but were you so transparent that even Garrett from Ares knew what you felt?

"For the love of all the gods and goddesses, would you please just go talk to him?" Will grumbled, borderline exhausted, as he appeared at your side. You jumped, nearly lost in thought, and narrowed your sunshine stare at your half-brother. "He won't leave until he gets the chance to brag to you about his latest made-up injury."

You didn't have to ask who Will was talking about. Leo was still watching you from across the room, rather impatiently. He'd managed to find a few loose bolts and washers and was currently inventing something you couldn't comprehend while he stared very pointedly at the ground by your feet, having averted his stare the moment you darted yours in his direction.

"Shut up," You mumbled to Will, but regardless you dashed off across the room with what felt like permission to engage in your favorite part of the day.

You had received Apollo's gifts of healing, not his poetic words. And every day you cursed that fact, because never could you put into words just how much being around Leo Valdez made you feel centered within yourself. It was like his very personality gave you permission to the version of you that was nearly lost to time and circumstance and the tragedy of being a Greek hero.

"What's the problem today?" You grinned, the smile your half-siblings claimed shined brightest in the camp plastered on your face almost of its own accord as you stood before Leo.

"My hand, Doc." He sighed, playing along and holding up his left hand while the right shoved the ice pack Will had already given him behind his back. You snorted a laugh, and Leo's grin broke out from the solemn facade he had attempted. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to work again if you don't help me."

"Well there's only one solution," You nodded, pretending to read something off of your clipboard—which was still filled out with Garrett's information.

"Anything you recommend is good with me," Leo leaned closer, trying to read over the edge of your clipboard, which you quickly tugged close to your body.

"Right, I've got it." You grinned, dropping your face closer to his, almost like your heart was in control of your body instead of your mind. Leo nodded, and you would have sworn you saw his gaze shoot to your lips for the briefest of seconds. "Amputation. Mr. Valdez, I'm afraid we're going to have to take your hand off."

"But, that's my pretty hand!" Leo protested, playing into your joke quickly. You couldn't even pretend to hide your smile, laughter falling past your lips just as easily as breathing.

"Then I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do for you." You shook your head, grinning widely at Leo, who was—for a guy with ADHD as severe as him—giving you his full attention. "You're free to go. I'll see you and your pretty hand at the bonfire tonight."

"Glad to hear you agree that my hand is pretty." Leo slid off of the examination bed with a grin that had you flushing and looking over the contents of your clipboard simply for something to do with your eyes. "See you later, Doc."

Waving, you sent Leo off.

Over the course of the following week, Leo had found himself at the infirmary—during your shifts only—six more times.

Three smashed fingers from equipment you knew for a fact he knew how to handle properly. One cut to his arm from a piece of scrap metal. A paper cut.

On Thursday, he came in complaining of a serious burn.

"Doc, you'll never believe it. My whole arm caught on fire."

Will hadn't let him into the infirmary, claiming that Leo needed a better lie than that to come visit, since everyone already knew he was fireproof.

Leo came back fifteen minutes later with a second paper cut. Will took his break an hour early, claiming he needed to for his sanity.

But then you didn't so much as catch a glimpse of Leo for four straight days.

You felt more than a little pathetic, jumping every time the door to the infirmary opened, hoping against hope that it would be the curly haired son of Hephaestus you so adored.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, the door opened and you couldn't stop the way your body instinctively twisted around from where you words repacking first aide kits that were left in various locations around camp.

But it wasn't Leo standing at the door, but Piper.

You weren't the closest with her, but you were friendly. So you didn't think she was there for you, at first, until you saw her talking to your half-sister Stella and pointing towards you.

"Hey," Piper's voice had an edge of seriousness to it that snagged your attention, halting your efforts of resupplying. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

"Okay...?" You trailed off, not sure what she could have needed from you.

"Would you be willing to talk to Leo for me? He's in Bunker Nine, convinced he's going to make some big breakthrough on whatever machine he's currently working on." Piper explained and you nodded slowly, not seeing the problem. From your conversations with Leo, he always seemed to be in the middle of some big breakthrough. "He hadn't come out in four days. It's not healthy."

You frowned, trying to recall the last time you'd seen Leo at any of the meals. And when your mind came up blank, you settled on your answer to Piper's request.

"I'll talk to him."

You had never been to Bunker Nine.

As much as you talked to Leo, pretty much everyday, it was always in yours and shared spaces. The infirmary, mainly, but every once in a while at the dining pavilion or at the camp bonfires.

But you could barely focus on any one thing in the bunker. Half-finished projects littered the space, along with countless tools, scraps, and blueprints tacked haphazardly against walls and bulletin boards.

Since it was nearly dinner, the bunker had cleared out of all but one of its occupants. Perched over a table, working so diligently he didn't hear you approach, was none other than Leo Valdez.

Without thinking of the consequences, you dropped the canvas bag you had brought with you on his worktable, startling him so much he jumped in surprise and nearly sent his latest project clattering to the floor.

"Gods!" He shouted, wide eyed and hand pressed to his chest as if he could physically calm his racing heart. You couldn't help the way you grinned, a little lopsided, wholly endeared by him. "Sorry, were you trying to kill me? Because, if so, mission almost accomplished!"

"Actually, the opposite." With a confidence you didn't really possess, you leaned against the worktable next to him and started pulling tinfoil wrapped sandwiches out of the bag. "Everyone's convinced I'm your appointed caretaker, since you don't seem to do it yourself."

Leo had the good sense to seem chastised by the glare you sent him following your words. It wasn't like he could deny it, anyways. How many times had he ended up on your patient list?

"Did Jason put you up to this?"

"Piper," You confirmed, pushing a wrapped sandwich across the table towards him. Next out of the bag was a metal bowl, the bottom slightly charred and filled with paper scraps and twigs. "Light this for me, will you, please?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," Leo grinned, a ball of flame forming in his palm and igniting the twigs in the bowl. Without needing to be told, Leo unwrapped his sandwich and ripped off a chunk to throw into the flames.

You copied his actions. And if you made a wordless prayer to Aphrodite to ask for a little assistance, that was no one's business but your own.

"I've..." You hesitated, darting a glance to Leo before focusing on your sandwich, biting down your declaration that you've missed him in the infirmary. He had already started eating, only further proof that he had been skipping meals while holed up in the bunker. "How come you're always getting hurt, Mr. Clumsy? I thought children of Hephaestus are supposed to be good in the forges."

You would have sworn you saw Leo blush, but your attention quickly darted away from him the moment he lifted his eyes to yours.

"You sure you wanna know the truth?" Leo asked his voice a kind of serious that was almost out of character for him. You nodded, slowly, and forced yourself to meet his eye. "I've been getting hurt on purpose."

"Leo Valdez!"

"Wait, let me finish!" Leo held up his hands to defend himself from your words and your glare, the healer in your absolutely hated the fact that Leo would have done anything to intentionally cause himself harm. "I did it because I got an excuse to see you."

"What?" For a child of Apollo, you sure didn't have a way with words. Distantly, you cursed the fact that you were a gifted healer and not a poet, because you knew what Leo's words meant and yet you couldn't get your own to function. "Wait—"

"I know this sounds stupid," Leo dragged a hand through the dark, disheveled curls atop his head. "But Will wouldn't let me in to see you if I wasn't hurt! So I... maybe... lied, a little bit."

You frowned, in thought. Thinking back, you couldn't remember Leo ever actually being hurt beyond the occasional cut or scrap. You'd always been so caught up in him and his visits to notice.

"I swear I'm not weird. I just really like you." Leo winced, no doubt taking your silence in a bad way.

And you weren't one of Apollo's poetically gifted children, so you simply pressed your lips against his and hoped he got the message.

It was a short kiss, a good first kiss, you noted with no small satisfaction. Your lips tingled and your fingertips were buzzing—and Leo looked like he had just won the lottery.

"You're sweet," You smiled, a thousand watt one that maybe Leo adored as much as your half-siblings did, and nudged his sandwich closer to him. "But you're banned from the infirmary unless you're actively dying. And for real!"

Leo paused, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to create a scenario that would get him past the barrier of your totally official and absolutely within rules ban.

"I can make that happen,"

"No, you can't," You tried to shoot him a discouraging look, but your smile was far too wide to deal any real damage. "Or else I'll go to tonight's bonfire with someone else."

"Nope!" He shook his head quickly, hair bouncing with the movement and expression light with an impish grin. "You kissed me, Doc. You're stuck with me, now."

You smiled, silently deciding you wouldn't mind being stuck with him.

"That's what I thought."

Leaning over to press a second kiss to the corner of his lips, you pretended not to notice the sparks dancing in his curls.

#leo valdez #pjo #rays of sun #Leo Valdez fic #Leo Valdez x reader #Leo Valdez fanfiction #pjo x reader

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elsweetheart · 5 months

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omg idk if this is ok to ask since you’ve never written for hazel but like what do you think her reaction to you mindlessly wearing a super short skirt in front of her would be like… maybe ur like freshly into the relationship n didn’t have sex yet so she’d go crazy i 🤭

no because she’s so silly and awkward but like so horny ♡

waiting in line for your iced latte at the university cafe and she’s backed up a few steps, literally removing her arm from around your shoulder so she can ogle at you without looking like a total creep. you look back to glance at her and she nearly does a full spin trying to pretend she wasn’t looking — and she wasn’t! honest! she was trying to read the rhinestone lettering on the tiny pink skirt that just happened to be spelling something out across your ass!

you didn’t even say anything or acknowledge her gaze, and yet excuses come tumbling suddenly — “n-no—i wasn’t — you had a…” she waves her hand like she’s casting a fucking spell, mumbling something about a stain and your attention is captured again by the barista handing over your drink, paying no attention to hazels rambling as it certainly wasn’t out of character. it’s only back in the safety of your dorm when she brings it up again, because she quite literally cannot keep her eyes off the skirt so she figured she should say something, you know out of politeness.

“so, ‘that a new skirt or?” she trails off hoping it sounded casual and nonchalant. you stand from where you’re sat at your desk, absolutely elated that she noticed the tiny skirt you wore just for her, and she’s breaking into a grin of her own at how cute you were when you were excited. god, she was down dreadful.

“yes! i literally went to get it from the post room yesterday, it’s so cute — it says spoiled across the ass look!” you turn around, twisting at the waist to look down at it yourself. hazels eyes widen naturally, rubbing her sweaty hands on her knees, self soothing so she didn’t nut in her pants there and then. the swell of your ass peeks from beneath the skirt, having ridden up and her mouth waters. she wants to bite the flesh there, not in a weird way or anything just… shit.

“y—i mean, yeah it’s…” she stands up, wandering over to you gently slapping her fist into the palm of her opposing hand, smile fading into more of a smirk— not cocky just… relaxed. whatever it was, it made you bat your lashes a little. “you kinda have this thing where you look good in everything you wear?” she squints, leaning back a little, her voice getting higher as if she was gently breaking news to you. “but the skirt is really pretty. you’re really pretty.” she smiles simply.

you feel all hot in the face and appreciated, rolling your glossy lips over eachother (which she doesn’t miss, her eyes flickering downwards chanting ‘oh fuck’ in her head undoubtably.) “well im glad. i did buy it because like… i don’t know, wanted you to like it.” you get all shy on her and she smiles even bigger.

“well i definitely do. a little too much.”

you giggle and so does she, your fingers interlocking where they hang before you lift them up, looking up sweetly through your lashes to kiss the ring on her knuckle. she shouldn’t get a shiver up her spine from that, because it was pretty innocent— but she was having some urges all of a sudden. she gently shakes a hand free and cups your cheek. “you uh— missed my mouth.” her voice gets breathy towards the end of the sentence as she closes in, pressing her lips to yours.

#anon #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms drabble #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan prompt #hazel callahan blurb

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soolh1k · 5 months

Note

Not sure if your requests are open but could you do stray kids forgetting a date they had with (r) ? And maybe the aftermath of it? Thank you smm if you plan on doing this, I just really enjoy the way you right your angst.

- 🦴anon

🕸 umm... life 🕸

synopsis. when skz forgetting the date they had w you and the aftermath

pairing. bf!skz x reader genre. angst and fluff

a/n. Thank you so much for the request!!! I hope you like it and i am so glad that you like the way I write angst, means a lot to me ♡︎ love you 🦴 anon !! 🩷 english is not my first language so apologies for any misspellings or grammar. let me know if you'd like to be tagged !! YEAH AND SORRY FOR NOT POSTING!! I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE POSTS THESE DAYS LOVE UUU

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ BANGCHAN

Chris was very focused on working on a new track. He wanted it to be perfect, and since he's someone who always finds flaws in things, he couldn't leave his studio until the new melody was flawless. Therefore, he wasn't even paying attention to his phone; he had it on silent just to finish that damn song. He didn't stop until he got frustrated because things weren't going as he wanted. So, he took a break to clear his mind and relax a bit. He picked up his phone and saw a ton of messages from you. It wasn't strange since you used to tell him everything, which he found adorable. However, he was surprised when he saw the messages you had sent him. Had he forgotten your date? No, that couldn't be true. He had it marked on his calendar, and he was genuinely looking forward to that day. He wanted to spend time with you; he missed you so much. He had messed up and needed to fix this urgently. He hadn't done it on purpose; he felt so guilty.

He quickly arrived at the apartment where you lived. He saw the food in the kitchen, and his heart sank. He barely realized how you must have felt sitting there alone in the middle of the night, waiting for him, excited to be only disappointed by him. The worst part was when he heard sobs coming from your room. You were crying because of him, because of his stupidity, and because of being a bad boyfriend.

He hurried to your room, making as little noise as possible. You were already lying in your bed, covered with your blanket up to your head. As soon as you felt your bed sink, something in you hoped it was Chris. When you heard his voice, you felt relieved but angry at the same time. You uncovered yourself and looked at your boyfriend with teary eyes, an action that hurt him even more. He didn't give you time to confront him; he already had you wrapped in his arms. All you could do was cry while holding him tightly.

"You're a fool, Chris," you said between sobs.

"I know, sweetheart, forgive me," he said, stroking your hair while still hugging you.

"I was so focused on my work that I never heard my phone, but I want you to know that my work will never be more important than you. You are my priority, beautiful."

"Do you promise it won't happen again?"

"It will never happen again, darling. Let's rest, okay? Tomorrow we'll have a lovely date. Sleep now, I love you."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ MINHO

He didn't know how much it hurt. Months without being able to go on a date with him. You didn't ask for much, not even for it to be a date outside the house. Just spending time together was enough for you. You just wanted to be with your boyfriend.

Minho hadn't even realized that you had sent him so many messages. He was trying to add new steps to the new choreography; the comeback was approaching, and he felt desperate to finish everything. He just wanted to rest.

It got really late; he was leaving the company around 1:30 am. When he reached the parking lot, the first thing he did was check his phone for any message from you. To his surprise, he had hundreds of messages from you, and the most concerning part was that the recent ones expressed disappointment towards him. What had he done wrong?

Slowly, he read each one and realized that you had a planned date today. He had completely forgotten, and he felt horrible. It had been months since you could go out or have a nice date. He put his phone aside and headed to his apartment. He needed to fix things with you; he knew you had been looking forward to this day for a long time.

As soon as he arrived at his apartment, he searched for you everywhere but couldn't find you. That made him even more nervous. He felt like he had lost you. However, he heard a sound coming from the bathroom—it was you, coming out after showering. At that moment, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he had messed things up, but at least you were still there.

You were frozen; you didn't expect Minho to come home so late. You stayed up late because you couldn't sleep due to anger and disappointment. So, you decided to take a shower to release all those consuming emotions. Lost in your thoughts, you felt someone wrapping their arms around you. You wanted Minho to let go, but deep down, you needed a hug. In whispers, you heard explanations from your boyfriend about how the stress of the comeback was consuming him, and he spent a lot of time at the company, even though he wished all that time was invested in you.

"Forgive me, please. I completely forgot that we were supposed to go out today. I'm really sorry that you felt that way, sweetie. It wasn't my intention to hurt you. Tomorrow we can go out; I'll stay home. But please, forgive me." You just nodded and gave him a small kiss.

"I love you, Minho."

"I love you too."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ CHANGBIN

You were sitting in your chair, waiting for Changbin to show up. You weren't even angry; just sad because you had planned this outing so much. You were worried because he wasn't answering your messages. You knew he had a busy job, spending most of his time in the studio producing with his friends. But you were hoping for the day when you could spend the entire day together, despite both of your stress and worries.

As it got later, you felt more tired. Without hope, you went to your room to change and remove your makeup. Today, you looked and felt beautiful, but it seemed like all that effort had gone to waste. You sat at your vanity, looked at yourself in the mirror, saw how tired you were, and started crying. Your relationship was wearing you down in a way you couldn't describe, but you wanted to stay because he made you happy. Changbin rarely failed in your relationship. Honestly, at the beginning, you expected something worse, but no, Changbin was the perfect boyfriend. The only complicated thing was his work, but you knew it was his dream, so you felt happy for him. You turned back to the mirror, saw tears, didn't even realize you were crying, which made you cry even more. You really missed your boyfriend, but things were getting more complicated. You just kept sitting there, crying in front of the mirror, waiting for your tears to stop.

Moments later, when you were calmer, you heard gentle knocks on your room door, followed by Changbin's voice asking for permission to enter. Something inside you didn't want to see him; you felt and looked horrible.

"Can I come in, princess?"

"Not now, Changbin, I need time," your voice sounded rushed, trying to remove your makeup as best as you could, mascara running like never before.

"Please, princess, I need to talk to you," the man sounded desperate.

"Just give me a few minutes, please." Saying that, you went to your bathroom, washed your face, and once clean, you ran to open the door. Your surprised boyfriend could only put his head on your shoulder; he exuded such a sad vibe.

"Forgive me, please. Time flew by, and I never realized we were going out today. I didn't even hear your messages. I'm really sorry, princess," Changbin was on the verge of tears, genuinely repentant.

"I know, Binnie, it's okay, don't worry," you said while stroking his head.

"It's not okay, princess. You are my everything, and today, I failed you. Forgive me, please. It will never happen again," he said between sobs. You couldn't believe he was crying.

"Love, I know how difficult your job can be. You have to do many things, and it's okay. I understand, and I trust you not to let it happen again. I love you," you said while hugging him tightly.

"I love you too, and sorry again."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ HYUNJIN

You were angry, not even sad, just angry. You had been wanting to see your boyfriend for a while, and as soon as he told you he had some free time, you planned many things to spend time with him. You even prepared many things for him, cooked various dishes, bought a little gift, and even tried to paint something for him. It turned out beautiful, but your boyfriend never showed up to see your little gifts.

You were on your way home when you felt someone approaching you. It made you nervous because it was already dark, and someone approaching wasn't a good sign. You started walking faster, but you heard the footsteps of the other person accelerating too. You didn't want to start running because if you weren't fast enough, things would end badly. Besides, you were carrying the things you had taken to the place where you were going to meet Hyun. All you were praying for was to reach a street where there were more people to lose that person. However, your wish couldn't be fulfilled, and you felt the person following you grab you by the shoulders. You almost fainted right there, but upon hearing the person's voice, your soul returned to your body.

"Why are you walking so fast, my goodness," said Minho, trying to regulate his breath.

"Oh my god, Minho! I almost had a heart attack. I thought I was about to be kidnapped. I swear I won't survive the night," you said, speaking very fast. Your voice didn't even have an annoyed tone; you could only hear relief.

"I called you several times, but you never paid attention. You were in your own world. What did you want me to do?" he complained.

"Well, your friend, the idiot, stood me up and never replied to my messages," you complained with an annoyed tone.

"I know, that's why I came. Honestly, it wasn't his intention. As soon as he saw the messages, he tried to run out, but the idiot tripped and sprained his ankle," Minho explained.

"Oh my god, but is he okay?" you asked worried.

"Crying but yes, he's okay. If I were you, I'd go to the company to see him because otherwise, it's going to end up being a disaster," a sigh was all that came out of you, nodding your head. You accompanied Minho back to the company.

As soon as Hyunjin saw you, he started crying more, feeling guilty. But all you did was approach him, hug him, and tell him not to worry right now. First, his health was important, and then you could talk.

"Don't worry right now, Hyunnie. First, get better, okay? I love you, everything is fine," you gave him a little kiss on the head.

"Forgive me, I love you. I swear when I recover, I'll take you on a very nice date. I promise."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ JISUNG

Angry, frustrated, sad, humiliated— you felt like a sea of emotions. You told him how you felt, but you didn't know if it had been the best choice, or the right words, or the right moment. Maybe he was just too busy? But still, it didn't give him the right to stand you up. It wasn't the first time; if the times you went on dates were few, the times he actually made it to the dates were even fewer.

You felt tired, abandoned even. You hardly had the chance to see your boyfriend, and you knew his life was complicated. But there was always the need, the desire to spend time with him, to love him like the first time, to be loved.

Now that you had arrived home, you didn't know what to do. It was like reality had punched you. You realized you had said things that could be misinterpreted. Perhaps the last message would seem like you wanted to break up when that wasn't really the case. The words you said were spoken without much thought; you were just venting, but it wasn't the best. You were shattered. You couldn't even move from the entrance; you were crying oceans, clinging to the door. You didn't want to move; your head hurt, and you couldn't even breathe properly. At this point, you were hyperventilating. Meanwhile, your boyfriend was rushing to your apartment to find you. He didn't want things to end between you two; he loved you and was willing to make a great sacrifice for you.

He arrived in less than 10 minutes, even though your apartment was 15 minutes away. He knocked on the door with desperation, which snapped you out of your trance. However, you couldn't move; everything hurt. As you didn't answer, he became even more worried. He entered the code to the entrance and found you on the floor, in pain, struggling to breathe. He took you in his arms and tried to calm you down. After a long time, you were much calmer, just looking at your boyfriend with teary eyes.

"I don't want to break up with you. I'm sorry, Hannie," you whispered.

"Nor do I want to, my love. Please let me take care of you. I promise that from now on, I'll always be there for you. My work will never come before you. You are my priority. Forgive me, let me fix things. I love you. I'm sorry," he pleaded.

"I forgive you, my love. I love you too. Let's go back to how we were before."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ FELIX

You were already asleep in the room you shared with Felix. A few hours ago, you were supposed to have your wonderful date. Unfortunately, that didn't happen because your boyfriend was probably busy. Yes, you were angry, but more than that, you were disappointed and sad. You used to be a sensitive person, so these kinds of actions hurt your feelings a lot. Let's say you had to cry yourself dry to fall asleep.

Felix was on his way home, very nervous and disappointed in himself. He had forgotten about the date you were supposed to have, one of the few times you could have time for just the two of you. He suspected that you were either devastated or asleep because you weren't answering his calls or messages. They even said your phone was on silent. When he got home, he looked for you in the kitchen. He saw your dishes neatly washed, while his were still on the table. The table was decorated with flowers and a few candles. You even bought a pink wine for the occasion. He had really messed up this time.

In panic, he went to look for you in the room, praying that you were there. And yes, he saw your small figure hidden under the sheets. That made his heart squeeze tightly. Had he really hurt you? He knew you were a very sensitive person, like a porcelain doll. He had to handle you with care, and that was his favorite part—taking care of you. You were his everything. How had he been failing you so much lately? He wanted to cry right there. He wanted to leave his busy life to give all his attention to you. Slowly, he approached you and sat on the side of your bed where only your hand hung. He took it gently and caressed it. He gave you a small kiss while whispering how sorry he was, how much he felt for hurting you, for failing you. He didn't realize you had woken up, only hearing the sweet and sincere words he was dedicating to you.

You got concerned when you felt your hand wet, a sign that he was already crying. Carefully, you moved and, in a slow motion, sat on the floor with him, face to face. You took his face gently in your hands and gave him many kisses, tickling him, which made him smile.

"It's okay, Felix. I already told you that I understand that your life is difficult."

"But even if it is, that doesn't mean I can fail you. It hurts to admit that I completely forgot that we were supposed to have a date today. I know how hard you try to do things for both of us. Please, forgive me. I want to give my all for this relationship, angel. I want things to be like before when we were both so happy."

"I want that too, Lix. I forgive you, okay? For now, let's have dinner together. I left your plate on the table, but I guess the food is already cold." You got up slowly and then extended your hand towards your boyfriend.

"Thank you, beautiful. I love you more than you can imagine. Things will get better, I promise." He gave you a kiss on the cheek as you both headed to the kitchen.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ SEUNGMIN

You were clearly hurt, unsure how to react to what happened. Seungmin had stood you up at a restaurant, and now you had to pay for an inexpensively expensive bottle of champagne and a meal you didn't even bother to eat. Walking back home with your heels in one hand and a broken heart in the other, you didn't want to return to your shared apartment with Seungmin. But your feet and head ached, you were tired, so you stopped at a bus stop to rest for a while. You felt your eyes getting heavy, very sleepy, but you knew it wouldn't be a good idea to fall asleep on the street. It was dangerous, and you didn't want anything bad to happen. So, you called one of your friends to pick you up.

You patiently waited for your friend, and when they arrived, Seungmin called. You didn't really feel like answering, but you did it anyway.

"Where are you?" At that moment, your friend arrived in their car, so you quickly got in because you didn't want to make them wait.

"On my way home, I guess." You weren't sure if you wanted to go home, but it was the most likely option.

"What do you mean 'I guess'? Don't you want to go home?" He asked with a concerned tone.

"It's not that, Seungmin. Just a friend picked me up, and I wanted to spend some time with him. Yes, I'll go home, okay?" A somewhat annoyed tone came from your voice. You didn't want to sound like that, but you were very tired and just wanted to rest. Your friend turned to look at you, worried. You just signaled to them that everything was okay.

"Do you know what time you'll be home?" he asked worriedly.

"To be honest, I don't know. I hope before midnight."

"I'll be waiting for you here. I love you. I'm sorry, beautiful." You noticed a tone of regret in his voice.

"I love you too, Seung." You sighed tiredly one last time and ended the call.

You and your friend spent the time talking on the way to distract you from the bad experience. Despite having brought food, your friend suggested going to a fast-food restaurant and ordering something through the drive-thru, and it sounded like a good idea. So, you both had dinner in the parking lot, continued talking for a while, and decided it was time to go home. Your friend drove you back and waited for you to enter the building where you lived.

The moment you entered your apartment, you felt a heavy, sad vibe—something inexplicable. It felt completely weird because you expected Seungmin to come running to see if you had arrived safely, but none of that happened. So, you decided to go look for him. You found him in your shared bed, curled up, crying like never before, which crushed your heart. Slowly approaching him, once by his side, you started stroking his back, intending to help him calm down. However, that only made him cry more. He felt extremely guilty, but now you also felt guilty. You should have solved things earlier, but you chose to leave, making things worse than they were. You lay down next to him and hugged him, starting to comfort him, which this time worked. After a few minutes, he began to speak.

"Sorry, beautiful. I completely forgot that we were going out today, and by the time I realized, too much time had passed, and I couldn't find any way to fix it. Please forgive me. I promise I'll make it up to you." He apologized, turning around to face you.

"Of course, Minnie. I forgive you. I was just a little upset, but I know how busy your life can be. All I wanted was some time for us because lately, we haven't been able to go out like before," you said, stroking his cheek.

"I know, beautiful. But soon, I'll get some vacation, and if I don't, I'll take a few days off to be with you, my love." He hugged you tightly.

"Thank you, Minnie. I love you more than you can imagine. Forgive me too, and let's keep being happy together, okay?"

"Yes, silly. I love you much more."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ JEONGIN

After sending that message, you felt guilty because maybe it wasn't his fault, but it seemed like he wasn't putting in the slightest effort into your relationship. Every time something complicated happened in your relationship, it wasn't him who came to talk to you about it; it was always his coworkers. This bothered you a lot because it seemed like he was too cowardly to tell you things, either by message or face to face.

Right now, you didn't know whether to cry, get angry, or worry. You really didn't know what to do or how to act. What were you supposed to do? Wait and see if the man you love shows up, or if he's just going to back away again. These thoughts only made you more depressed. You even fell asleep while crying, so you didn't know what was happening around you at that moment.

When you woke up, you had missed numerous calls from your boyfriend, his friends, your friends—literally everyone. He had been looking for you for about an hour and a half, something that surprised you because you didn't even feel like you had fallen asleep, so you didn't notice the calls and messages they had sent you. Disoriented, you started reading messages from your friends saying that Innie had been looking for you for a while and seemed sad. When you began reading his messages, you realized you had messed up really badly. You had around 100 messages from Jeongin apologizing, asking you not to leave him, and begging to see you just to apologize properly. If you didn't want to be with him anymore, he said it was okay, but he just wanted to say goodbye properly. However, you didn't want to end it either; you only said it on a stupid impulse. He was and is the love of your life, and you didn't want things or the love between you to end. You quickly called him, praying that he would answer, and not even 3 seconds passed when a desperate Jeongin answered. You were about to speak, but he started apologizing endlessly, just saying words desperately, not even making coherent sense. He just didn't want you to hang up and say you no longer wanted to be with him. His desperation made you feel disoriented and sad, but at the same time, it frustrated you because he wouldn't let you talk. Therefore, you decided to raise your voice a bit to make him stop talking.

"Jeongin! Let me speak first, okay?"

"Yes, sorry."

"I don't want to break up with you. I know I said I couldn't take it anymore, and it's true, but I know being busy is not your fault. I just want you to communicate more with me. I don't want your friends always having to inform me. I want it to be you," you said with some emotion, finally able to express what you felt.

"Yes, love, I promise. From now on, I'll change for the better, but please don't leave me. I love you more than you can imagine. That's why from today, I'll be the person who makes you happy forever," he promised with a lump in his throat.

"If that's the case, come home now, Innie. I miss you. I want to fix things properly. I miss everything about you, please," you begged your boyfriend.

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hoshigray · 10 months

Text

My Professor's Final Spring Praise ༄ K. Nanami

"Before my summer break officially started, I had to finish my last in-person exam with Professor Nanami. It was so tough, but I made it through! I was the last to leave, so I thanked the professor and shared some final words before heading to my dorm to finish packing up. However, how do a few gratitude and praise exchanges end up with me on his desk and him between my legs?"

A/n: Yessirrrrrr!! First work of my very first series!! I'm very nervous about this as this is the first time committing to writing consecutively for a specific theme, but I got faith in myself!! Also, it's Nanami and my birthday!!!ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ So as soon as this is posted, I'm signing off and enjoying my day with my hubby Kento~ (sike I'm not, just gonna hang with friends, lol). But anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this piece, and thank you so very much for 1k followers~~~!!! Not my best work, but it's a decent start for the series! >:D (will proofread l8r tmrw)

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: professor! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content so minors DNI - taboo (consensual sex b/w a professor & undergrad) - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Nanami approaching early 30s) - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - semi-missionary position (reader lies on their back on a table while Nanami stands) - public sex/sex in a university classroom - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - pining if you squint - praise - pet names (baby, darling, love, sweet pea) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - kissing/makeout sessions.

Wc: 3.4k

Dear Diary...it's been a long while since I had to come to you as an outlet for my thoughts. But something happened today that caused my mind to go rampant, and I need to rely on you again...

Today is supposed to be the best day of the year. You just finished taking your last in-person exam, you were able to finish packing up all your stuff, and you're now ready to kiss this campus goodbye until the upcoming fall season.

You could not wait to start your summer plans. Not only will you work in the internship you've been hoping to get into since last semester, but you'll finally have ample time to hang with your best friends ever — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara!

The summer break has been the end goal for the four of you, and now that your finals are finally over, there's no stopping you from enjoying the season to the best you can!

However, as much as you say you're excited, it doesn't correlate to your actual feelings at this point in time. Something happened that altered your entire perception of what the future was supposed to be.

Something so out of the ordinary that you don't know how to properly feel or think about the situation.

Something so out of the ordinary that you turn to a diary to let your thoughts out, alone in your shared dorm room when all the other roommates have left earlier in the week.

Something so completely out of the ordinary that it sends chills down your spine just reminiscing the moment before sitting at this exact desk writing about what transpired earlier.

It all started when I went to my last in-person exam with Yuuji, where everyone else was waiting for the professor...

You and Yuuji had the same Biology class to take care of one of your science credits, and the exam was to take place on the last day of finals week. Although you've been told it's not supposed to be a difficult test — it's a bunch of multiple questions, short answers, and one essay — the exam period starts from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Three hours of endless testing was enough to put you, Yuuji, and all the other classmates in shambles, embracing guaranteed failures and having no idea how to study.

Luckily, a true saint descended from above to bless you and your peers with a professor who knows what he's doing and is patient enough to lead you to the right path. Your professor, Kento Nanami, was relatively young enough to connect with his fellow students but held a well-mannered and stern cadence that gained the respect and admiration of those around him. He was able to steer you guys into a secure approach to your studying: taking in questions, making study guides for quizzes and midterms, and highlighting significant areas from the textbook throughout the semester that will be shown on today's exam.

So through all the diligent preparation and practical labs you've attended, you feel way more confident with the material than at the start of the semester. Can't say the same for Yuuji, who's more nervous than you (with his three unexcused absences and constantly coming to you for help). But as long as y'all are suffering together, that's all that matters.

The only problem is that the exam is sectioned into three parts — sixty multiple-choice questions that are one point each, ten short answer questions that are also one point each, one mix-and-match portion, and the essay is ten whole points by itself (twenty if you can answer five bonus questions afterward). So, off the bat, everyone understands why three hours are given to complete the exam. But Professor Nanami said, "You all should be fine because it doesn't necessarily have to take you all three hours to complete. So if you finish early, you can get outta here." Say less.

So once you entered the usual classroom with Yuuji, you followed through and sat distant from each other at the same table. The professor came on time as always, instructing the class on where to get the exam on the class website, giving the password to unlock it, and wishing you luck.

The only sounds in the space were people clicking their keyboards, sighs, and groans, and people packing up to leave after submitting their exams before thanking their professor for a great semester. Soon the number of students would thin out, leaving just you and Yuuji still completing your exam.

Yuuji finished at the two-hour mark, releasing an extended sigh of relief before hurriedly stuffing his laptop in his backpack. He goes down to thank and bear hug the professor. And you giggle at the expression of Nanami's dismay because he would've sufficed with a simple handshake like the other students. But that's what makes Yuuji an anomaly to the mass, being exceptionally himself no matter where or who he's with. The salmon-haired boy walks up and wishes you luck, going to his dorm to pack the last of his things and promising to pick you up when you're done.

And then it was just you and him: the professor standing at the podium in front of the classroom, reading a book while you finish the last bonus questions before submitting it on the class site. You sigh heavily, and a massive wave of relief washes over you. You did it. You handled all your exams. You're finally free!

"Finished?" You look for where the voice comes from. The professor looks up from his book at your figure.

You place your laptop in your bag and stand up from your seat. It took you twenty more minutes just to finish compared to Yuuji. "Yup! It wasn't so bad like you said, but I had more trouble with the bonus questions than everything else." You stretch your arms and legs.

Nanami chuckles at your feedback. "I see. I did say the bonus questions would be more lab-based. Good thing those who couldn't make it to some of the labs got to see me so I could help them or assign them with the other students who missed."

"You mean like Yuuji?" You walk up to the podium to be in front of your professor. "Because the poor guy couldn't make it to some of the labs because of club activities."

"Yes, Itadori is one of those students." Nanami smiles at the mention of the salmon-haired other. "He's undoubtedly a hard-working student, asking questions and enjoying the lectures. But that's for when he is in the class."

You chuckle as the subtle shade at your friend. "He does try, though! All the times we've studied together since this exam shows that he wanted to put his whole heart into this class. Not to mention that you're secretly his favorite teacher~." You mention the last part hoping it sparks something in the professor, and you're glad to see that the older man releases a wee chortle at the tiny piece of information.

"Hmm, well, I appreciate his enthusiasm and that he was deeply interested in the class. However," your professor closes his book and walks to the side of the podium, erasing an imaginary barrier between the two of you. "You also play a huge part in his engagement. He's lucky to have a friend like you."

Your brows trench, but a smile creeps past your conscious. "What makes you say that?"

"You've been a particular student in my class. Not only are you an easy grader, but you capture the material so well that Itadori trusts you enough to help him when I'm not available to do so. Anytime you ask me a question, it's always outside the textbook or linked to something you looked into outside the lectures."

The smile on your face grows large, and you look away to shield it from his vision. "Thank you, Professor Nanami."

"I won't be surprised if I check the grades later and see that you got an excellent grade." He removes his glasses and places them on the podium with his book. "I'd also suggest you consider minoring in this field if you'd like. And did you sign up for that scholarship I mentioned to you around two weeks ago?"

"Yes, I filled it out last week."

"Good." He moves a hand to place on your shoulder, and the action takes you aback because it's the first time he's ever touched you. "I expect great things from you, Y/n. I'm sure whatever you want to do in this life, you'll do just fine."

You bashfully nod at his kind words. And you extend your hand up to him to signify a ready handshake. "Thank you, professor. And thank you so much for all your help this semester."

The hand that was on your shoulder grabs hold of your hand. But what happens next was far from what you expected.

Nanami lifts your hand with his and faintly sets his lips on the back of your knuckles.

And this is the provenance of what sets everything in motion.

What he did to your hand didn't just surprise you, but also surprised him. Nanami froze with your hand still in his, not daring to move as you have yet moved an inch.

Why did I do that? It's the biggest question that runs through his mind at this time. One moment he was praising you for being one of his best students, then he busses his lips onto your hand the next. But why?

Nanami knew he was done for. Unable to look into your eyes, he can only tighten his hold on your hand. This was so not part of his routine. Today was supposed to be like any other exam day. He only came here to see his students for one last time before the start of summer break. He only came here to see his final class and have them take the exam before heading home. So why?

Perhaps it was the feelings of spring blinding him like a child. Or maybe his emotions got the better of him. But today was the last day of the semester he'd see his favorite pupil — you. Until now, the professor has done a phenomenal job maintaining an appropriate relationship between teacher and student, keeping a respectable distance while tending to his scholars.

And yet, he still would catch himself sneaking a selfish glance at you following through with his lectures, his heart swooning when you use your lovely voice to ask a question, or going blind when you flash a smile that rivals the sun's beam.

It's never right to have favorites; however, you clearly were the one that caught his attention the most.

Yet, also, this type of relationship is not the best for Nanami or you. You are a student, and he is your teacher. This could damage the reputation of both of you. It's the least favorable outcome between the two of you...

...So why haven't you snatched your hand away from mine yet?

Your hands tighten back with his, and the man finally chooses to look at you.

You're eyes bore into him, looking at him as if he's the only thing meant to have your concentration. Your breathing descends to a slower pace, but the rhythm of your heart beats the more you look at the man before you. "Professor Nanami..." you said his name in a whisper, and God, did it feel so wrong to do such a thing. As if your mouth would be thrown into a pit of flames for even calling to him with an indescribable connotation. Your mind is now fueled with a deep emotion rooted within, rooted with a scary longing.

"Y/n..." It felt even more wrong to have your name hushed in his voice, so hot to the ears that they could melt any second. Even so, a part of you wishes he would repeat it in the same tone again. Expressing the exact feeling of wanting something, wanting you.

Observant brown eyes lock in with your eyes. Faces move forward with hesitance. Eyes close. Noses begin to brush their skins against each other. And pairs of lips seal an unfortunate yet desirable event that cannot be revoked.

It takes a few minutes for you two to melt into each other from the makeout session. It takes a few minutes to block the glass windows with portable whiteboards to block the view from the outside. And it takes a few minutes for you to be a disheveled mess with your back on a table with Nanami between your legs, fingering your throbbing vulva and licking your slick and sensitive clitoris.

"Hoooh...Mmmm, Professor Nanami, your tongue. I-It feels too good—Nnnmph!!"

Nanami flicks his tongue on your sensitive, the cause for you to cry out. "Y/n, I told you. It's just the two of us, so call me by my name."

No, you mustn't. That's taking things too far. But, "K-Kentooo," that name is too tempting to not have seeped through your moans. "Your tongue and fingersss, they're too much!"

His middle and forefinger pull and push inside your gushy walls, prompting more of your sweet cries to fill the blonde man's eardrums. "Is that so? Too much for you? Think you're gonna cum?"

You nod desperately with each question, your cunt clenching around his digits as if you were to snatch them off. But that would be impossible when he's playing with your pussy like a toy. Sweat starts to form on your forehead, your orgasm inching in closer and closer by the second.

And Nanami notices, resulting in him coming to your aid for release. His tongue goes back to lapping around clit, kissing and sucking on the bud while the tempo of his fingers increases.

Your climax hits you hard, having your body twitch and quiver as the inner walls of your slit contract around the digits scraping your velvety texture. You grab tufts of his blond hair, messing up its neat shape. But neither of you cares, too engulfed with each other to worry about the details. Tears form at the end of your eyes as you experience your high, and you try to steady your breathing when your professor withdrawals himself from you.

"Good job, sweet pea. Made a mess on my fingers." He praises you while undoing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his well-defined torso for your eyes to see. But the real prize is when he unzips his pants and pulls down his briefs, his erect cock out in the open for you to marvel at.

But before you could look at it with all its glory, the tip of his dick presses up against your cunt, sliding it up and down to warm you up before entry. The feeling of his shaft grinding on your folds and clit is enough to have chills travel down your spine.

"Alright, love, I'm gonna go slow for you, okay?" His chocolate brown eyes examine your face to give him a response. You nibble on your lip and brace yourself after confirming your cooperation. "If you want me to stop, let me know. So, take some breaths for me."

And with that, the blonde pushes his cock into you with every exhale you take, the twinge of pain making it difficult to focus. Yet you still pull through because you want this so fucking much. There's no turning back now. And when the tip of his cock finally nestles inside your vagina, a choked shriek departs from your lips.

Slowly, Nanami pushes himself into you, every inch of his cock venturing further into your welcoming, throbbing chasm. He brushes up against your sweet spots causing you to jerk up. Nanami coaxes you through it. "It's okay, darling. You're taking me so well."

Tears come streaming down when the base of his cock kisses your folds, your union now solidified. The blonde gives you a moment to get acclimated with his girth inside before he gradually instructs a patient pace of the hips.

"Mmmm, Kento. 'S so good..." You mewl into the air, your face feeling hot and sweaty. The slow rhythm of his ruts is tantalizing, but it feels so good having his length scrape your insides. "Pleaseee, go fasteeer—"

"Want it faster? Nnmmm, damn, I'll go faster, baby." When the moment is right, his thrusts quicken the cadence, provoking more blissful whimpers to fill the silent room.

Your hands find purchase on his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. And Nanami takes the notion as a signal for him to dial up the speed, thrusting so deep into your pussy with an erratic tempo. Pelvis smacking hard on your slit and tender clit that it has you seeing stars.

"Hmmm, Ahh—Ahhhh! Ohhhh, fucking shit!" The harsh ruts to your lower half keep your ground to the table beneath you, sweat sticking your clothes to your back. The sounds of skin slapping each other are on par with your pornographic noises, having you feel indecent and shameful. But it's too late now.

"Hmmph! Oh, fuck," husky groans exit from Nanami, the man putting his forehead on yours. "You feel so good and tight around me, love. So close to—Ahhhh!! Shit, so close to cumming.."

You swallow the spit that secretes your mouth. "Haaaah, Kentoooo—" your eyes are shut to wholly focus on the commotion beneath you. Your sexes smacking each other, forcing you to clench around him with every thrust of the hips. "I'm about to—Nnnaaahh!! Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna cummm!"

He kisses your forehead. "You want to cum, sweet pea?"

"Yesssss, please, please, pleaseee!!" Begging for your release is all you can do as your mind turns into mush, the familiar sensation crawling back to haunt you.

He hushes your cries with his lips on yours, the final kiss filled with scorching passion while Nanami pistons a few thrusts plunging to your vulva.

Your orgasm washes over you again, and you moan blissfully into the blonde's mouth. Your gushy walls flutter around his member for the last time, coating it with your essence. And Nanami had to be quick not to sink too deep into the feeling, or else he'd spill his release into you. He removed himself from your lips and body, ejaculating his load onto your bare stomach, and you gasped at the contact of his fluids spilling on your exposed skin.

You look up to survey the man before you, and you're met with an image you never thought you'd see. Blonde hair that was once slicked neatly now had messy strands that framed his face beautifully. Sweat covered his sculpted physique, and hooded brown eyes examined your body under him.

Letting the silence calm the both of you down from your aftershocks, Nanami glances at your face and smiles. He brings a hand to cup your cheek, brushing off tears that painted your face.

"Glad to have you this semester. Have a good summer, darling."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!

An abrupt sound has you stop writing on the entry, bringing you back to the present time.

It sounded like it came from the front door, so you stuff your diary into your bag and exit the room to find out who's causing all the ruckus. When you open the door, the first thing that enters your line of vision is pink hair.

Your friend, Yuuji Itadori.

"Yo!" He greets you. "Ready to go? I called up your phone like four times."

"Oh, you did? Sorry, I must've forgotten to put it back on vibrate after the exam." You move out of the way for Yuuji to enter your dorm, closing the door behind him. "My stuff is in my room. I got two suitcases, a duffel bag, and my backpack."

"Alright then, let's hurry and get out of here! Think we can take the freeway since it's late at night, and traffic should be gone by now."

Yuuji grabs your two suitcases and heads outside to put them inside the trunk of his car. You walk around to check and see if anything is missing or misplaced before heading to your room and grabbing the other bags.

Yet before you leave the space entirely, you grab your diary again and write your final thoughts.

...I don't know what possessed me to let what happened happen. But, at the same time, I don't hate it for happening? I don't know...it was probably the feelings of spring taking over me or the relief that I finished all my exams.

But one thing is for sure; if I wasn't the last person to leave that classroom, none of that would've happened. I wouldn't have experienced that new side of Professor Nanami.

And as long as this keeps between me and him, then I'm kinda glad that it happened.

962 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 months

Note

20 & 28 from the prompt list pls!

20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

28. “I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.”

smut prompts

—————————————————————-

“He did what?” Harry’s jaw fell open as his dear friend, Y/N, told him about why she was newly single.

“He accepted a job across the country and expected me to drop everything to go with him! He didn’t even tell me he was looking for other opportunities. I mean, it’s a big step up for him, but to assume I’d quit my own job to go play house with him??? My whole family is here. I’d be sick to my stomach knowing I couldn’t see my nephews as regularly as I do now.” She sighed heavily and looked at her friend. “Can I crash here for a few days? If I go back to my place, I know he’ll show up and try to convince me to go with him again.”

“So, it’s over, just like that?”

“Yup. I’m not sabotaging my own career for a man. We’re clearly on different wave lengths, I guess it’s better to find out now.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Of course you can stay with me. Stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you.” She wraps her arms around his neck and sighs. “You’re such a good friend.”

Harry’s been waiting for Y/N and her boyfriend to break up for ages. He’s not one of those guys who’s only friends with a girl because he wants it to lead to more. That would be shitty of him. But he and Y/N have been friends for a while now, and as years have gone by, he’s started looking at her differently. A tiny crush started to bloom. He noticed how her laugh made him feel and how her smile gave him butterflies. It was gradual, natural. But he wasn’t sure how to bring this up to her, and there was never a good time. She was in a relationship, and he assumed she was happy, so he never let on about his feelings.

But now, Y/N is single. Harry’s not going to pounce on her right away. He knows she’ll need time to grieve the loss of her relationship. He also doesn’t want her to think he’s taking advantage of the vulnerable state she’s in. So, he’ll continue being the good friend that he is, and when the time is right, he’ll tell her how he feels.

Y/N was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve. She didn’t cry in public. She wanted people to think she was fine at all times. But after a month or so of being single, she found herself moping around a lot. She thought about her ex all the time. She hated it, but it was hard not to think of him. She wanted to know how his new job was going because she still cared. But then she’d remind herself that he probably doesn’t care how she’s doing, and then she’d distract herself with something to do.

Then, on a random Tuesday, two months later, a mutual friend sent her a message saying her ex was in a new relationship. He was posting her on main, laughing and smiling.

And that’s when Y/N finally cracked. She cried. She cried her eyes out until they were swollen and puffy. She couldn’t sleep when she tried to go to bed, so she texted Harry and asked if she could come over. He said yes.

“I don’t even know why I care.” She groaned as she told him about the ordeal. “How are men able to move on so quickly? I think about him every day. He always crosses my mind. I’m not even doing it on purpose. He probably never thinks about me.”

“He probably thinks about you all the time and started dating again to fill the void. That’s what I would do if I fucked up as badly as he did.”

“You know what bugs me the most? I have confirmation that he’s having sex. Someone else is giving him orgasms when all I’ve had for the last three months are my own hands and my vibrator. I’m too scared to meet some random dude from an app. I’m losing my mind, Harry. I feel like a feral cat in heat.” She chugs some water and takes a deep breath.

“You’re that horny, huh?”

“You have no idea. Masturbating and watching porn is fun and all, don’t get me wrong, but after a while it’s not exactly exciting. Feels like a chore.”

“I’m going to propose something, and I really want you to think about it before you decide it isn’t a good idea.” He runs a hand through his hair. “What if we had sex?”

“We, like, you and I?”

“Yeah.”

“No offense, but the idea of being pity fucked by my friend isn’t exactly getting my panties wet.”

“It’s not a pity fuck. Don’t be mad, but I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a very long time.”

“Great, so you’ve only been friends with me-“

“Don’t even go there because it’s not like that. We’ve been friends for five years. The last two, you were dating that asshole. A crush sort of snuck up on me around the time you and him started dating. I felt weirdly jealous every time you’d blow our friend group off to go be with him. And when I really thought about why, I realized that it was because I liked you as more than a friend.”

“You’ve liked me for two years?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You were in love with him. I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I’m fine if we just stay friends. I want you in my life, I don’t care how.”

“Why didn’t you make a move right after we broke up?”

“Other than not wanting to be your rebound, I knew you just needed a friend. You were vulnerable, I couldn’t take advantage of that.”

“You’d really want to fuck so quickly? Don’t you want to take me out on a date first?”

“You’re not the only one who feels feral, Y/N.”

“I can’t believe how stupid and oblivious I am.” She slides her hands down her face. “You’re a great guy, I’d be lucky to date you. My family already adores you. We practically go on dates all the time as it is.” She facepalms, then looks at him. “You really would fuck me right now?”

“Yes. Do…are you even attracted to me…sexually?”

“Harry, you’re the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m attracted to you.”

“How would I have known that?! I’m not a mind reader!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, I’m sad!”

“You’ve been sad for three goddamn months.” He steps towards her, backing her up to the sink counter, caging her in. “And I’m over it. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

“Oh, wow.” Her eyelids become hooded as she looks at him. “Yes.” She nods. “Please, I want that. I want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“Good. Jump.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and jumps so she can wrap her legs around his waist. Harry’s mouth crashes to hers as he carries her to his bedroom. Y/N feels lightheaded as he lays her down, staying on top of her. Her fingers squeeze at his hair as she licks into his mouth. He tastes like mint, and it makes her moan. His hands slide up under her shirt, pawing at her breasts over her bra.

“Fuck, just take it off. Take it all off.” She whines, and he smirks down at her.

“Look who’s all eager all of a sudden.” He sits up and takes his own shirt off. Before he can reach for Y/N’s, she’s tackling him down and sponging kisses to his chest. Her tongue glides down over his butterfly tattoo. She inches further down until she’s nosing at his erection over his joggers. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“Don’t care, want it.” She tucks her fingers into the waistband of his joggers and looks up at him. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

He lifts his hips to help her and she gets the garment off. She kisses him over his briefs and licks his tip through the material. She even takes it into her mouth like this, and it rips a moan from Harry’s throat. Her eyes snap to his, completely blown out.

“God, I should have known you were vocal.” She whimpers. She tugs his briefs down and wastes no time getting the head of Harry’s cock into her mouth. She runs her tongue over his slit and suckles on the blurts of precome oozing out. She wraps her hand around him and slides her mouth off. “Jesus, you’re so big. I’m gonna see if I can get it down my throat.”

“You don’t have to, what you did before felt great.” He runs a hand through her hair and whimpers again.

“No, I want to choke on it. I really like giving head.”

“That’s something we have in common.” He smirks.

She spits onto his tip and takes him back into her mouth. She doesn’t go slow, she goes down fast and chokes, then pulls off, spitting on him to make it wet and messy, then she repeats. She does it until her throat can handle keeping him there for a moment. She swallows around him a few times before coming off and pumping him with her hand.

“Do you want to come in my mouth?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl and swallow it?”

“Fuck, and you’re kinky?! Should’ve done this a long time ago, Harry.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I’ll swallow it.”

“Then go on and take it.”

She’s not pretty about it. She chokes and gags and sucks and bobs until Harry’s spurting rope after rope down her throat. He sits up after she pulls off and slots his mouth over hers. He grips the hem of her short and lifts it off. She unhooks her bra and lays back on the bed. Her back arches the second Harry’s tongue is circling her nipple.

“Best tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” He growls as he works his way to her other nipple. “So big and soft.”

“You don’t mind that they’re not all perky?”

“Why would I? A boob is a boob is a boob.” He sucks a good amount of one into his mouth, leaving marks from his teeth on her sensitive skin. He kisses down her stomach and hooks his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes.” She smiles softly. “And my panties too, please. I don’t like the feeling of sitting in my cold, wetness.”

“Heard.” He pulls both of the garments off and tosses them to the floor before splitting her thighs open. She’s glistening for him. He wells up some spit and watches it fall on and down her slit. “So fucking pretty.”

He spreads her lips apart, running his fingers through her sticky folds. His thumbs spread apart the top so he can find her clit. He taps on it with his finger, making her gasp.

“Did I find it, baby?” It’s rhetorical because before she can answer, his licking over it.

He wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, rapidly. He flicks the tip of his tongue over it, swirls it around, spits on it, then goes back to sucking. The sounds are wet and obscene. Y/N has a hand stuffed in his hair while the other clutches at the sheets. She moans out when she feels his middle finger sink inside her.

“So fucking tight.” He groans.

“I can take another, please, wanna feel you stretch me out.”

Harry grins and lets his ring finger join the middle. He works them in and out of her, wanting to prep her hole for what’s to come. Then he lets them stay deep inside and curls them to her front wall as he shallowly thrusts in and out. He gets his mouth back on her clit and uses his free hand to keep her thigh down and open.

“Fuck, just like that.” Her head rolls back and her mouth hangs open as she rolls her hips forward to meet his thrusts. “Harry, shit, you’re so good. Don’t stop.” Her toes start curling and her legs start shaking, and Harry laughs so sinisterly low that it makes her head dizzy. One of her heels digs into his shoulder blade. She’s panting and moaning and writing under him. “Oh, oh fuck.” She feels the coil deep in her belly about to snap. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop.” The bed starts creaking and the headboard starts thudding against the wall. Harry’s rutting his hips into the mattress and moaning into her. “Harry, Harry, Harryyyyyy, fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her back arches off the bed as she lets go. Harry fucks her through it, keeping his fingers deep inside her. He gives her throbbing clit a break, then slowly takes his fingers out when he hears her breathing evening out.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth, and his surprised when Y/N grips his jaw to pull him down to her. He takes his fingers out and replaces them with her mouth. They moan against each other, both relishing in the filthy kiss.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you hard again?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s some good stamina.” She smirks.

“Eating you out made me hard again. Taste so fucking good.” He reaches into his side table drawer and pulls out a foil packet. He sits back on his feet and rips it open to roll onto his cock.

“Do you mind if I play the role of a pillow princess? Kind of want you to just do what you want with me.”

“Yeah? Does being used turn you on?”

“Like this…by you…it does.”

“This might hurt a little since it’s been a while for you. If you need me to stop, just tell me and I will.”

“Okay.”

Harry lines himself up and slowly pushes inside. Y/N bites into his shoulder. The stretch burns, but the pain soon turns to pleasure once he’s all the way in. His tip is already nudging into her g-spot.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you. You can move.”

He pulls out about halfway before thrusting back in. Y/N is so sweet for him, he slips out a couple of times before he can get a rhythm going. He sits up and throws her legs over his shoulders, pounding into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. She raises her hips and starts moaning uncontrollably. The angle is perfect. He thumbs at her clit, and her nails dig into the meat of his thighs.

“I’m getting close.” She twitches under him, wanting to close her legs to get some relief, but she can’t. “Please, don’t stop.” She whimpers up at him. “Feels so good.”

“Love watching you take it.” He grunts. “We fit so perfectly, your pussy was made for me.”

“Oh, fuck!” Apparently, that’s all she needed in order to come. She drenches his cock, which surprises the both of them. “Oh my god!” She cries out, a second wave of pleasure washing over her. It’s like the never ending orgasm. “Please tell me I didn’t just pee on you.” She sits up on her elbows and is mortified by the wet spot between them. “I had all that water beforehand-“

“You didn’t pee, Y/N.” Harry chuckles. “You just squirted a little. Well, a lot, but you know what I mean.”

“I’ve never done that before.” She blinks.

“Poor thing.” He pouts down at her. “Didn’t it feel so good to get a release like that?” He places his hands on the back of her thighs and pushes them down until her knees are on either side of her head. “Hm?”

“Yes, felt amazing.”

“I’ll make you do it again, baby, don’t worry. Gonna give it to you like you deserve. Hold your legs there for me.” He grips her hips and starts moving her on and off his cock. He watches as her eyes roll back and he laughs lowly. “Feel good?”

“Soooo good, oh my god.”

His fingers comes together and he slaps her clit, over and over and over until she’s panting and crying out and making a mess. He pulls out to move her onto her side. She sighs contently, happy to give her legs a break. But it’s not long until Harry is putting one of her legs over his shoulder and sliding back in, fucking her from the side.

“Christ, can feel you in my guts.”

“M’not hitting your cervix right? It still feels good?”

“Feels amazing, keep going.”

“Rub your clit. I wanna come at the same time.”

She slides her hand down and touches herself. She could honestly come from the sound of Harry moaning alone, but his cock beating into her g-spot is also a big help. She screams his name as she comes, making another mess. Harry grunts and whimpers and moans as he fills the condom.

He waits until they’ve both caught their breaths to pull out. Y/N rolls onto her back while Harry throws the condom away. The bed creaks as he lays back down next to her. Her lower half twitches every so often, her thighs still quivering.

“I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.” He turns onto his side and draws shapes into her belly.

“Shut up.” She breathes. “I can’t even feel them.”

“You should really come with me to Pilates more often.”

“Who needs Pilates when you’re going to be fucking me like that regularly?” She turns her head to the side to look at him.

“Oh, am I going to be fucking you regularly? I didn’t get that memo.” He smirks.

“Yes, generally, when two people start dating, they fuck regularly.”

“Are you serious?” He sits up, hope painted all over his face. “You can really see us being a romantic couple?”

“Yeah.” She smiles up at him and caresses his cheek. “I’d really like to give this a shot.”

“Oh, Y/N, that makes me so happy.” He moves to lay on top of her and buries his face in her neck. She holds him to her chest, content with having his weight on her.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being you.”

He moves to look at her and pecks her lips. “You’re welcome.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #prompts

347 notes · View notes

unseededtoast · 5 months

Text

When Was It Over? | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: You had suspicions that another woman was receiving Spencer’s affections, and one night your worst fears are confirmed. Heartbroken, you try to move on but find yourself contemplating when things went wrong, and when it was all over. Inspired by “Is It Over Now?” By Taylor Swift

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.7k

content warnings: infidelity, angst, mention of blood

a/n: thank all of you lovelies for taking the time and reading, I appreciate each and every one of you. But especially to @mirdnightmass who suggested this, thank you🫶🏼 and if you have any suggestions please send them my way!

Woven into the fabric of the blanket is a blonde hair. And it most certainly isn't yours. No, the color is wrong and it's not the right length. Your eyes are glued to the hair, blood ice in your veins and chest sore from devastation.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

- - - - -

Reading the words on your phone screen cause you stomach to turn with anxiety. Spencer had texted you that he will be home from a case tonight, and that he'd like to come over. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue and you'd be overjoyed to see him. But lately you suspect that there might be someone else entering the picture.

Your suspicions started small. He'd take phone calls that weren't from his boss, he would purposely order an extra coffee in the mornings to take to work, and he started working later than usual. Though you had no concrete proof of anything, it was a gut feeling that you just can't seem to shake.

But you push your anxiety aside and text Spencer back, letting him know that he's more than welcome to come over tonight. And as soon as you send the message, you put your phone away and clean your home to occupy your thoughts.

All too soon, Spencer's knocking on your door and you let him in with a smile on your face. He kisses you as he comes through, smelling oddly sweet. Fighting the urge to throw up, you convince yourself not to overreact until you're certain there's someone else in his life.

Throughout the evening, while the two of you are tangled together on the couch, you peek at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder where things started going wrong. There's a tension between the two of you, and though unspoken, its presence is well known.

You remember how only a few short months ago you would have been beyond excited to spend an evening with Spencer, and now you find yourself counting down the minutes until he leaves. He used to shower you in love and affection, but now his hand barely grazes your thigh.

When Spencer leaves for the night, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a goodnight. You realize as you shut the door that he hadn't told you that he loved you once.

- - - - -

Two weeks pass and Spencer has once again come back home from a case. This time his message asks you if you'd like to come over to his apartment. And you tell him you'll be there, but there's an odd sinking feeling residing in your chest.

Later in the evening you go to Spencer's apartment with distant memories dancing in your head. It seems like just yesterday you came here for the first time, bright eyed and head over heels in love with your boyfriend, who couldn't have been more perfect.

You walk in and place your coat on the rack beside the door, smiling at Spencer who stands with his hands in his pockets. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you wonder if he's even going to lay a finger on you tonight.

"How was your day?" He finally breaks the silence and you nod your head,

"It was okay. Just went to work and now I'm here." The conversation feels like one between new coworkers, not significant others of three years.

"Come on in, I rented your favorite movie and dinner should be here any minute." He finally takes a step towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head atop yours.

Feeling his arms hold you for the first time in almost a month is almost enough to drive you to tears. You take in his scent as it comforts you, and you nuzzle your head into his chest, wishing that whatever was happening between the two of you would pass and things would go back to normal. You miss Spencer's affections, your heart yearns to hear him declare his love for you.

After dinner, the two of you retire in the living room where you take your usual spot on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped over the back, and you pull it over top of you, but your heart stops once it lands in your lap.

Spencer walks into the room after getting a glass of water, but he falls short of sitting beside you. He must've noticed something was wrong in the way you're sat on the couch.

While Spencer watches, you grab the hair between your thumb and pointer finger, pulling it through the fabric and hold it in front of you, eyes meeting Spencer's. Your hand shakes as adrenaline pumps through you, Spencer's jaw falls slack.

"What is this?" Your voice is oddly even and calm given the situation. Spencer's mouth opens and closes a few times before he clears his throat and answers you.

"A friend had to crash here for a few nights." He admits, and you wonder why you're just now hearing of this.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

"JJ, I work with her." He says, eyes casting down to the hair still in your grasp. Your heart wildly pumps in your chest.

"So you weren't going to tell me that a woman was staying the night with you?" Finally releasing the hair from your grasp, the realization dawns on you and it's like the puzzle pieces you'd collected over the last few weeks have suddenly put themselves together.

"No, she just needed a place to sleep for a few nights." He says, like he's also trying to convince himself of the same thing.

"Spencer don't lie to me. I know you've been taking coffee to her in the mornings, you've been staying later, and the last time you came over you smelled like her." Your voice starts to shake and you step away from Spencer. Tears well in your eyes and you beg your body not to betray you right now.

"She's just a friend." Is all Spencer refutes your argument with. Your head shakes back and forth, the reality setting in.

"Spencer you've taken better care of her than you have me. Hell, last time we saw each other you barely touched me and you didn't even tell me you love me. And tonight you're doing the same thing." Your throat feels like it's closing up from battling your emotions.

As you wait for him to say something, anything, your bottom lip trembles. Where did this all go wrong? Was there anything you could've done? Could you have held him tighter or kissed him more? The questions race through your mind but are cut short by Spencer.

"I'm sorry. We were on a case and she told me she loves me. But, I promise you that she is just a friend." The words that leave his lips are like knives being dug into your eardrums. And with his words, the tears resting in your lash line fall over and cascade down your cheeks, one right after another.

"How could you? Spencer, how could you? We had everything going for us. I love you with every fiber of my being. I thought you were the love of my life. But now you're just, you're just a lying traitor." You force the words out before you completely break down. Turning away from him, you rush to collect your things.

You're not even sure you put your shoes on the right feet but you don't care. The door of Spencer's apartment swings open and you take one last look at him. His mouth is open, eyes wet, but he says nothing.

He doesn't try to stop you as you leave his apartment, and that makes you sob even harder on your way home.

Is this really how things are ending between you?

- - - - -

"Come on have some fun!" Your friend, Sarah, nudges your shoulder, interrupting your daydream. It's a Friday night and the weather is nice, so she's begging to go out.

"I don't know Sarah, I'm not really in the mood." Your tone is melancholy, and all you want to do is crawl into bed. With a huff, Sarah steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders so that you're forced to look at her.

"You need this. I haven't seen you smile in weeks. Come on, go get ready. It'll be good for you." Her voice is kind, and soft, and you know she's only trying to help. As your lifelong best friend, she's always been in your corner with support and love.

"Fine." You relent, and go find something to wear. You're in no mood for anything uncomfortable or flashy, so you settle on a loose button up and a pair of ripped jeans.

"You look so good!" Sarah tries to hype you up as she grabs her keys, but it doesn't really work. You can't feel good while you're suffering on the inside. With her arm slung around your shoulder, you accompany her to whatever she has planned for tonight.

"Really?" You deadpan ask her as you stare at the neon light adorning the front of the building. This is quite literally the last place you wanted to be tonight, but here you are.

"Yes, it'll be fun, come on." Sarah grabs your hand and drags you alongside into the bar where the music is too loud and the people are even more annoying.

Against your wishes, you line up at the bar and wait to gain the bartender's attention. You figure if you're going to be here you'll need something to numb the experience. Sarah knows you've never been a fan of crowded places so you're confused as to why she even brought you here in the first place.

Once the two of you have your drinks in hand, you find an empty table and take a seat. As you sip, you look around at the patrons; people watching has always been quite enjoyable for you. Your eyes scan the bar and land on a tall man across the way. His smile is wide, hair dark and curly, eyes bright and soft.

Blinking rapidly, you pull your eyes away from the man and order another drink. Guilt eats you from inside as you realize you had been checking out another man; albeit one that looks oddly familiar. And surely another drink will help numb the guilt as well.

Hours later and two drinks turned into four. You feel your cheeks warm from the alcohol, and you're keenly aware that your eyes are back on the tall, handsome man from earlier.

"You should go say something." Sarah says, leaning on the table as she nurses her drink. Shaking your head, you disagree.

"No, I can't." You say, almost as if convincing yourself of your own answer. You're not even sure if you and Spencer are over, you can't possibly go introduce yourself to another man.

"Come on. He's been looking at you all night." She nudges you out of your seat and through the power of liquid courage, you relent.

Turning away from Sarah, you find the man easily and take a quick deep breath. It doesn't take you long to cross the bar and in seconds, you find yourself staring up at the man's green eyes. He's got a small smile on his face, his eyes gleam with curiosity.

"Hi." You smile up at the man, who smiles back.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing talking to a man like me?" He smiles wider, showing off his perfectly white teeth. Your eyes dance from the man's smile to his eyes, relishing in their familiarity.

"My friend said I should come say something." You tell him, having nothing actually prepared to say to him beyond an introduction. The man finishes off his drink and looks over to where Sarah is. He nods,

"Well I'm glad she did. Can I get you another?" He raises the empty glass in his hand. While you feel a little tipsy, you know one more wouldn't hurt.

"Sure." You smile up at him and watch as he goes to order the two of you another drink.

While he's away, you glance over to Sarah, who's smiling at you and giving you a thumbs up across the bar. You suppress your smile, but you're thankful she's still here; she wouldn't leave you alone with a stranger and you know she'll be here to make sure you're okay. Her reassuring presence is probably why you agreed to approach the man in the first place.

The man comes back with two glasses in his hands, and he gives you one of them. He invites you back to his table, which is only a few feet away from where you are standing, and the two of you get to know each other. You learn that he's from the area, he works in finance for a fortune 500 company, and he recently got out of a long-term relationship.

You share how your relationship status is hugely unknown at this point, but spare him the details for your own pride's sake. Thankfully, he doesn't inquire and the conversation flows easily. He even makes you laugh a time or two, which hasn't happened in weeks.

As the night goes on, you find yourself sitting closer and closer to the man, drawn in by how he reminds you of someone you dearly miss. It's entirely clear to you why you're attracted to the man, but you push all of those thoughts away, the alcohol working diligently to cloud your logic and judgment and all you can focus on is the man's lips.

Not even twenty minutes later, you're pulling him in by the front of his shirt, crashing his lips onto yours. His hands hold your waist securely, and his lips move in tandem with your own. The taste of sweetness lingers between the two of you. Your body moves on its own volition, and in the heat of the moment you find yourself practically sitting in the man's lap. Thankfully, the table you two are at is tucked away in the corner, but you're still entirely visible to everyone else. However, that doesn't seem to matter as you place kisses on the man's jaw and down to his neck.

His hands move from your waist up to the first button of your shirt where he expertly undoes it. Your wet lips place another kiss on the man's neck, just underneath his ear like you're used to doing with someone else, and the feeling of another button being undone makes you realize what's happening.

Backing away from the kiss abruptly, your heart drops to your stomach. Your fingers work quickly to clasp the buttons on your shirt and you get off of the man, who looks confused and hurt.

"I'm sorry, I can't- I shouldn't have..." You trail off, giving him no specific answer as you turn around and find Sarah.

She must have been able to tell from the look on your face that you're ready to leave. And thankfully she doesn't ask you a single question on the way back to your house. The entire trip back, you stare out the window and wonder why you let that happen, and how you could've let yourself kiss another man. But mostly you just think about how it should've been Spencer.

Sarah drops you off and wishes you a goodnight, and you half-heartedly tell her goodbye.

Your mind is too preoccupied as you go through your nightly routine and by the time your head hits the pillow, your thoughts have shifted from the unknown man's lips to Spencer's.

You remember how his hands would map out every curve of your body and how his lips would kiss your tender skin, as if you'd break if he wasn't careful. Spencer would always hold you close to him as he showered you in love and affection, his hands unable to get enough of you. Even if the two of you were relaxing on the couch, he would always find a way to touch you, whether that meant you were cuddled in his arms or barely touching his shoulder.

A lone tear drips down your face as you try to sleep, missing having Spencer beside you, missing the feeling of his arms around you, and you know you'll miss seeing his gemstone eyes first thing when you wake up. You mourn the relationship, and can't help but wonder if your actions tonight were the final nail in the coffin.

That night, all you can dream about is Spencer, and how in love you used to be.

- - - - -

Awaking earlier than wanted, Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes the best he can. It's still dark outside, but he knows that he's not going to be able to fall back asleep. And even if he did, he knows that the only thing he will dream about is you.

The past few weeks all of his dreams have centered around you. At first, they were about how you two met and your first few dates. They were vivid, almost as if they were happening all over again. He could clearly see the tulips he picked for your first date, and he remembers the shade of lipstick you wore that brought out your eyes in the best way possible.

As he makes his way through his morning routine, he's distracted by the traces of you that remain in his apartment. You still have clothes in his dresser, your toothbrush still sits on his bathroom counter. And most noticeably, your scent still lingers on his sheets.

But, his apartment now has traces of JJ too. Her blonde hair sticks to the blankets draped over the couch, her perfume embedded in the material. She had left a hair tie on his coffee table and the mug she used for coffee sits untouched in the sink.

Spencer knows that her confession of love was mainly spurred on by a life or death situation, but he would be lying if he said it didn't reawaken repressed feelings. Back in his early days at the BAU, he had been head over heels for her, but he moved on when she got together with Will. And truthfully, when he met you it was the happiest he had ever been, and he was convinced that you were his soul mate.

That was until JJ told him that she loved him.

A heavy feeling of guilt has taken residence in Spencer's chest since you walked out of his apartment. He knew that you had every right to be upset, and truthfully he doesn't know if the two of you will ever reconcile. As you walked out of the door he wanted to stop you, to beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't. He had to let you go.

Staring at the couch, he can't help but wonder if your relationship had died the moment he let JJ stay over, the moment she laid on his couch could've been the exact moment your relationship took its last breath. Had that one decision been the beginning of the end?

And he can't help but wonder why he agreed to let her stay in the first place, after a confession of that magnitude, and why he hadn't told you. Was it his subconscious way of admitting he also has feelings for JJ, and that by allowing her to stay in his home it was an acknowledgment of that fact? Had he not told you because of the feelings he harbors for her? Would telling you force him to confront those emotions?

No matter what it may have meant, he can't help but to regret it. The look on your face as you called him a lying traitor will forever be ingrained in his mind. Spencer had never meant to hurt you, no, he loved you dearly.

As each day passes by without hearing from you, Spencer wonders if things are truly over for the two of you. His heart aches from your absence and he yearns to have you back in his arms. But he can't help but feel guilty as he realizes that he may have some of those same feelings for JJ.

- - - - -

Months had gone by since you last saw Spencer, and you finally feel like you can begin to heal. It took some time for you to process what had happened, and now you've come to be at peace with his decision. If he wanted to search for something greater, and found it in her, then there's nothing you could've done.

On a regular routine again, you enter your favorite coffee shop on your way to your new job, needing the extra caffeine. The warm air inside greets you and the rich scent of coffee fills the air.

After you order your usual, you stand off to the side to wait, pushing yourself up against a wall so that other people have room to move around. The lightly falling snow outside catches your attention and from the warmth of inside you can appreciate the beauty.

The barista calls your name out as the front door bell jingles. Grabbing your drink, you relish in how the warmth gives life back to your fingertips before turning to leave, preparing yourself to brace the bitter cold that awaits you outside.

But as your eyes land on the people who had just walked in, it seems as if the wintry cold followed you in after all. Spencer stands at the counter with a blonde haired, blue-eyed, woman next to him who looks like she just walked out of a magazine. Their cheeks are rosy from the cold, but you feel yours drain of all color. And if that wasn't enough, it's like your feet have been superglued to the floor, forcing you to watch as he orders for her with a smile on his face.

It seems he found something greater after all.

After the initial wave of sadness washes over you, you feel a familiar fire within you. Jealousy is an ugly beast, but you can't help the way your eyebrows knit together as you watch them, your thoughts consumed with how that should be you next to him, how it used to be you.

In fact, your jealously goes so far as to create hundreds of impulsive plans to earn his attention away from her. If you spilled your coffee, surely that would do the trick. Or if you tripped on your way out, that would be sure to make him look. Even the fleeting thought of jumping from the roof makes an appearance; the only consequence you can think of is how he'd surely come running straight to you.

But your imaginative plans are all for naught, as they grab their drinks and leave together. She laughs at something he said as the door shuts behind them. And you're still stuck in the middle of the coffee shop with one question floating around in your mind.

Did he really choose her over you?

- - - - -

Staring out of your window that's been frosted over with fresh snow, you can't help but to ponder how exactly you got to be where you are right now. In three days it'll be Christmas, and you've never dreaded the holiday more than you do in this moment.

A few evenings ago you had been rummaging through your closet and found the gift you planned on giving Spencer this Christmas. It was simple, but you knew he'd love it. He had always worn a purple scarf during the colder months, and when you saw this one you just knew he needed it. It was another scarf, but the seamstress who was selling it offered to stitch something on the back of it, and so you had asked her to stitch your initials on the back, so that even while he was away on cases he still had a piece of you with him.

Now the gift lays wrapped on your coffee table, where it silently taunts you with thoughts of what could've been. You stare at it, wondering if you should give it away, throw it away, send it through the mail, or do nothing with it at all.

Unable to look at the box any longer, you take it and put it with the rest of Spencer's things you intend to give back to him soon. Having his belongings in your home is slowly starting to drive you mad, and you know that in order to have any shot of getting over him, it all has to be gone.

In a momentary burst of determination, you grab the box of his belongings that sits in the back of your closet and you take it out to your car, despite the fact that the air is so cold it burns your face and that the snow is coming down at a considerable rate. You figure he's had you in his grasp for too long now and it's time to start reclaiming your home, your life, and begin piecing together who you're going to be after Spencer Reid.

The box is haphazardly shoved into your back seat and your hand quickly grazes the side of a book he had left on your nightstand, and as your luck would have it, you managed to give yourself a papercut. You hold your hand out of the car so you don't get blood on any of his things before closing the door with haste.

Your eyes cast down at the bright, crimson red blood that dots the pristine snow below your feet. Drops of blood roll down your finger and drip from the tip, each drip creating its own prominent mark in the snow. And you can't help but feel like it's more than just blood on the snow, that somehow it symbolizes how you may have very well killed what remained of your relationship with Spencer.

But he gave you no other choice.

- - - - -

Your insides twist and turn with anxiousness as you park your car along the street of a familiar curb. Looking back down at your phone screen, you confirm that this is the time you're supposed to be here before getting out of your car and picking up the box from the back seat.

After Christmas you had sent Spencer a text asking if you could come by and get your things that you had left in his apartment, and thankfully he agreed. You hadn't told him that you were bringing his things, and he hadn't asked for them, but you figured it was just common courtesy to bring them anyways. Plus you can't stand looking at the box any longer, all it does it resurface memories of a better time, one where you were happy and in love. Neither of those things are true anymore.

Walking up the stairs, you remember how excited you were the first time to come over and how you were awestruck by how well he decorated for a man. Of course you added a few things here and there over the years, but soon there will be no trace of you left. Your heart sinks with the realization that Spencer's apartment will no longer be your second home, his arms will no longer be your safe haven.

Once you reach his door, you knock lightly. You had partially hoped that he would just leave your things in the hall, and that the exchange would be easy, but of course he wouldn't do that. And within seconds of knocking on the door, he answers. His hair is messy and he's opted for his glasses today, your favorite look on him. Swallowing hard, you hold the box out in front of you.

"I think this is everything." Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. He steps further inside his apartment,

"Come on in." He invites you, and you wonder if you should accept. You know that if you walk in that a plethora of memories will invade your mind, and you know that if you don't that you may never receive the closure you need. After a few moments of contemplation, you step inside.

You place the box on the ground and put your hands in your pockets as you look around. The decorations you had placed around various locations are no longer there adorning the shelves or the walls, your spare coat no longer hangs from the rack beside the front door, and your handwritten notes are no longer on the front of the fridge. You swallow again and avert your eyes, pleading with yourself to not cry in front of him. But as your eyes move elsewhere, you spot a photograph that still hangs on the wall in his living room.

It was a sunny day in the early spring, and the two of you had just celebrated your one year anniversary. The two of you agreed that a nice picnic would be more than enough of a celebration, and honestly you were just happy that he wasn't being dragged away on a case that day. The two of you laid side by side on the blanket in the plush grass, content with one another's presence, fingers interlaced as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand. Before the sun went down you had asked him to take the picture, and you always loved how bright his smile was that day.

"This should be everything." He comes back into the entryway with a box in his arms. You spot every little decoration you had ever brought over, along with your clothes that you had almost forgotten about. Spencer places the box on the ground as well, and you nod, clearing the emotion from your throat.

"Thank you." You say and go to pick up your box and get out of his apartment. Truthfully, there's a part within you that wants him to beg you to stay, you hope that he will profess his undying love for you and that you won't have to leave.

No matter how heartbroken you are over his decision, you know that you would take him back in a heartbeat. Your soul still aches for his touch and you're not sure that feeling will ever fade. The intensity with which you love him is passionate and all encompassing. For just another moment in his arms, you can't even begin to list everything you would give and sacrifice. His hugs were always the most comforting, his words always sweet and honeyed, his lips always soft.

Until they were for the blonde-haired woman who came in and took everything from you.

Once the box is in your hands, you give him a weak smile and are almost brought to tears just by looking at his face. Your sweet, sweet Spencer is so close yet has never been farther away. Feeling tears well in your lash line, you commit to memory just how beautiful he is for what is very well the final time you'll ever see him.

In an instant, flashes of what your future could've been runs through your mind. You see the two of you hand in hand at the end of an aisle, long nights of waiting for him to come back home only to be greeted with the most loving kisses, and countless mornings waking up in his arms. You were prepared to give him everything, but now you're left with nothing except the memories of when he still loved you.

Giving him one last chance to say something, your hope begins fizzling out. There's only one thing you want to hear him say, and you're coming to understand that you'll likely never hear those words come from his mouth.

When it's clear that there's nothing left to say, you turn and open the front door. Before the door gets closed on you, you turn to look at him just one last time. You think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you can almost swear you see a tear fall from his eye.

"Goodbye, Spencer." You say as a lone tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Feeling your bottom lip beginning to tremble, you make yourself walk away before you have a full breakdown in the hallway right in front of him.

The ride back home is silent, except for the occasional sound of your sniffles. Before the exchange of belongings, you had held out hope that it meant that there might still be hope. But now there's nothing left to give you hope.

It seems things are really over now.

- - - - -

Spencer's phone lights up on his counter, catching his eye as he was walking by. Glancing at it quickly, he sees your name attached to the message. He picks the phone up and reads the message that reads less like a text and more like a cordial email.

"Hi, hope all is well. I was wondering if there is a time that I could come by and collect the rest of my things?"

The words make his heart sink, but he replies and lets you know when he'll be home. He knew that this day would eventually come, but he wasn't prepared for it to be so soon. Placing his phone back down on the counter, he looks around and notices just how many traces there are of you everywhere he looks.

In every part of his apartment he can easily recall a memory the two of you made there. The kitchen is where he remembers making cookies together on a friday night, the living room reminds him of the times you fell asleep in his lap, and the bedroom reminds him of all the mornings he was lucky enough to be awoken by your gentle kisses.

But he respects your wishes and begins collecting your things, committing each one to memory. With each and every little item he packs away, he finds himself becoming more and more angry with himself. He can't understand why he jeopardized the love of his life for JJ. Sure, he thought he loved her, and the two of them had spent extra time together after her confession, but after you left Spencer realized that he could never love JJ the way he loves you. And so he came to the painful conclusion that he could only ever love JJ as a close friend, but only after breaking your heart and shattering your relationship he cherished so dearly.

Spencer knows that he has forfeited every right to be with you by making those series of poor decisions but it doesn't make it any easier for him to accept.

As he packs away the rest of your things, he finally finds himself at his dresser, where some of your clothes remain. He remembers the day you brought some of your wardrobe over and he was happy to make room for you. You had told him that by keeping some of your things here that you two could spend more time together as you wouldn't have to go back and forth between homes when staying over or going out. But he never needed convincing, he would've let you do whatever you wanted as long as it kept that smile on your face.

And all too soon, you show up at his apartment with a box in your arms, filled to the brim with his belongings. As soon as he sees your face behind the door, he feels like he wants to collapse to his knees and beg for you to forgive him.

But instead, he gathers your things and returns them to you when you should be staying here. You should be wrapped up in his arms for the rest of the night. He watches as the photo on the wall catches your eye, and even he can't help but to look at it as well.

Seeing the two of you so happy together in a moment frozen in time makes his throat constrict with emotion, and he feels the tears well in his eyes. What he wouldn't give to be able to see you smile like that again, to hold and love and cherish you until the end of time.

Instead, he watches as you turn and leave his apartment. The realization hits him like a brick wall that this could very well be the last time he ever sees you, and he can't keep his composure. A tear escapes his eye and falls as you turn around and wish him farewell.

Once the door closes behind you, Spencer finally collapses to his knees, sobs wracking through his body while he mentally curses himself for not saying more, for not fighting harder for you.

His chest hurts from crying, but he can't find it within himself to care about anything other than you. He wishes he could forget, things would be easier that way. But instead he's sentenced to a life where he has no choice but to remember everything.

That night while he lays in bed, throat raw and eyes sore, all he can think about is you. The way you fit in his arms like you were made just for him, how you would rake your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and how sometimes, after particularly hard cases, you would hold him close.

As the hours pass and he gives into sleep, he can almost swear he feels your arms wrapping around him while you whisper for him to "come here", like you always did. Your voice was always soft and understanding as you took him into your warm embrace.

But now the room feels colder than it ever has before, and there's nobody to blame but himself.

- - - - -

A warm spring breeze blows your hair and with it comes the sweet smell of budding flowers. The sun is shining brightly through the puffy, white clouds and for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace.

Once the snow had melted and signs of life began springing back up, it seems your spirits rose as well. Sure, some days are harder than others and you still miss Spencer, but you're able to live without the constant ache in your chest.

You've taken the time to reflect on what happened, and you have come to accept that there was nothing more you could've done. You had given him your entire heart, but that just wasn't enough for him. He searched for something better, something greater, and it seems like he found it. You only hope she makes him happier than you could have, and that she loves him well.

But no matter how hard you work on healing yourself, you can't silence the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of just how badly you want to see him again. You yearn to even just see him from a distance, and you desperately crave to hear him tell you that he still loves you.

You wish that he could be here sharing this wonderful afternoon by your side, hand in hand and you wish that things had played out differently. Maybe you two would've been engaged, or even married, by now. After all, tomorrow would've been your five year anniversary.

No matter how much time passes you still don't think you're ready to try to get back out there, much to Sarah's disproval. It just wouldn't be fair to the other man, the way you would still see parts of Spencer in him.

With a sigh, you can't help but think of what could've been, how your future with Spencer could've been filled with happiness, laughter, love, and so much more. But no, instead you sit alone on a bench in the middle of a busy park.

After hours of soaking in the warm sun, you decide it's time to go back home. As you walk down the street you recount memories you've thought of a hundred times before and wonder if maybe your path will cross with Spencer's again someday.

Before you open your front door you stop and take a deep breath. The looming anniversary date has made you a touch more melancholy and sentimental than usual and after a long day of reflection, you're finally ready to admit something to yourself that you've been pushing away for far too long.

It's over now.

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