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#but it doesn't MEAN I *WANT* TO TALK TO YOU
holybibly · 3 days
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Today's unholy thoughts, bunnies 🐰
Let's talk about Seonghwa as a trophy househusband who is neglected both sexually and in terms of love and who is perhaps overly attracted to the best friend of his wife's daughter.
Seonghwa is gentle, sensual, and too needy for the constant praise and adulation he doesn't get. He has big, shining eyes, plump, soft lips, a velvety voice, and a completely unhealthy obsession with the pretty best friend of his 'daughter'. 
He knows it's wrong, or a small part of his knows it, but the way you look at him lovingly and the sweetness of your voice as you praise him, saying what a wonderful househusband he is and how well he keeps such a big house perfectly clean, makes his thoughts go in another direction. 
Seonghwa wants to hear you praise him while his beautiful, gentle face is buried in your little pink pussy and his tongue slides expertly between the soft, moist folds. And Seonghwa knows exactly how pink your cunt is because he has a couple of naughty photos of you that he took while you were sleeping. 
You had a habit of sleeping in nothing but a silk top and panties. The way the thin lace gathered between your labia, giving him a glimpse of your naked, sweet pussy, was too tempting for him to hold back his desires. 
He would never be able to say it openly, but he might have licked you between your legs while you were in Morpheus's sweet embrace, so ready and available for him. And now he can't help but think of how heavenly you taste on his tongue every time he looks at you. 
Seonghwa may only be thinking it, but he feels that you've been staring at him for too long, so he tries to dress as beautifully as possible and as suggestively as possible. 
On purpose, he wears transparent blouses so that you can see his hard, dark pink nipples and trousers that are too tight to show off his long legs and magnificent ass to perfection. He even paints his lips with your favourite gloss and deliberately licks them with his tongue, so you can't take your eyes off him for more than a second. 
He may look a little desperate when he invites you to sit on his lap during a family trip out on the town. Of course, it's all completely unintentional. There are just not enough seats in the car; he doesn't know how to drive; his "daughter" gets sick; and Seonghwa didn't intentionally pack things in the car in such a way that you have nowhere to sit except on his lap.
But most importantly, Seonghwa chooses the track perfectly—twisty, terribly long, with a broken road. And who else but him will hold you tight when the car jumps at the next pit. 
Seonghwa also knows that you hate trousers and shorts, so you always wear those unaffordable short skirts and slutty little thongs that don't stop him from discreetly touching you the way he wants. Maybe he accidentally forgot to button his jeans, or maybe he did it on purpose so that the wet, swollen head of his dick would rub against your tender ass throughout the trip.
Seonghwa is just too sensitive and needy to intentionally drool on your shoulder from this tiny stimulation and moan pitifully into your ear when his cock accidentally slips between your ass cheeks.
He apologises shyly, crumpling a long sweater in his hands, and says that he didn't mean to do it, that it happened by accident, and that he's incredibly ashamed of it. He receives a reply from you: "It's okay, Seonghwa, I understand. It can happen to anyone." 
And the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him come almost immediately without any touching.
It may get painfully icky to feel constantly aroused around you, but he can't help but imagine you riding his cock while his mouth sucks on your pretty tits when he happens to see you masturbating in the bath. 
Oh God, the way your cunt embraces the thick pink dildo, squeezing and stretching around the silicone toy, brings him to his knees. He would give absolutely everything just to fill your cunt with his cock, and he could swear that he would stretch you out much better than that stupid toy. 
Most likely, Seonghwa is going crazy waking up to the ghostly feeling of your lips wrapped around his leaking, throbbing cock because he is sure this will never happen in reality. 
Or maybe you just got tired of his ingratiating wet looks and decided to force him into action by waking him up with a blowjob while your girlfriend and her mother went shopping for breakfast, leaving you alone with the sweet and gentle Seonghwa. 
And the sight of his back arching and his soft, sensual mouth parting with a soft moan as his thick cum pours into your mouth is much sweeter for you than any pancakes for breakfast.
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» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!
⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶
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“Never?”
“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”
“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.
“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.
You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”
Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”
“Show me.”
“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”
Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”
Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.
The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...
Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.
If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.
And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.
“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.
You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..
The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.
His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants
“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”
The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.
“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”
You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.
Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.
You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.
“Like that. Good girl.”
This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.
Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.
You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”
Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.
“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”
You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.
And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.
“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”
You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.
“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”
You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.
“Patience, love.”
Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.
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The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”
“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.
After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”
He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”
With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.
“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”
You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.
"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.
"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.
Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"
You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."
"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."
If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.
“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”
The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”
You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.
The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.
The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.
A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”
The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.
But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.
“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”
The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.
After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.
“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.
A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”
You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.
Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.
It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.
A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”
“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”
You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.
This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.
“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.
You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –
“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.
When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.
As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”
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A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.
Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.
You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.
The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.
He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.
The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.
“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”
You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.
Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”
He asked and your body complied.
With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.
Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”
“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.
He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”
“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”
“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”
His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.
He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.
“Are you comfortable?”
You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.
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So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.
All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.
His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.
Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.
Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.
Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.
He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.
With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.
You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”
“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.
“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.
Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.
You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.
You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.
When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.
Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.
You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.
When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.
“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.
He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”
Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day
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★ NSFW HEADCANONS ─── CC²²
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❪ requested -> “Caitlin nsfw hcs I beg”❫
─ warnings | nsfw under the cut, read at your own discretion!!!!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
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cait is a top, i will not be taking any other suggestions sorry
jk but like... sometimes she'd be down if you took control but she def wants to hold the title of "top" LOL
strap game goes insane, it takes her a while but once she gets into it, she GETS INTO IT
yall have a collection atp, sometimes she'll just buy one cause the color is cute 😭😭😭
as soon as she gets used to the strap itself, whewwww ur gonna be gasping for air when she's done
also after she gets used to it, she def tries diff positions
but cait is a simple girly ─ missionary, cowgirl & backshots r where it's at
she's a backshot warrior, it gives her a power trip cause she lovesssss having her hand all up in your hair and like pulling you upward for a kiss for pushing you down in the pillow
it gets her goin for sure
she loves when you ride her strap, oh my godddddddddddddd it gets riles her up to no end
i feel like she only uses the strap if she wants to absolutely wreck you yk, she wants to see TEARS by the end of it
jk but yall know what i mean
if she wants to be more soft and personal, she'll use her fingers, mouth or she'll just straight up ride ur pussy
babes doesn't care like... she just wants to be close to you
she's definitely a yapper, she'll will either be really really soft or really really... degrading
it depends on what you like (cause her life mission is get you wet as fuck) and how she's feeling
sometimes she just wants to be quiet and really enjoy you, so again her being really vocal depends on how she's feeling
if she's on a game high, like she just won the game of her life, she's talking your ear off
however, if she just had a really tough game where she just feels crushed, she just wants to be as close to you as possible and she won't really be talking
if she just had a rough ass game, yea u won't be walking tmr morning just take the day off 💕🤗
either way ur getting the sex of your life sooooooo
oh and she's a fucking menace when it comes to oral, she DEVOURS YOUUUUUUU
like she'll eat u like it's her last meal ever and i truly mean it
oh she LOVESSSS edging to overstimulation, like she'll hold off your orgasm but then she'll overstim u til you're CRYING like...
then she's all like "thought u wanted to cum baby???"
she's just a menace
going back to the whole rough games, she also loves when you go down on her
except you're on ur knees and she has your hair in a nice ponytail (or just it holding your head) 😌😌
just the power she has over gets her wet as fuck and like...
after a rough ass game, she needs the ego boost trust me😭😭
i feel like she really likes receiving but she'll go down on you too of course, it doesn't matter
she's a receiver tho for sure, i feel like after she rearranges ur guts she just wants to get eaten out too 🤗
so she'll either sit on ur face or just have u in between ur legs and honestly U LOVE GIVING BACKKKKK LIKE 😫😫
her aftercare is top tier though, no matter what the circumstances are, ur getting water and cuddles after
cause at the end of the night she's just a baby who wants cuddles come on nowwwww
she's really serious in the moment but after she'll be giggling like "can't believe i called u a fucking slut, sorry bout that" 😭😭
she's so unserious
she won't fuck you anywhere unless its in private, the media already scrutinizes everything she does so her eating out her gf in a bathroom won't really help😭😭
also it just doesn't get her going, like she'll tease u and shit but she wants to take her time yk
she now has a chronic fear of getting caught cause kate walked in once
ya she still hears ab it to this day
"remember the time where y/n was-"
"shut UP"
yeah she locks the door now even when no one's home
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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buckyalpine · 8 hours
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I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.
-
Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.
"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.
"No"
Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.
Not today.
Not when he knew what he really was.
What he had been all along.
He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.
Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.
"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.
"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-
"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.
"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.
Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.
"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.
His arm was dangerous.
He was dangerous.
"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"
He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"
You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.
"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.
"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.
"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.
Why?
"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.
"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.
"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"
"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.
"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"
The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.
"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.
Regardless of what the world though, had you.
A pure sweet angel.
She trusted him.
That had to mean something.
It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.
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ginnsbaker · 20 hours
Text
fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (14/?)
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Part Summary: Leigh reconciles with Jules and then receives news from Danny that could potentially disrupt her new beginning with you.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.200+ | Warnings: Spicy phone call | Author's note: The date will happen in the next one, and then after that, 1-2 chapters to wrap up this series :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII
-
The date doesn't happen as quickly as Leigh expected. You don’t bring it up again for several days after your grand, against-all-odds declaration of love.
In the meantime, you text constantly. Sometimes you call, just to ask about her day. The first time, she’s so confused, waiting for the real reason behind your call. But there isn’t one—you simply wanted to talk, and texting wouldn’t do it.
She’s rarely on the phone with anyone these days. For her, phone calls are usually reserved for urgent requests from Drew or her mom, or from companies trying to sell her something. The last time she was on the phone just to talk was with Matt, during the stretches when work kept them apart for days. Before that, it was high school, chatting with friends and boyfriends about everything and nothing.
Talking to you on the phone feels like stepping back in time. There’s something intimate about it, something that modern-day texting can’t capture. She finds herself looking forward to your calls, the sound of your voice at the end of a long, tiring, or listless day.
Days stretch into a week before you finally ask her out, armed with the when and where. Leigh will never admit it to anyone, but the wait is excruciating.
The butterflies swarm in her stomach as she lies on her bed, fresh from a shower, in an oversized shirt and boy shorts, biting at her fingernails. She's already restless by the time her phone rings at the usual hour.
She picks up almost immediately, trying to keep her voice as blasé as she can manage. “Hey.”
“Hey, Leigh,” you reply breathily, not realizing how that tone makes Leigh press the phone harder against her ear, as if she wants to hear more of it. “How was your day?”
She rolls onto her back, stretching her hand out and drawing patterns in the air against the ceiling. 
“It was okay. Nothing too exciting. How about yours?” she says.
“Pretty good. Just busy with work stuff. I was thinking about you, though.”
The simple statement sends a new wave of warmth through her. “Is that so?”
“Very much so,” you whisper, and Leigh can almost see your smile, just like the one forming on her lips. “So, uh, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” Leigh prompts, her heart picking up speed. She hears some shuffling on your end and waits with bated breath.
“Maybe we should finally go on that date,” you suggest,  hopeful and a bit nervous. 
Leigh’s heart leaps, and she tears the phone away from her ear, burying her face into her pillow as a squeal escapes before she can contain it. Catching herself, she quickly schools her expression, tosses the pillow aside, and sits up ramrod straight.
“We should,” Leigh blurts out, still feeling her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. “When were you thinking?”
“How about this Saturday?”
Leigh pauses, mentally counting—one, two, three—before replying, “Great. I’m free then.” 
Wanting to lock in the details, she asks, “What time?”
“Could I, um, have you for the whole day?” you ask hesitantly, and then quickly realizing how it sounded, you clarify, “I mean, could we make it a day-long date? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
Leigh hums, pretending to mull it over, but inside, she's practically screaming yes.
“What do you have planned?”
“It's a surprise,” you reply, the playful secrecy in your tone drawing a grin from Leigh. 
Unable to contain her intrigue, Leigh tries to coax out some clues. “Anything you need from me? Dress code? Anything I can help you with?”
“No, just be yourself,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more intimate cadence. “Wear whatever makes you feel most like you. You're beautiful in anything.”
Leigh feels a warm blush spread across her cheeks. She's grateful you can't see her, can't see how your words reduce her to a pile of mush.
“In anything?” she asks coyly.
“Or nothing,” you whisper back, almost without thinking.
Leigh nearly chokes on her breath at that, biting her lip to stifle a moan that threatens to escape owing to the boldness of your flirtation. She doesn't immediately realize she's drifted into a stunned silence until you apologize, worrying that you might have crossed a line. 
“I'm sorry if that was too forward,” you say.
Leigh shakes herself, trying to clear the haze of memories—the soft moans, the way your body yielded to her touch that night. “No, it’s... I still think about that night,” she shares.
“O-Oh?” you stammer, your grip tightening around the phone. You're driving home with one hand, thinking it would be a short call. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, you quickly pull over to the side of an empty street, realizing you might not make it home safely if you don't.
“What do you... think about, specifically?” you venture, slowly unbuckling your seatbelt.
It’s as if a switch has been flipped in her. Her mind races back to that night—the way you touched yourself under her gaze, how she guided your movements, the feel of her finger inside you while she rode your thigh. 
“Leigh?”
Leigh's breath hitches, and she feels heat spreading through her body. She kicks off the covers, finding herself lying flat on the bed, her fingers inching teasingly at the hem of her shorts. She closes her eyes, letting the memory of that night trickle into the forefront of her mind.
“I think about the way you looked under me,” she says softly, “The flush of your skin, the sounds you made, how your lips felt against mine.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine. “Leigh,” you murmur, “I-I think about that night too. How you took control, how you made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.”
Leigh's fingers slip beneath the waistband of her shorts, teasing herself as she remembers the feel of your skin against hers. “I remember guiding your hands,” she continues, her voice growing huskier. “Watching you touch yourself, seeing the pleasure in your eyes. It was intoxicating.”
You can hear the desire in her voice, and it sends a surge of arousal through you. “I remember the way you moved against me,” you reply, your voice low. “Your skin was so hot against mine, it felt like I was on fire.”
As Leigh's fingers dip lower, brushing against the wetness between her legs, she gasps. She tries to contain it but fails, letting out a guttural moan—a sound of pure want—right into your ear. The rawness of that sound snaps you out of your lust-filled reverie.
“Fuck, are you... are you touching yourself? I-I'm so—” you start, your voice shaking.
“Don't apologize. Just keep talking. It's okay,” Leigh cuts you off sharply, switches the phone to speaker mode, and swiftly removes her panties. For a brief second, she thinks she probably shouldn't be doing this, not before the date they'd just planned. But the overwhelming urge washes over her, making rational thoughts blur into the background. She can't control herself; she needs to come, needs you to make her come.
“Tell me what you'd do,” she chunters, no longer concerned about sounding needy. “Please.” 
“Shit,” you hiss, quickly connecting your phone to your car’s speakers and then tossing it onto the passenger seat. You then adjust the driver's seat to give yourself more legroom and hurriedly begin to unbutton your jeans. Though you're embarrassed to admit that you've never had phone sex before, you're not about to let inexperience stop you. Not when Leigh was practically purring in your ear, begging for it.
“Y/N?” Leigh’s voice rumbles through the confined space of your car and you hurriedly close your eyes as you formulate a response, your head buzzing with several things you want to do to Leigh at once.
“I'd start by kissing you,” you begin, your voice low and deliberate, though you feel a bit foolish at the tentative start. “Soft, teasing kisses, tracing a path down your body. I'd take my time, Leigh, tasting every inch of your skin.”
“Where would you kiss me first?” Leigh breathes.
“Your neck,” you reply, your fingers brushing against your own skin as if you’re tracing the path your lips would take on hers. “I’d kiss right behind your ears…then down your throat, lingering at your collarbone.”
Leigh’s breathing becomes more ragged, and you can almost feel her anticipation. “And then?”
“Then I’d kiss my way down to your breasts,” you say, your own arousal building. “I’d take each nipple in my mouth, sucking gently, then harder, feeling them harden against my tongue. I’d circle my tongue around them, flicking the tip, just like so.”
Leigh listens, her breaths becoming shallow, her body trembling with need. She closes her eyes, lost in the sensation, in the vividness of your description. She traps a rosy bud between her two fingers, mimicking the rhythm you describe, the tension in her belly coiling more tightly.
Meanwhile, your own hands are busy on your body. Despite the cramped space even with the car seat reclined, you manage to slide two fingers inside your pants, rubbing your clit, while your other hand tweaks your nipple.
A soft moan escapes Leigh’s lips, and you know she’s imagining your mouth on her. “I’d keep moving lower, kissing down your stomach, tracing the lines of your body with my tongue. When I finally reach your thighs, I’d spread them open and kiss the inside, so close to where you want me but not quite there yet.”
“I’d breathe you in,” you murmur, “taking a moment to just enjoy the scent of you. Then I’d lick, just once, a slow, teasing lick from the bottom of your slit to the top, tasting how wet you are for me.”
“Fuck,” Leigh groans wantonly, her fingers undoubtedly mirroring your words on her own skin. You can almost see her hand moving against her clitoris, fingers collecting her own wetness and spreading it all over until her inner thighs are glistening with it.
“I’d part you with my fingers,” you continue, your own breath coming faster now, “and then I’d dive in. I’d lap at you, my tongue moving in slow circles around your clit, feeling it swell under my tongue. I’d drink you in, Leigh, tasting every drop, getting lost in how sweet you are.”
“Don’t stop,” Leigh pants, and you can hear her movements quickening, the unmistakable sound of wetness and skin in frantic motion, as if she's placed her phone near the epicenter of her impending climax.
“I wouldn’t,” you promise. “I’d suck on your clit, gently at first, then harder, using my tongue to drive you crazy. I’d slide a finger inside you, curling it to find that perfect spot, the one that makes you see stars. I’d keep licking and sucking, adding another finger, thrusting them in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue. I wouldn’t stop until I felt you trembling, until I heard you crying out my name as you came.”
Leigh’s moans grow louder, more desperate, and you can almost see her, writhing on her bed, lost in pleasure. “Y/N, I’m close,” she gasps.
“I’d be looking up at you, watching your face as you c-come for m-me,” you say, your voice faltering as you slide a finger inside yourself. “Fuck, Leigh, baby, come for me.”
It's the endearment and the mental image of your deep brown eyes, brimming with hunger and worship, that sends her spiraling into ecstasy.
“Oh god, Y/N!” Leigh moans, her back curving as an intense orgasm overtakes her.
You’re not there yet, but you close your eyes, letting the image of her climax burn into your mind.
Leigh lies there, basking in the afterglow, her body still trembling with the remnants of her orgasm. She’s about to check in on you, perhaps return the favor, when the front door opens and closes with a bang.
“Mom? Leigh?” Jules yells from the living room.
Panic surges through Leigh. She scrambles to her feet, hurriedly pulling on her underwear and shorts. The phone slips from her grasp, landing on the bed, the line still open.
Leigh reaches the top of the stairs, breathless and flushed, just as Jules appears at the bottom, looking up with a mix of worry and curiosity. 
“What's going on?” Leigh asks, wincing as she feels the stickiness between her thighs. She silently curses, wishing Jules could have shown up after she had a chance to shower.
“Where’s Mom?” Jules demands, her eyes scanning the hallway. “And Logan?”
“She took him with her for a grocery run,” Leigh replies, coming down the stairs. “Is something wrong?”
Jules sighs. “I was just worried. The door was unlocked, and I couldn’t find anyone. Thought something might’ve happened.”
Leigh relaxes a bit, though the adrenaline from moments before still courses through her veins. “It’s fine. I just didn’t realize you’d be coming home tonight,” she says.
“Yeah, about that…” Jules trails off, tilting her head toward the kitchen with a meaningful glance. 
Leigh follows, her bare feet whispering against the wooden floorboards. Striving for nonchalance, she asks, “You hungry?” Her hand hovers over the fridge handle, betraying none of her recent distractions.
Jules stops in her tracks and turns back to Leigh. “I’ve been thinking,” she starts, hesitating slightly. “I’d like to move back in.”
“That’s… great,” Leigh says flatly, unsuspecting of her sister’s announcement. She catches the sharp drop of Jules’ brows and hurries to cushion her words. “I mean, we never actually wanted you to go. You’re welcome back anytime, you know that.”
Jules' eyes sharpen, her lips pulling into a tight line. “But only if we talk first.”
Leigh nods, a hard lump forming in her throat. “Of course,” she says.
-
They end up ordering take-out when Leigh's nose wrinkles at the unmistakable stench wafting from the numerous boxes of leftovers crammed in the fridge. She can't recall how long they've been there, only that their rightful place is now the trash bin.
It's Jules who picks the restaurant, and Leigh bites her tongue over the choice of Vietnamese. The last time they'd ordered from there, Jules had barely picked at her food, pushing noodles around her plate more than eating them. Leigh tries not to think too much about it.
The dining table is overtaken by a clutter of takeout boxes, each one wafting a blend of lemongrass and ginger into the room—a scent so rich you could almost scoop it out of the air. Leigh watches her sister with that look—the one that's all walls and wariness, like she’s guarding the last piece of herself she can’t afford to lose.  Jules, on her part, looks a little restless, her fingers skirting the edges of a white takeout box like it might offer some kind of sanctuary.
“So, talk,” Leigh prompts,  twirling her chopsticks to pick up a fresh vegetable roll and dipping it into peanut sauce.
Jules takes a breath, a deep one. When she meets Leigh’s eyes, it’s with a resolve that seems to pull her upright. “Fine, since I’m the one who kicked this off, I’ll lead. I’m sorry. I know I tossed around some pretty nasty words last time I stormed out, and I meant them—then. But calling you a sociopath? That was me going off the deep end.”
Leigh’s face hardens, a quick, involuntary tightening of her features as she recalls the sting of that last confrontation. She pushes her noodles around her box, the chopsticks clattering softly. Jules waits, the steam from her own untouched meal rising and disappearing into the air.
“I appreciate your apology, Jules, really, I do. But you can't just throw words like that around, whether you mean them or not. Words stick. They fester,” Leigh says, meeting Jules’ gaze squarely. 
Jules looks down, tries to mask the hurt that flickers across her face, biting down on her lip. 
Leigh continues, “When I criticize you, it’s not meant as an attack. I’m not someone who likes to beat around the bush, especially not with family.”
The word ‘family’ hits differently this time—at least for Jules it does. Her heart aches at the mention, dragging up memories of a recent painful conversation where she had confessed to feeling like an outsider in her own family.
“Sometimes it's not about what you say but how you say it,” Jules mutters.
Leigh looks at her expectantly, clueless and curious at the same time.
“Not everyone can handle being talked to so bluntly. Not everyone’s as frank as you, okay? Sometimes it feels more like you're pushing me away instead of trying to help.”
Leigh goes quiet, letting the silence stretch just a bit before she nods. “You’re right,” she concedes, the words slipping out almost thoughtfully. It’s almost surprising, the lack of her usual quick-fire defense. “I think I got so wrapped up in the idea that being honest meant being harsh. I can work on that. I should work on that.”
Jules blinks, taken aback by the calm acceptance in Leigh’s tone, the ease with which she receives the criticism. It’s a side of Leigh she hasn’t seen much of—this reflective, almost gentle version. It's a welcome change, a sign of growth that feels both sudden and deeply necessary. 
“I didn’t expect... I mean, I’m glad you took that the way you did,” Jules says.
Leigh gives a small, almost sheepish smile, a rarity on her usually stoic face. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About how I say things, not just what I say. It’s been... a lot to unpack. But hearing this from you, it really helps. It does.”
She means it. Ever since you’ve stubbornly eased your way into her life, she’s done a lot of thinking. She’s done a lot of grieving too, realizing that if she had seen the changes that needed to be made earlier, things might have been different for her—for Matt. She’s learned to accept that life is always going to be filled with regrets, but she’s grateful now to recognize that she still has the chance to change, even if it came a little too late.
Better late than never, right?
She looks at Jules, her eyes earnest and a little bit haunted. “I’m sorry, Jules, for everything I said, everything I made you feel. I love you. You’re my sister, always. I know I can be too hard on the people who mean the most to me, but I’m going to try, really try, to balance that love, to understand how you need to be loved.”
Jules sits frozen, speechless for the first time. Their confrontations usually spiral into heated exchanges until one of them storms off. She hadn't expected this to be so... civil and mature. 
So unlike them. 
Finally, she manages a small, shaky smile. “Yeah, this... this went way better than I played it out in my head.”
Leigh’s laughter is a quick splash of reprieve, a burst of surprise at how well things have turned.  But it fades as quickly as it bloomed, her smile slipping into a frown as she catches the shadow creeping over Jules’s face. 
“What is it?”
Jules fidgets, nervously twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I... need to ask you something that’s been eating at me for months... well, almost a year now. And I need you to be brutally honest with me, Leigh. Can you promise that?”
Leigh feels a slight tremor of worry, but brushes it off and nods. “You’re scaring me, but sure. I promise.”
“Here we go,” Jules says, taking a deep, faltering breath. “Remember that night? When I was so drunk you had to come and get me? It was the last night Matt was... before he... you know. Do you ever resent me for it? I did such a horrible thing, robbing you of his last moments because I couldn't keep it together—”
“You know I’ve never blamed you for that. Not during our last fight, not when Matt died, just... never, basically,” Leigh says, leaning back on her chair.
“But some part of you must have hated me, because—”
“No—”
“—maybe he needed someone.”
Leigh just shrugs and denies it which only frustrates Jules even more. “No, Leigh,” she tries, “I need you to listen to me. I was very drunk that night—”
“You were really drunk a lot of nights and you’ve done a lot of crappy things,” Leigh states frankly. “But none of them had anything to do with Matt’s death.”
Jules swallows hard, her eyes stinging. “But what if it did, though?”
Leigh, clearly frustrated, responds, “You really think that?”
Jules looks down at the table and stays silent.
“Jules,” Leigh sighs, searching for the right words to reassure her sister. Eventually, she opts for honesty. “Look, I can’t tell you how to feel, but that’s not how I feel. Okay?”
It takes a second longer for Jules to say, “Okay.”
Leigh stares intently at her sister, noting the way Jules's eyes avoid contact. She knows the soft okay from Jules isn't a signal of acceptance or peace, but a white flag in a battle mostly with herself. Jules is grappling with her own guilt, a feeling that has little to do with Leigh but still consumes her. Leigh wishes, not for the first time, that her sister could see the truth as easily as she reads into misconceptions. It’s the same thing she wishes for herself.
Feeling slightly vindicated to have aired her feelings, Jules turns her attention back to the food spread between them. She reaches for her bánh mì, grips it firmly, and takes a hearty bite. As she chews thoughtfully, she manages a muffled, “Thanks, Leigh.”
Leigh just offers a small, understanding smile.
As they continue eating, Jules suddenly grins, crumbs dotting the corners of her mouth. “You're probably wondering why we're having Vietnamese tonight,” she says.
Leigh raises an eyebrow, curious despite herself. “I was wondering.”
Jules chews quickly, then, with her mouth still full, blurts out, “Well, I've got one more piece of news for you.”
-
It’s almost midnight when Leigh returns to her bedroom. 
As soon as her eyes land on her cellphone, carelessly tossed on the sheets, guilt floods her. She remembers she didn’t even say goodbye to you. Horrified, she realizes she left you hanging, high and dry.
She grabs her phone, her heart pounding in her chest, and checks for any messages from you. The screen lights up, but there are no new notifications, no missed calls.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” she mutters to herself, running a hand through her hair. She takes a deep breath and dials your number, her fingers trembling slightly as she presses the call button.
It rings once, twice, and then you answer. “Leigh?”
“Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?” Leigh asks, picking up on the sleepiness in your voice.
“No, not at all. What’s up?”
She lets out a relieved sigh before rushing into an apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. Jules came home and then I—”
“It’s okay, Leigh,” you whisper soothingly, grateful that she called you back at all.
That doesn’t alleviate Leigh's guilt, though. She racks her brain for a way to make amends. 
“Can we… Can we pick up where we left off?” she suggests hesitantly.
You let out a kind chuckle. “I’d like that. But maybe we should save it for… later. Honestly, that was a bit reckless, Leigh.”
Leigh's brow furrows, even though you can't see it. “What do you mean?” she asks.
“I want to do this right,” you explain earnestly. “If taking things slow helps us build something real, then I’m willing to wait.”
“Well, clearly patience hasn’t been my strong suit either,” Leigh admits, her lips curving into a grin at your attempt to be chivalrous.
“I know,” you whisper, traces of a smile audible in your voice. “But I didn’t want you to think that’s all I’m after. And believe me, I want you—it’s driving me crazy.” 
Leigh runs her tongue along her teeth, feeling the familiar tug of desire low in her belly.
“I just don't want us to get so caught up in the physical stuff that we miss out on really getting to know each other,” you say.
“Me neither,” Leigh agrees, tucking the blankets up under her chin, pretending it's you keeping her warm.
“While I obviously enjoyed our…conversation earlier,” you say, pausing to maintain your composure. You can still hear the echo of Leigh's moans in your car, the memory likely to revisit you on sleepless nights in the coming days. “I'm really looking forward to diving deeper into things, like your favorite book, on Saturday.”
“Maybe I'll bring you a whole list,” she teases.
“Guess I’ll have to find that library card I signed up for then,” you joke.
“A library card, huh? Dork,” she retorts affectionately.
You feign a wounded tone, “Ouch.”
The laughter that follows is light and easy. You sigh contentedly and say, “I should probably call it a day. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Leigh.” I love you. “See you on Saturday.”
The call ends with both of you reluctantly hanging up, smiles fixed on your faces as you lie back. Leigh is an addictive rush, coursing through your veins like adrenaline. You've excused yourself out of habit for sleeping early, but you doubt you’re going to get much sleep tonight.
-
Leigh nudges open the door to the crowded bistro tucked near the Basically News office. It’s the thick of lunch hour, and the place pulses with the chatter of midday patrons. It’s exactly the sort of public, non-intimate setting you'd want for meeting an ex. She weaves through the crowded room, spotting Danny at a corner table, his focus tethered to his phone as he absently taps on the screen.
“Hey,” she greets, sliding into the chair opposite him.
Danny looks up, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes. “You know, I could’ve just dropped by your house later.”
Leigh shakes her head. “It's better to meet somewhere public from now on.”
His expression darkens, and he scoffs. “Why? So Y/N doesn’t get jealous?”
Leigh leans back, crossing her arms. “Yes,” she says, deliberately blunt.
Danny's jaw sets, a muscle twitching slightly, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he reaches into his bag and retrieves a folder, sliding it across the table toward Leigh. “Matt’s publisher wants to release his comic posthumously,” he starts, “but there are strings attached.”
Interest sparks in Leigh's eyes as she opens the folder, her eyes quickly scanning the contract. 
“What kind of strings?” she asks.
“They want either you or me—or both of us—to join a group of artists to promote the comic—”
“That sounds fair and exciting,” Leigh interjects a bit too soon.
“—across the country,” Danny finishes, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance. “It’s a tour, Leigh.”
Leigh's fingers stall at the edge of the paper, the reality of the proposition sinking in. 
“A tour?” she echoes.
“Yeah,” Danny nods. He flags down a waiter and orders a beer. “Early next year. Matt’s comic is in the final stages of editing, and it should be finalized in about three weeks. They’re aiming for a release in February, and the tour will follow right after that.”
“That sounds soon,” Leigh remarks. “How long is the tour supposed to last?”
“About two months,” Danny replies. “We'll be traveling across different states, attending conventions, signing autographs, meeting fans. It’s a big commitment.”
“We?”
Danny shrugs, the hurt briefly flickering across his face before he can hide it. “Yeah, we. Though I'm not sure I can join because of the new job in Vegas. There's a good chance you might be doing this solo.” His attempt at nonchalance doesn't quite cover the sting of her reaction—how distant the concept of 'we' seems to her.
Leigh chews on her lip, her thoughts drifting to her own commitments—her column, her classes at the Beautiful Beast, and you. The idea of leaving all that behind, even for just a few months, feels like too great a sacrifice.
“It’s a lot to take in,” she says, pushing the folder back towards Danny. 
“He deserves this kind of recognition,” Danny implores, as if suggesting that Leigh thinks otherwise.
“I'm aware,” she snaps back, “I just need a bit of time to think it through, to sort out the schedules and everything.”
Danny raises his hands in mock surrender, indicating he doesn't want to escalate the argument. But Leigh knows him well enough to see through it—it’s a tactic. Danny has a way of guilting her into decisions without saying much, letting assumptions and insinuations simmer until Leigh finds herself making the choice he wants.
Leigh stands up, slipping the folder into her bag. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Fine,” Danny says with a tight nod. “Just don’t drag your feet. The publishers are waiting on an answer soon.”
-
Saturday comes soon, but not soon enough.
All week, relentless rain showers have scattered across the days, and though the forecast promises sunshine today, Leigh wakes up to the soft splattering of rain against her window. The gentle patter seeps into her consciousness, easing her from sleep. The room is filled with a cool, damp scent, and is bathed in a soft, diffused light as the morning sun is muted behind thick clouds. 
Leigh gropes blindly beneath the pillow to her left, retrieving her phone and squinting at the time. It’s 9:30 AM. She blinks, trying to shake the sleep from her mind, and her heart drops slightly as she notices five missed calls from you, each one timestamped progressively: 7:45, 7:55, 8:15, 8:30, and finally 8:45.
Guilt twists in her chest. She sits up, brushing sleep from her eyes, and dials your number back, hoping she hasn’t missed something important. 
You answer on the first ring. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Leigh sighs, running a hand through her tousled hair. “Yeah, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I just woke up. What's going on?”
“It’s Saturday,” you say rather awkwardly. “We had plans to meet this morning, remember?”
Leigh sits up, suddenly fully awake. She’s been looking forward to Saturday all week, eagerly anticipating this date. The realization that she slept through most of the morning fills her with shame. She’s been so restless the past few days, and it was only the gloomy, sleepy weather last night that finally allowed her to get some decent rest.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed your sleep, but since it’s an all-day affair, I thought we could start with breakfast,” you continue, breaking the silence that had been filled only with Leigh’s soft breathing.
“Where are you now?” she asks.
You hesitate for a moment before replying, “I’m actually parked outside your house.”
Fuck. Shit. Damn it.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, uhm, can you give me five minutes?”
“Take all the time you need.”
Leigh ends the call and throws off the covers, scrambling to get dressed. She rushes to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and running a brush through her hair, muttering curses under her breath. Her hands tremble slightly as she picks out an outfit, the anticipation of the day ahead propelling her forward.
As she heads for the door, a small smile forms on her lips. This might not have been the flawless beginning she imagined, but just knowing you’re on the other side makes it perfect already.
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dolimiu · 1 day
Text
ATTACHED AT THE HIP !
katsuki bakugo  ×  fmr   𝞋𝞎   synopsis ;   someone as rough around the edges as bakugo makes it hard to believe that there's more to him than just a loud and vulgar mouth. however, whenever you come into the picture, he tends to ease up a bit. ──  ❪   fluff  childhood bsfs pre war arc  0.7k  mutual pining,  cw  none   ❫
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soft is not a word anyone would use to describe katsuki bakugo. in fact, if someone tried to call him that, they'd be met with a vulgar insult — one that would likely make them gasp.
he hates nicknames (which is ironic, since he rarely calls anyone by their real name), despises people who get in his way or talk too much, and also those who talk too little. he loathes unwarranted smiles, excessive selflessness, and countless other things. bakugo hates a lot; that's no secret. in fact, he might hate people who pretend to be perfect the most. katsuki bakugo is rough in all aspects. he's extremely athletic and smart, with an abrasive and improvement-hungry personality that is loud and unyielding. he doesn't need anyone in his life to set him apart or help him on his journey to the top.
however, you're different. not in a way that he needs you, but you might be the only person he wants with him. people cock their heads in surprise when they see you two together, wondering how anyone could manage a conversation with bakugo without being screamed at. whispers circulate about the two of you. "they must be dating," denki whispers to mina, who nods quickly in agreement. the yellow-haired teen leans on mina's desk, side-glancing at the unlikely pair. "i mean," he continues, "he gets pissed if i so much as glance at him the wrong way. but look!" his finger points across the room to you, standing in front of bakugo's desk, smiling and chatting during the break. the craziest part might be that bakugo isn't even glaring at you; he's just listening with a straight face — something not even kirishima has experienced.
"i think they're talking about us again," you say, feeling slightly dejected about the not-so-subtle stares from mina and denki. they were wrong, though. you and bakugo aren't dating — just old childhood friends who have grown and gotten stronger together. you watched bakugo pull himself out of his ego and mature, while he watched you solidify your resolve and overcome obstacles.
"eh, let 'em… annoying ass extras," katsuki grumbles, his regular hardened glare returning as he glances at the gossipers. you chuckle at your best friend's response, watching as his eyes soften once they land back on you.
you smile at him. "wanna go grab lunch, katsu?"
katsuki groans quietly as he stands up. "yeah, sure." you follow him out of the classroom, walking down the hallway in silence. you let yourself mull over the whispers of "dating" and your names in the same sentence. on one hand, it was crazy. both of you have your own goals and ambitions, with no time to waste on love. you are strong, driven to grow even more powerful to save others. romance has no place in a hero's life.
and yet… a part of you aches. maybe it's the hopeless romantic in you or just wishful thinking, but being with katsuki makes your face feel hot. the thought of not being there for him as more than a friend stings, your stomach twisting in knots at the idea.
"hey, whatcha thinkin' about?" katsuki's raised eyebrow and intense crimson eyes bore into you. "better not be somethin' stupid again," he says as you line up for food.
you panic slightly; katsuki has a knack for picking your brain better than you'd like. "oh, it's nothing! just thinking about how a lot has happened lately." you gulp, glancing at the menu. "sounds delicious! i can't wait to eat!" you laugh, hoping he won't notice it's fake.
"but it's your least favorite food," katsuki's eyebrows furrow. "you spit it out once in fifth grade and complained the rest of the afternoon about how it 'ruined your day.'" your mouth goes dry, mind blank. "i don't know what you're thinkin', but," he pokes you between the eyebrows, "everything's gonna be fine, 'kay? so don't go thinkin' you're all alone and shit — 'cause i'm always right by ya, idiot." his eyes drift away. "now let's go grab somethin' else. don't wanna hear ya complain later."
butterflies rampage in your stomach. are childhood best friends supposed to make you feel this way? the way katsuki bakugo does as he grabs your wrist and leads you down the hallway? your other childhood friend izuku doesn't, so maybe this is different. maybe the way you feel is different. or maybe, you two were just born to be attached at the hip.
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© dolimiu kinda wrote this half awake so sorry if it is straight garbage !!!! but hope u enjoy anonnie, congrats on being my first request >< lots of love 2 u and all the other readers :3
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Note
Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)
i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.
“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.
your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.
“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.
“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”
at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.
“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.
“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”
with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.
you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.
“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.
she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.
“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”
spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.
“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.
you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”
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mins-fins · 2 days
Text
119
&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.
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pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader
genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff
warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚
word count: 1.2k
notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33
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you are going to murder na jaemin.
the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.
maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.
jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.
"are you alright?"
you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.
"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".
jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"
you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".
fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—
your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".
jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"
you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".
jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.
but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.
if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.
that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.
when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.
"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".
you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"
"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"
you choke on your spit.
"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"
soooo natural, y/n.
jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".
you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?
"is this your way of asking me out?"
you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.
jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"
you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.
"are you serious?"
jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.
you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"
"well to be fair—"
"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"
"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"
you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.
"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."
"can i kiss you?"
the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.
you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.
"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"
you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.
though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.
you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.
but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.
and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).
"was that romantic enough for you?"
even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.
he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.
and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.
jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.
"so what happened up there?"
"clearly they got it on".
upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.
jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.
for once, one of his ploys finally worked.
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honeipie · 2 days
Text
THE WIFE
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izuku midoryia x reader
synopsis: you’ve been asked to do an interview after your husbands cute little story blew up. now it’s your turn to express your love for him
authors note: to the anon who did the ask i am SO SORRY. i posted it by accident then fucking deleted it in a panic.. don’t worry though i got the gist of it! for the people who don't know it was getting the reader's POV of how they fell in love with izuku as well. also sorry if i went a little off track. i js wanted to give reader a lil opinion and personality ☺️
you can find part one here
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this was out of your comfort zone.
you sat in a plush chair across from a woman who was currently fiddling with the microphones. your husband izuku had done an interview with a popular podcast about a month ago. it wasn’t only popular because he was the number one hero. there was a charm to the episode that others couldn’t fake. the way he talked about you as if you showed him colors for the first time. everyone loved it.
now people really wanted to get into the lives of the midoryia’s, which included you. about a week ago you had gotten an offer to be on another podcast. you made sure to check out some of her work before you leaped into it.
the host's name was aiya, and she was absolutely amazing. not only were you laughing with the one episode you did listen to, but so did izuku since he was kind enough to watch with you.
"are you ready mrs. midoryia?" aiya asked going to put on the headphones. taking your own set of headphones, you placed them on as well.
"i am! plus you can just call me y/n. i really don't mind"
"thanks for letting me know," she clicked a button on her computer which started the camera up "hello everyone! it's aiya here! on this special episode we have the wonderful, and very lovely y/n midoryia in the building"
you gave a shy smile and waved to the camera "hello everyone!" you faced the aiya letting her smile ease your tensions "i just wanted to say thank you before we start. not only for inviting me on your podcast, but just being so respectful and kind as well"
aiya nodded placing both hands over her heart "you're just too kind! but girl you don't have to thank me for doing the bare minimum"
"no i really do have to. because there are a lot of other people out here that i've talked to and are not as professional and sweet like you. it's really crazy" you shook your head when you heard yourself start to get off topic "i'm sorry i don't want to control this whole interview. i think i got the rambling from my husband through the years"
both you and aiya laughed at your statement.
"don't worry about it! this is not a place where i will every cut you off from rambling, seriously. plus i want to get into some of that as well. what is your experience with the whole ‘being a wife of the number one hero’ thing? like you said before people can be unusually cruel to you for absolutely no reason"
you scoffed dramatically making aiya laugh.
"so when people ask me this in person, which has never happened ever" you made direct eye contact with the camera before turning back. this had aiya laughing more now than before "being married to izuku is great, but being married to deku can be.. iffy on my end. does that make sense?”
"yes and no"
"okay so what i mean is that being deku's wife is stressful. not only because of the major backlash that i get from the internet, tabloids, and gossip shows, but also because of my safety. the backlash is something that doesn't go away but gets easier as time goes on. for me it was easier to just laugh at how stupid they are. like one article called me fat, cool, but then another one from the same company called me pile of bones skinny" you tilted you head slapping one hand down on your thigh "now you just look fucking stupid because you can't pick one and clearly can't run a business. cause like how didn't you know that both of these articles were coming out?" you shook your head "they piss me off more than make me upset"
aiya listened carefully letting you go on with your rant.
"but when i say i love being izuku’s wife i really mean it. i love that man more than i love anyone else. i love the way he looks when he wakes up in the morning. i love the way he gets excited every time we see cows when we're driving. he is who i was meant to be with and i believe that with my whole heart. i see deku and izuku as two totally different people because i get to see it from both perspectives. i can understand how some people might not understand where i’m coming from with this and that’s okay. this is just how i’ve been able to express the way i feel about the whole situation”
“wow.. thank you so much for sharing your point of view on things. i hope this really opens the eyes to some of the haters out there”
“ugh me too” you played with the ring on your finger “i feel bad now. when this episode airs i can just imagine what he’s gonna say, ‘oh so my episode was me spewing my undying love for you and all i get is i hate my husband?’”
the two of you laughed thinking about it.
“no, but we’ve seriously talked about it before and he understands where i’m coming from. i love that he’s so understanding about everything”
“speaking of love,” aiya pulled out a piece of paper coming from her lap “we’ve got questions”
you clapped your hands together excitedly.
“oh! hit me”
“okay so of course deku did a podcast episode where he made all of us singles jealous by describing the moment he fell in love with you. so now people are wondering what was the moment you fell in love with him?”
you had been preparing for this question ever since you read the email.
“i actually fell in love with izuku pretty early in our relationship. maybe like a month in? i’ve honestly had a crush on him since year one, but we never got the chance to interact.”
it was early off in your third year when you had come down with a bad fever. the only reason you could assume the sickness took over you was because everyone had just moved back into the dorms. bringing whatever kind of diseases they wanted back.
“hi izuku”
the phone was placed on the pillow beside your head. you didn’t have enough energy to hold it up. hell, you’re surprised you even had enough energy to accept the call. everything on your body was just hot. they only thing you felt you needed was a cold compress on your forehead, but getting up just wasn’t an option at the moment.
“y/n you’re making me worried. are you sure you don’t need recovery girl?”
“i should be okay,” you stopped in the middle of your sentence to take in a long breath “plus i don’t think she could help with what i have anyway”
izuku was slipping on his training uniform as he was talking to you. he didn’t know if you could hear yourself, or if you even cared, but he could probably picture what you looked like. comforter thrown to the floor. medicine bottles scattered on your dresser and not knowing which one to choose.
“are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“i should be fine izu. just focus on- on training for the festival. bye now”
izuku had wanted to get a couple more sentences in to ease his anxiety, but you quickly hung up the phone without a second thought.
once you found yourself a semi-comfortable position you took the chance of drifting off to sleep.
the nap lasted about thirty minutes before you woke up to the feeling of a cold compress being laid onto your forehead. slowly, your eyes opened to reveal your boyfriend making sure it was in the right spot.
“izu” you mumbled going to sit up but he placed his hands on your shoulders laying you back down.
“nope, you’re resting”
he still had his training uniform on from the time you had called him.
“but you shouldn’t be here. you should be training”
the newfound coolness on your forehead felt amazing, and part of you wished he had came sooner.
“i can take a day or two off. it’s fine”
you shook your head gently.
“i don’t want you to miss it because of me”
“y/n are you me?”
“no”
“are you my teacher?”
“no, but-“
“then don’t worry about it. your health means more to me than training. i’ve been working hard for the past two years, so if i have to take a day or two off to take care of my girlfriend then i’m jumping at the opportunity”
it was right then and there you felt some of the weight lift of your shoulders. this felt like confirmation of what you had assumed you were feeling from the moment you first saw him.
you loved him.
you loved him so, so much.
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taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾
lmk if you’d like to be added
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sojumamii · 1 day
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˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧always a brat ˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧
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summary: no matter how hard he tries,megumi is always gonna be a spoiled brat that hates to share, especially when it's you he's sharing.
tags: megumi x fem/afab! reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight slight angst mostly cute fluff, flustered pining megumi, jealousy (cute), dad gojo, nanami is so cool (derogatory) this is me wanting cute megumi content bc i miss him too much. Honestly I gave a huge backstory about you and megumi's childhood LMAO enjoy
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It wasn't so long ago that a neurotic white haired lanky man showed up at your doorstep, alongside a bored, odd-haired child to explain curses, and the art of jujutsu sorcery.Yadayada some bad people were looking for you because you have a powerful gift yadayada Gojo can help nurture your talents and keep you from being caught by those bad people because he's a big strong guy who supposedly ruined the world (idk the freak kept yapping for so long) yadayada you may or may not die but you'll be helping people, and not have to be around mean family members who think you're weird for seeing scary monsters they don't believe are real. (showed them)
The whole time this child-highjacker was talking you couldn't help but stare at the young boy about your age hiding behind him, not really out of fear but of disinterest, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Gojo catching on concluded his speech and gestured towards Megumi,"Ah! This little handsome punk right here is Megumi Fushiguro another cute stray i've taken under my wing! You're probably about the same age, first grader? Sooo! I'm sure you're gonna be best friends in no time!" he yelled animatedly, smile wide and mischievous.
Megumi scoffed in response, turning and walking away to a nearby car. You gasped at how so blatantly rude he was to your face, your face painted with obvious irritation. At your reaction Gojo chuckled and reached down to ruffle your (h/c) hair presenting you with a thumbs up.
"Don't mind him, I've come learn he's naturally moody, like is that kid really six years old,..but i'm sure he'll come around...I mean he really has no choice as you two will be a team from now on. Anyways! Let's get you two something to eat..y'like kikufuku?!" Shiny blue eyes peaked from round black sunglasses, you simply shrugged and walked with him to the car with your silly little backpack and your new future.
Growing up with Megumi was a slightly mixed bag, but instead of growing irritated of him, he fascinated you. Despite his more shadowy personality, you were rather fond of him right away,finding his hot temperament and need to be serious rather endearing and cute much to his open and endless dismay.
You wondered how this could be someone your age, as Megumi was much more composed than the supposed adult now taking care of you. He was indifferent to both you and Gojo, only ever interacting with his elder step-sister Tsumiki, who urged him to be kinder and more approachable especially since you two were in the same predicament. Megumi would scoff and tell her to leave him alone and that he didn't wanna make friends just because they're stuck together. You never took offense but it would annoy you that you had the decency to be kind but he wasn't discreet with his attitude.
"Right..like I know i'm the adult but it's kind shooting down my pride that this kid doesn't like me yet, i'm not above bribes..." Gojo had whispered to you after you secretly inquired about the other child, having a difficult time adjusting to your new living situation, the young boy's attitude towards you was not welcoming and though you did your best to leave him alone, you would still extend an arm out as gently as possible. Although, you were also not above checking Megumi's attitude which would result in some major clashes that would make Gojo fret over household repairs.
After walking you guys home from school Gojo would figure out what to feed you before training and homework, allowing you to snack as he stressfully lamented over what to feed the three of you. You're all seated at the table with your homework laid out, peckish from a long day of being an elementary aged child. Tsumiki sat primly in her chair sipping on a pink carton of strawberry milk, a staple in the gojo-fushiguro-(l/n) household. Excitedly you ask her if there were anymore boxes of the heavily worshipped beverages left.
She nodded sweetly, soft brown locks swaying,"Yeah (y/n) there's one more left with your name on it!"
You beam happily out of your seat, ready to grab your treat and announce to your guardian that more strawberry milk was to be added to the grocery list. Until...
.
.
You fall face first onto the firmness of the tatami mat and hear the rapid stomping of feet fleeing to the cabinet where your sacred treasure lay. Furious you look up at Megumi who was now indifferently drinking the last carton, that you had so openly claimed, a claim that was co-signed and notarized by Tsumiki. The absolute audacity of this bratty spoiled motherfu-
"Meg-" Tsumiki began to scold right before you exploded.
"You bitch!" you shrieked, you hear Tsumiki gasp at your profanity, but your anger was at boiling point with this broom haired kid. Megumi retained his look of indifference which furthered enraged you. Megumi expected you to get mad and yell at him but what he didn't expect was-
"OOF!" Megumi fell backwards roughly on the floor, as you tackled him, strawberry milk carton flying out of his hand, destination unknown. You're on him pulling as harshly as your tiny fists allow on his hair, he yells pushing you back but you're relentless!
"Calm down what's your deal you freak it's just strawberry milk!"
"You tripped me to get it you selfish brat! Even though you knew i wanted it!"
"You obviously didn't want it that bad! Should've been more alert!" he successfully gets you off of him, shoving you to the living room.
"Guys please!" You both ignore Tsumiki
"Ugh! You're such a whiny little bitch!" You lunge at him again with your fist ready,unbeknownst to you there's glowing flames of energy coursing through it,he narrowly evades it by moving his head. Making impact with the sofa, it splits in half, wooden floor below absolutely destroyed.
Megumi grunts in anger, his fist glowing as well ready to make impact with you, quickly you push him off and he blows a hole through the television and the wall behind it. Stubbornly you both make way to each other with powered filled fist ready to collide.
"ENOUGH! What's the matter you two!" Gojo catches both of your fists,pulling you two off the floor, holding the both of you in each hand, he angrily looks back and forth between you and the destroyed living room. "How did this happen! Why are you two trying rip each others' heads off and why is the living room a-oh?"
A lightbulb flickers over him," Well I'll be damned! You two finally managed to produce cursed energy,how exciting!" The older man hugs you both tightly, crushing your lungs.
"Too bad it took you guys trying to kill each other...which reminds me we need to have a little lesson on teamwork, and household construction you absolute demon children!" He gives a preview of your 3 hour long lecture by throwing you two into the hole you just punched in the floor.
.
.
.
After that incident you understood how someone so deceptively calm like Megumi was to be a sorcerer, he was crazy, a an absolute psycho you'd say. Gojo's words from a previous time replay in your mind:
"You have to be a little crazy to handle being jujutsu sorcerer."
Through a lot of exposure therapy, Megumi eventually got used to your presence, and actually began to enjoy it, seeking it even. Once you were both a little older and still around each other, he figured he may as well get along with you. It's not that he didn't like you (anymore) or found you annoying (anymore) he realized he was just used to Tsumiki, and didn't care for any more than that and was surprising to himself very combative to any sort of change. But he was making the effort to fix that immature side of him and be more receptive and open to you and gojo.
Despite that, the more missions you two shadowed, the longer you lived together and went to school, the closer you became and the tighter your bond felt. You became an inseparable pair, hanging out outside of sorcery and schooling, in your rooms, sharing hobbies and tastes in music, constant laughter and smiles were consistently heard and shared between you two. Witnessed fondly by Tsumiki and Gojo who had their own little gossip circle over mochi and tea. Strawberry milk was no longer allowed in the household.
This unshakable bond was like concrete, no matter the circumstances, no matter how terrifying going out on missions became and the atrocities you experienced, you guys relied on each other, minds and hearts in perfect synergy the older you became. Getting to your first year of jujutsu tech was something you both couldn't believe finally came around, now almost 10 years later, and your relationship was still thriving! Yuji and Nobara blending in perfectly to your small shared circle!
But now one person has began to shake that bond and making Megumi's possessive bratty habits rear their ugly head.
It's making Megumi regret coming to this stupid sorcerer school with the stupid handsome suit wearing ex-salarymen sorcerers who have stupid sorcery knowledge and wisdom. Who are stupidly caring and kind with cute quirks like loving bread, fuckin loser (yet megumi hates red bell pepper)
This thought process was pissing him off, and so was the existence of a specific grade 1 sorcerer.
"Nanami is so strong! His ratio technique is so cool!"
"Nanami is helping me with my precision and aim! He's so kind!"
"Nanami is such a gentleman, he tucked me to sleep in the car on the way home from a mission! A sweet handsome guy like him must have no problem getting da-"
"Alright! I get it Nanami is so great and awesome! You know it's a little inappropriate to have a crush on your superiors!" Megumi grumbles as he slams his hand on the table,eyebrows raised at you. What's so great about a guy who wears a suit to exorcise curses? fuckin weirdo
Your eyes widen as a flush takes over your cheeks, "Gumi don't be mean! I don't have a crush on Nanami, I'm just saying how kind he is and how much i've learned from him!" your lips form a pout.
"Really? Then why is your face red? Why are your eyes sparkling when you talk about him?What's the point in calling him handsome if you're not crushing on him! You sound like a love sick school girl!" He bites back.
You raise your brows and cross your arms,"You know your bratty attitude wasn't cute when we were kids and it's definitely not cute now! So what if I admire my mentor or compliment his looks! Yuji's complimented my looks and I don't see you calling him a love sick school girl!"
Internally he's kicking himself, he doesn't understand why hearing about Nanami from you is making him react this way. It feels like someone else is piloting his brain right now (or maybe his six year old self) especially when he utters his next words,"Maybe you should start hanging out with Nanami since he's so cool and special!"
"'You like me or something huh? Can't stand me looking at someone else!"You stand up, fists on the table, you lean your body over to Megumi's side of the table, face to face your (e/c) eyes give him a heated glare.
Now it's Megumi's turn to flush red, breaking his neck to look away from your intimidatingly beautiful eyes, his heart snaps.
"Are you jealous Gumi? Is that it? You want me to look at you only?" You inch closer, calling him out on his bluff.
'WHAT! Oh god.. no no no, awe shit...god damn it what am I thinking, beautiful eyes? I mean she does have beautiful eyes, and she's beauti- oh my god? She asked if I like her? I think that's what this is...heart pumping? Am I jealous of Nanami? Idiot. Why did I have to run my mouth like that? Since when do I lose my cool this bad nowadays?!" Megumi's thoughts race 100 miles per hour, body running hot from the interrogation.
"J-Jel-Jealous? What the hell would I have to be jealous of Nanami for!" His delicately pretty face twisted in confusion and irritation.
"I don't know gumi, how about you enlighten me" You smirk, cornering him like he's a feral possum, he's not getting out of this one unscathed.
He never really got into the specifics of his feelings for you, of course he liked you, or else he wouldn't stick around. You guys were so close it was honestly concerning to others and himself, you were his most treasured person (sacred one would say) He has been through major life experiences, and struggles with you, you grew up together. You had a domestic routine, a result of living together for years, even in the same house you guys slept in each other's rooms (and still do even though the dorms prohibit it) watched tv together, read together, cooked for each other, studied...went on outings... had matching rings ... matching sweaters.. and oh god is he already dating you?
That's not all, his shikigami adored you, you were there when he summoned his first ones, the divine dogs that he appropriately named shiro and kuro, and boy you were so excited to see them, the dogs took an instant liking to your adoration, and eventually you bonded with them they look out for you on missions. As a child that cemented for Megumi that you were someone he held dear and was 100% certain you had truly kind and pure heart if his shikigami were so trusting of you.
Same thing happened with his other shikigami; Nue would nuzzle into you despite his ever growing body whether it was after a successful mission or as soon as it was summoned for training, excited rust colored wings and a happy screech flocked your way. Gama and rabbit escape jumping on your shoulders in greeting or to rest.
When he lost Shiro and Orochi, you made him a pretty silver charm necklace with a snake and pretty white wolf, letting him mourn his fallen companions in the comfort of his bed as he sobbed heart wrenchingly in your arms and expressed his deep appreciation that you allowed him have something of them to carry with him
That memory is specifically one he holds so dearly, he remembers how much you reassured him that it was okay to mourn his shikigami and Yuji and that it wasn't his fault they died, and that this situation shouldn't make him jaded in making bonds with others; reality was that you guys were all still so young so to see one of you die was heartbreaking no matter how normal it was in your world.
looking back he feels that's when he began realizing his feelings ran deeper than initially imagined. It was instinct for him to protect you, comfort you and even just care for you in any way possible. Always making sure you were fed and hydrated, well rested, not overstrained, comforting you when missions you went on without him went awry, carrying you to bed when you fell asleep in the common room at the dormitory, or in the car on the way home.
If it was cold he made sure you had a sweater on before just in case or disregard his coldness by taking off his sweater and tenderly putting it on you (whilst grumbling and nagging for you to bring one, though Megumi would never admit so brazenly he loved seeing you in his clothes, that's his secret to keep.)
From across the way, Yuji and Nobara watch the spectacle going on at your table, it was very rare for you and Megumi to fight, you guys bickered for sure, you all did, but Megumi never lost his cool with you in those instances like he did with them. Usually if you fought it was over very serious things, like injuries on missions, mahoraga... the drawbacks of your technique on your body.. but never a serious argument on something so...stupid? Plus it wasn't in either of your introverted natures to display such a spectacle.
"What are those two screaming at each other about? I could've sworn I heard Fushiguro saying Nanamin's name a few times?" Yuji glances back at Nobara, his brown eyes curious as to what his favorite mentor had to do with your squabble, he takes a handful of fries while Nobara looks directly at her phone to take a photo, oblivious to her lack of fries.
"I'm thinking Fushiguro is jealous that his sweet little (y/n) has her eyes on someone else for once, but for him to throw a tantrum over a harmless crush on a mentor is a level of pathetic I never expected him to be on." Kugisaki stifles her laughter, brushing her auburn hair back, not so subtly eavesdropping on the argument.(not like she could help it, she's nosy plus you guys are hard to ignore right now)
"I could see why someone would for fall for Nanamin! He's a really a gentleman! Strong too! I'd feel threatened too if I was him. But doesn't he know (y/n) really likes him? They're super close like that" The pink haired boy states like it's a simple answer as any. Nobara rolls her eyes, annoyed at the men in her class.
"Fushiguro is emotionally constipated, he may not really understand that he has feelings for her because they've always been close, but because (y/n) is girl she's smarter and knows better! She's trying to get it out of him, twenty bucks says she gets him to confess by the end of today?" Nobara sticks her hand out to Yuji, he smiles a look for determination on his face as he shakes her hand.
"You're on! Twenty bucks says she gets him to confess here and now!" They both nod to seal their deal.
"What are you guys betting on?" A voice in their booth asks. The students squeak as Gojo makes his presence known, his face inquisitive and sly.
"That (y/n) is gonna get Fushiguro to confess his feelings! It's bound to happen!" Itadori explains.
Gojo sniffles at the response, sighing dramatically while putting a hand over his heart,collapsing wordlessly into the booth end face planting on the table, Yuji softly pats his teachers back for comfort,while Kugisaki rolls her eyes at the ridiculous scenes in front of her, she turns back to your table and gasps, phone falling out of her grip.
Gojo and Yuji immediately look up, jaws dropping in shock at the scene in front of them.
Megumi and you were standing away from your table,his hand on your waist, the other holding the side of your face as both your lips were gently pressed together, you on your tippy toes and arms around his neck. They witness the gentleness of the moment, both your eyes full of fondness,and affection as your lips separate. A pretty blush overtakes the atmosphere.
"Oh my babies! They're growing up too fast! One day they're destroying the house and trying to kill each other over strawberry milk then before you know it they're getting married!" Gojo babbles through escalating sobs, accepting the tissues Yuji's offered him and cries into said student's shoulders.
Nobara and Yuji share a questioning look on the qualifications of gojo being a parent and the nature of your childhood, Yuji comforts his sensei again,"Fushiguro and (y/n) are always gonna be your babies gojo! Honestly I'm j-just s-so I'm so proud of Fushiguro being so honest about his feeheeeliiiings" the pinked haired boy chokes through tears, wiping his runny nose on his uniform
Kugisaki looks at the two emotional men in disgust, opting to watch the romantic soap opera in front of her as a live studio audience member, smiling softly to herself, as though she wouldn't be as foolish as her sensei and friend to openly admit it, she was full of pride for you too! You'd been pining over Megumi for forever even though you weren't aware of it and you always described how you used to feel lonely until you met him and no matter what you guys go through you're always there-
"Those two are finally together I can't believe it!! I'm so happy!" the hazel eyed girl joins the huddle of Yuji and Gojo, tears flowing out her eyes. All of this goes ignored and unbeknownst to you and Megumi.
You smile brightly at the black haired boy, playing with the hairs behind his neck,"See Gumi, was that so hard to admit?" You tease him, he grunts, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassed annoyance.
He softly flicks your forehead, an old habit from middle school," Shut up... I didn't really know that's what that was...but now that you're mine, that means no more Nanami talk right? Or anyone that's not me for that matter.." pretty red flush stains his fair skin.
You giggle and kiss his cheek,"Hmmm I don't know Okkutsu is a reaaaaal cutie.." you pretend to ponder tilting your head in thought.
Megumi groans and kisses you again, more confident and stern,"You're an absolute pain."
"Don't worry Gumi you're my only and favorite one. I've always been yours silly." You wink, a pink blush dusting the both of you again. Megumi presses a chaste kiss, holding your hand and grabbing both your bags to get ready to leave for training after your longer than intended lunch, you're interrupted by a deep,polite voice.
"(y/l/n),Fushiguro, my apologies for bothering you both, I just wanted to quickly speak to Miss (y/l/n), here this is research I found on techniques similar to your own and information about its users.. I hope the information is helpful to you in your journey as a sorcerer." Nanami hands you a few books with various note tabs sticking out of them. You stare at it wide eyed, stunned and excited to learn more about your technique... and how much time and effort it took a busy man like Nanami to do...Seriously, what a gentleman...
You bow in appreciation,blush reappearing, "Thank you Nanami, I'm sure this will be very insightful!" the man smiles back and nods,"Of course, be sure to let me know what else you may want to know.That being said I've taken enough of your guys' time, goodbye for now."
Megumi scoffs, irritation palpable at his senior,"Tch. Whatever womanizer."He tugs at your hand and drags you away quickly to the exit and as far away from the dashing gentleman of a sorcerer. Damn...he's good.
As you're walking you smack his shoulder in reprimand,"gumi that was rude! you're always gonna be brat who does whatever he wants!" you're scolding him but it's in between giggles and the most loving soft gaze he's used to seeing in your eyes, now that he knows what it is, it makes him shy. He kisses your face as a distraction to your lecture (fat chance.)
And what could Megumi say, you make him crazy, he's always gonna put his foot down for what's his. He silently kisses the back of your hand like a guilty puppy.
he'll apologize to nanami soon
.
.
.
Taken aback Nanami blinks in confusion,"Womanizer?" he repeats. Megumi's vengeful words replay in his mind, unable to figure out an explanation.
He looks back at Itadori's table when the sound of rambunctious laughter invades the dining hall, confused hazel eyes hidden behind his opaque lenses.
"Why are you laughing?"
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I hope you guys liked my first work on here!! This was written on a whim with no specific outline (explains the inconsequential lore dump as this is one shot or who knows!!) hope you guys love jealous and bratty Megumi. As calm and collected as he is I imagine when hes in love so many emotions come up he doesn't know how to define them or properly communicate them so he says the first thing his brain tells him even when he himself knows rationally its crazy to say or think.
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accidental confessions
how the bluelock men would confess to you
includes: sae, nagi, rin
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sae itoshi
sae didn't mean to confess, he really didn't. it was purely accidental. to him, in a world full of football and being the best there wasn't any time for love.
but you were his manager (sneek peak into an upcoming fic btw), you dealt with him so kindly, despite his temper tantrums and attitude worse than a teenager who had a bad day. so how was he supposed to not fall for you?
so when you were scolding him for not paying attention and being distracted be it listening to what you were saying or just being "out of it" in general, he snapped.
it was late evening after a particularly intense practice session with the team, but sae, of course stayed back, he was having a shitty week, both in and out of practice, he would himself distracted very often, but he didn't know others could notice it, not until you approach him. "sae? it's getting late you should probably head back" he stops dribbling the ball to stare at you with a deadpan expression as he curtly replies with a "no", now that was annoying, you couldn't exactly leave until he did, him being distracted all week was not only a hindrance for him, but for the entire time and you. "for god's sake stop acting like a child sae and just go home. you've been distracted all week and because of that not only you but the entire team and me had a shitty week, so please just go home and rest."
that caught his attention, as he suddenly halts. he didn't like any part of what you just said. was his performance so lackluster that everyone was hindered? well now he had to do something about this crush, didn't he?
"well, i'm sorry that i fell in love with you and now you won't fucking leave my damn mind and now i'm fucking distracted almost always because all i can think about is you. i didn't mean for this to happen either but i can't do shit about it."
now this was all confusing to you, because THE itoshi sae loves you? and you're on his mind 24/7? you're the reason he's distracted? there were so many questions running through your head. "you what...?"
"i said it once and i won't say it again. it doesn't matter anyway." he grabbed his duffel bag angrily slinging it over his shoulder heading out of the field without doing his usual routine.
doesn't matter anyway? how was he so wrong? was he that oblivious that he didn't notice your feelings for him?- were all the thoughts that ran through your head. before sae could go any further, you catch up to him "you're stupid. you're so so so fucking stupid, and very rude."
stupid? rude? what did you mean? what did he do? he knew you didn't feel the same but how was that rude? wasn't he understanding?
"i find it so incredibly rude that you think i'm not head over heels with your oblivious ass. are you a brick or something? because you're dense as fuck." you breathed out, looking straight at him, though his back was facing you.
he was overwhelmed, the itoshi sae was overwhelmed. the impossible thought of you liking him back was possible and very real? he slowly turned to face you, not realizing just how close you were standing. "tell me you aren't joking, because i swear if you are-"
he got cut off by a kiss. it took him a moment to realize what was going on but once he did he pulled you in closer. as you pull away from him and ask him "enough proof for you to know i'm not joking?"
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nagi seishiro
nagi believe everything was a pain, waking up in the morning, going to school, any and every "normal" task was a pain to him. but not you, talking to you wasn't a pain, going out to a cafe with you wasn't a pain; being with you wasn't a pain.
so of course, nagi fell for you, hard and fast, but how could you blame him? you were so understanding and kind to everyone that it was impossible not to love you and nagi being nagi wanted to ask you.
it was finally spring. warm weather was approaching, beautiful cherry blossoms were in bloom, and couples were everywhere. nagi thought it was the perfect time to confess to you.
so when he saw you during lunch break talking to some of your friends near a vending machine smiling so brightly, your sweet giggles ringing in his ears, he swears he fell in love again.
your friends being the oh-so-amazing wingmen they were, excused themselves the moment nagi approached. your heart beat loud and fast. it was scary, being alone with nagi, you didn't know why you felt this way but you did.
it was hard not to fall for nagi, he was just so adorable. it was no secret that nagi was a prodigy, his talents knew no limit, but that didn't make him a show off. no, he was still a genuine and overall an amazing person.
nagi unknowingly trapped you between him and the wall, his hand next to your head, he looked down at you with a small smile. "can you wait for me after school near the gate? i need to confess to you."
you were dumbfounded, he said that so confidently, you doubted if he knew what he just said. "nagi.. just repeat what you said"
he was confused, why did you ask him to repeat as he replays what he told you in his mind, he realized that he technically just confessed right now, a soft "oh" leaves him as he realizes.
"well you should still wait after near the gate, i'll take you on a date."
and without any further explanation he left the scene, console in his hand heading towards where ever reo was.
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rin itoshi
rin was a soft person, before spain, rin was the sweetest you, never once did he ever hurt you, physically or emotionally. why would he? you were his bestfriend, the one person he cherished along side his brother.
but that all changed after the incident with sae, it was like someone did a whole 360 on his personality, he was cold, aloof, egotistical and extremely competitive.
he didn't care about anyone or anything, all he wanted to do was beat sae and isagi. he didn't take care of himself and that was worrying. because all he did was practice.
you welcomed yourself into the itoshi household, you could say it was perks of being next door neighbors and family friends. you greet rin's mom and head over to his room like you usually did, sometimes he'd come from practice when you were there, sometimes he wouldn't. however today was different, because the moment you entered his room, you see rin focused on the screen infront of him observing a match.
it was concerning and it didn't help that you didn't know how long he had been sitting there, staring at screen.
"rin?" you call out his name, knowing he wouldn't really give a reply just a hum of acknowledgement that your in this room. usually you would have given up and just sat there doing your own things but today you were persistent.
"rin? can you atleast look at me?" he turns his head around annoyed that his concentration was broken "what?"
"for how long have you been sitting there?" you sit down on his bed facing him with a questioning look on your face.
"how does it matter? why are you even here?"
that pissed you off. the questions 'how does it matter' or 'why are you even here' pissed you off, but it didn't only anger you, it hurt you. you were his bestfriend. of course it mattered, and you were there because you cared and it hurt because now it felt like this "friendship" was one-sided
"i'm here because i care rin, why else would i be here?"
"since when did you fucking care?! even if you do, i didn't ask you to care for me, don't be surprised when you're getting ignored by me."
"since fucking forever you stupid dunce, maybe i fucking care about you because i'm in love with you, but the way you're behaving makes me feel like you don't give two shits about how i feel and maybe you don't, but i care about you, and maybe that's my biggest mistake."
was all he heard before the door slammed, he didn't know why but he chased after you. to him there was no time for romance or love if you want to become the best, but when he heard those words coming from you, that was a wake up call for him. he grabbed your hand right before you reached the porch of your house.
"i love you" he didn't know why he said it, he didn't know what else to say, he didn't know what else to do but just say those three words and hug you, and when he did, he knew he meant those three words more than anything else in his life.
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ALSO LMK IF I SHOULD MAKE A PT.2 OF THIS
sigh this took alot longer than it should have and this was pretty hard to write because of the dialogues and i find it to be awkward but hopefully it's still fine and you all like it. i know rin's part wasn't him confessing but instead the reader confessing but whatever.
also to the anon that had requested a certain fic, i'm working on it, it may take a little while longer, so i wrote this in the meantime so i had something to post.
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Text
game; part eight of sore loser ⋆ masterlist
summary: patrick doesn't understand the game you're playing | content/warning: explicit language, light angst, arguing, and everyone being shitty lmao | tags: @midwestprincesss
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"Do you ever think she's just using us?"
Art makes a questioning sound, muffled by the mouthful of donut he had all but shoved into his mouth. He chews and swallows it quickly before speaking up again. "What do you mean?" he asks.
Patrick sinks a little lower into the plastic chair, the sun catching his face before he sits upright again. "I dunno, like," he thinks a moment before continuing. "This thing we have, whatever it is," he says, gesturing between the two of them, "it just kinda revolves around tennis."
"It's like some kind of weird pavlovian response she has," he continued, eyes trained on the blue clay of the turf. "Like as soon as she starts talking about tennis, it gets her going."
"Kinky," Art joked with a playful scoff. Patrick shook his head, his body sinking back down into the chair. "It's kinda fucked up," he added softly. Art only hummed as he thought the situation through, his hand wiping across his mouth absent-mindedly. "Maybe it's better that way," he says, "I mean, she knows you're not serious—"
"Who says I'm not serious?" Patrick asked, looking at Art, who in return had a incredulous look on his face. "C'mon, Pat," he started, "you're in a new city every week, she's doing good for herself, moving up the ranks. I mean," he shrugged.
Patrick scoffed, sitting upright once again. "Why do you sound like you're trying to protect her from me or something?" he asked with a laugh lacking any humor. Art stayed quiet, his eyes now also trained on the blue turf, and just in time to see you emerge from the locker room, the giant bag hanging from your shoulder.
Patrick's eyes followed you for a moment, watching the way your tennis skirt swayed with each step before he suddenly stood up and moved through the grumbling people wordlessly.
When you scanned the crowd, you found Art sitting in the fourth row, a small smile on his face when your eyes finally met his. You returned the gesture with a wave before you noticed the seat next to him empty, no Patrick in sight. Your stomach churned with something uncertain as you started warming up.
✰ ⊹ ˚.
You lost, and horribly at that. Your opponent was still fairly new and the fact that she had managed to beat you inflated her ego by a hundred and made you want to throw the tennis racket at her head to wipe that smug look off her face. You should've been able to beat her, but you didn't, and now Sarah Joy Anderson had ended your winning streak.
You were in a foul mood after that, not even waiting around for Art and immediately making your way back to your dorm. A piping hot shower later, and you now sat quietly in bed, finally working on your assignments as the small radio on your dresser softly played.
A knock at your door startled you a bit and you had to gather all your strength to face anyone considering the mood you were in. You got up with a grunt, taking a moment to take a few calming breaths before opening the door.
It was almost funny how fast the initial calmness seeped right out of your body at the sight of Patrick standing in front of you, a matching scowl on his features.
"What kind of game are you playing here?" he asked, voice soft but still demanding of an answer. "I don't wanna do this right now," you said, ignoring his question as you moved to slam the door shut until he effectively stopped it with an outstretched arm. "I'm serious," he said, eyes staring you down and filled with so much unidentifiable emotion you almost folded. "What's your plan? Why are you doing this?" he tried again.
You were quiet for a few moments, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You were angry at him, angry at losing to fucking Sarah Joy. Angry that he thought he could come here and confront you like this. "Why weren't you there today?" you asked, a small smirk forming when you could physically see the frustration expression deepening, his hands moving to rub over his reddening face. "Because I don't want to play your fucking game anymore," he answered in a frustrated breath.
"Choose," he said suddenly, catching you off guard. "What?" you questioned, recoiling when he moved closer to you, almost in your face. "Choose," he repeated, "me or Art."
"No," you said, watching that sickening smirk stretch across his face. "C'mon, is it really that hard?" he laughed. Actually laughed. "Fuck you," you said with so much venomous anger you felt lightheaded once the words left your mouth. "Yeah, you've been trying to for months."
The sound of your open palm hitting his face was loud in the quiet hallway, echoing through the area and through your body. The bright red hand rapidly imprinting itself onto the side of his face almost made you smile if it weren't for the look on his face.
You both were quiet, the realization sinking in as you stared at each other. It was a blur after that, as cliché as it sounded. All you remember was him pulling you closer with a force that had you practically falling against his chest and his mouth on yours. And as messed up as it was, you could feel the anger pouring out of you with the way he was gripping at you and the way his mouth moved against yours almost angrily.
✰ ⊹ ˚. part nine
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aleskyyy · 3 days
Text
Punishment — Poly!TF141 x Fem!Reader
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You think just spanking your ass is enough for Simon, but he has other things on his mind.
Warnings — fem!reader, poly!tf141, spanking, dirty talk, 18+ MDNI, etc.
283 words. (Can be read as a stand alone or the second part of this)
Main Masterlist COD Masterlist
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You wince as you feel Simon's hand on your ass. Your mouth lets out a hoarse count of nineteen. You don't seem to feel your ass anymore, except when Simon spank your ass. Today is not your lucky day, you thought your trap would hit Kyle or Johnny, maybe even John. Not Simon.
And here you are, getting your punishment for spilling flour and egg on Simon's head. Ah, this boyfriend of yours just doesn't know the meaning of fun. Before you can think about it any further, a more firm smack hits your ass. You squeal weakly at that.
"Number?"
Shit! You forgot.
"I know you're thinking of something else, right?" Once again you feel the smack from Simon. Tears are already coming out of your eyes. You sob quietly from the pain and arousal. You looked up to see your other boyfriends.
John who is looking at you smoking a cigarette and Johnny who is rubbing his cock from under his pants. You feel a gentle caress on your head and find Kyle there. You pouted your lips at him. You want to ask for help but you know very well what's on his mind right now.
"I think we should fill her beautiful mouth and pussy with something so she can't think anymore," Kyle tells Simon who chuckles back.
"Right. And I don't think she should come before the rest of us. Right darling?" said Simon as he stroked your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye you can see John and Johnny getting up to approach you.
You're so fucked. You know they're taking forever to come. And you don't know whether you can bear it or not.
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dotthings · 3 days
Text
It's a mistake to jump to the conclusion that Jensen meant there would be no follow-up or response from Dean's side. He was speaking about Cas's confession and making it clear there's no confusion, awkwardness, or barriers between them, over that confession. Only love and acceptance, mutual understanding. They can move forward.
Cas, we know from the canon, in his speech, is fulfilled just in saying it. We, as fans, would love to see Cas getting verbal confirmation on how he's loved, but Cas already knows. It's a lack of understanding of Cas not to understand this, it's still okay to want and need to see it said to Cas, but Cas understands. Cas had his own freight train revelations hit him, maybe he knew since Purgatory II, "you don't have to say it, I heard your prayer." Remember angels can sense longing. The story might still require it, but the point is that Cas isn't eating himself up about it, he knows he is loved, he even saw it in Dean's eyes.
Dean, otoh, did not get to speak his loving truth to Cas. That is still hanging. Sometimes it's not in the having it's in just being. It's getting to say it. Dean hasn't gotten to say it. We saw Dean's self evident grief.
We've heard Jensen speak about Dean's regrets about Cas.
We've heard Jensen saying he hopes "we get to see that at some point" about a reciprocation, a response from Dean, and Jensen has said "it would probably be a big embrace and then Dean would say 'can we talk about that goodbye a little bit?'" (Jib 11) This doesn't contradict what Jensen said at Purcon 8. Jensen seems conscious of a missing piece in the story from Dean's pov, from Dean's end.
At Vancon 2022, Jensen said about Dean's regrets (and I love so much how he personalized it so deeply, that Jensen spoke using "I" when he was speaking for Dean): "I lost Cas but because I didn't say anything, I didn't give him anything. And what I had in my head was I should have said I love you too and hugged him." This was in Dean's head in the moment he saw Cas get taken. The sense of loss. The regrets. Jensen said "I have an answer for that, and I had an answer for that in the next camera setup." What he gave us at Vancon 2022 was part one of Dean's feelings. He hadn't given us part two yet.
Purcon 8 was about the realizations that hit Dean like a freight train while he's sobbing on the floor, and it's not complete, but it's still a big piece. We still don't have the full picture. But it's about Dean's realizations as it hits him fully how much Cas loved him and how Cas loved him and how Cas loved him so entirely. And the mutual understanding and acceptance.
I am dubious this means there won't be any follow-up or reciprocating moment from Dean, that Dean has nothing that he still needs to say, for his own peace, it seems clear from Jensen's statements that Jensen believes Dean wants to hug Cas and say I love you back.
And that, in my opinion, would be massive. No it doesn't have to be along drawn out speech or a complicated conversation. But I'm not going to go rushing to assume there will be no response from Dean either.
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AITA for calling my husband baby doll in public?
Nsfw tw
I (29M) am married to my husband (30M). He's a sweetheart, and I love him so so so much. He's absolutely perfect.
I'm the kind of guy who uses a ton of pet names, especially with him. I'll call him darling, sweetheart, babe, pretty boy, stuff like that. I'll also call him baby doll, but for different reasons.
Basically, I only call him that in bed, and I've noticed that whenever I say it outside of that context, it gets a reaction out of him. I've accidentally installed a sleeper agent activation phrase in my husband, and it is inherently funny. But recently I've started saying it when we're out in public, usually right before we go home. It's become a bit of a code word for "I want to have sex with you when we get back." Nobody knows this but us, and to someone that isn't married to him, the fact that it turns him on wouldn't be noticeable. He'll chew his lip a little and maybe blush, stiffen up, but that's about it.
Recently we were at a party with a mutual friend G (34M) and I was sitting on the couch talking to him when my husband came in the room with his coat, clearly ready to go and hide under a blanket back home the way his introvert ass loves. I looked him up and down and said "you ready to go, baby doll? Maybe give me a few more minutes, you can head on to the car if you want." And tossed him the keys. He thanked me and said goodbye to G and left.
G shook his head after my husband left and said "ew... you call him that in public?" And for a second I was terrified he noticed our mild kink play, but when I asked "what do you mean?" He said "it's so emasculating, can't you just call him babe or something?" I shrugged and said he likes it, to which G said, "yeah, I'm sure he ran out the door because he loved you calling him that so much," which is funny because he literally did, but it still upset me. I said my goodbyes and went to the car where my husband was. We went home and had a very nice night.
The more I think about it though, the grosser it is. I feel like I'm engaging strangers in our kink, which doesn't feel good. And maybe the pet name is emasculating.
And before you accuse G of being homophobic, he's also gay. Just... snapbacks and wifebeaters muscle gay. Nobody would be able to clock him in a million years. He shotguns beer at every party even when it is not the vibe.
AITA for calling him this in public when I know it turns him on? I figure if I accidentally pavlov'd him, I might as well use it.
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melanieph321 · 3 days
Note
I did write a similar piece after man city got knocked out of Champions league. (Link below)
Could do something different? How about you being a United fan. You lost last years fa cup and he made fun of you. Revenge type ting 😂
NOW THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!! 🙌🔥
Ruben Dias x Reader - Sweet Revenge
+18
* minors get tf out!
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Enjoy!
Who knew that Ruben was a sore loser? What a discovery, you thought. Despite Man City's triumph I the Prmeier League, he couldn't quite get over their lost to United in the FA Cup. You'd wake up at night hearing him mutter in his sleep. "At Wembley...Can't believe that they got us at Wembley..."
Eventually, Ruben would roll over and go back to bed, but as his girlfriend, his behavior was a tad concerning. However....as a United fan, what a glorious time to be alive.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
You joined Ruben in the living room. It's where he spent most of his current days post-season, in front of the TV, contemplating his life decisions.
"What?" He hissed, eyeing you like you had just insulted his entire family. Just your presence would spite him these days, knowing damn well that his girlfriend was a Man United fan. If he wasn't madly in love with you, he would have shown you the door right after the Cup final.
"I dunno?" You shrugged. "Losing for once? It hurts, doesn't it?"
"You're having a laugh about it, aren't you? You and your United friends."
"Hey, all I'm saying is that all is fair in love and football."
"All is fair, huh?"
"Yes." You grinned.
"Are you willing to put your words where your mouth is."
"Erm...pardon?" Your eyes widened as Ruben stood from the couch, draping his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
"Ruben, what are you...."
"City lost, Man United won." He stated. "We had a bet."
"So?"
"So? Wasn't the bet that the winner gets a wish?"
You smiled. "And you really believe that my wish would be for you to fuck me?"
"What was it then?"
Your smile widened, realizing your power. Ruben was really annoyed, wanting for the subject to be dropped as soon as possible so that he could move on with his life and the game. However, you had another plan in mind.
"You've got to be kidding me?" Ruben said after you left the living room only to return with your favorite Manchester United Jersey.
"Unfortunately, not baby, you made me do it last year, I'm making you do it now."
"But I can't wear that. It won't fit me."
You admit that the jersey would be a bit tight on him, considering that it was almost your size. However, it would add to the sweet revenge.
"It's not my fault your team lost. A bet is a bet baby, suit up."
You didn't know what was funnier. Walking hand in hand into your favorite sports bar with Ruben wearing your United jersey, or the fact that the number behind it was the number five, "Maguire." All you know is that it was a torture for Ruben being forced to celebrate with your friends who were all United fans. A torture for him and hilarious for you.
"What. A. Shit. Night." Ruben said, quick to tugg off your shirt once you returned to the apartment.
"Ah, ah, Ruby. Not so fast."
"What do you mean? I did the bet. Now the bet is over."
"You did half the bet. Remember last year?"
He frowned. "What happened last year?"
"Don't make me spell it out for you." You said, hands on your hips. Nevertheless, Ruben looked lost. You had to help him out.
"What did you make me do once we got back from the bar of your choice last year?"
The dent between his brow grew deeper.
"Sex Ruben, we had sex."
His expression mellowed. "Y/N, I never made you have sex with me."
"Not sex, no. I wanted that."
His sigh of relief made you smile.
"What then, what did I make you..." It all came to him in a flash. A terrible flash, once he realized what it meant for him. "No." He shook his head. "Y/N, please, no."
"Oh, yes." You approached him slowly.
Ruben backed away. "Not with the shirt on. Please don't make me wear the shirt during."
You grabbed its collar, pulling him down for a kiss. "I'm sorry, Ruben, a bet is a bet."
You back him up until he slumped down on the couch. You stepped out of your shorts and got on top of him, bending down to kiss him.
"Y/N, please..." He moaned, enjoying the sensation of your lips tracing down his neck. "I'm not gonna be able to...."
"What?" You moved on to kiss his lips, making it harder for him to speak as his hands were on your hips, slowing down your grinding against his cock.
"Y/N." Ruben put a hand to your chest, preventing any more kisses. He looked serious.
"What?" You giggled.
"I won't be able to get hard wearing this shirt. Not with another man's name on my back."
"Wanna bet?"
"I'm serious Y/N, nothing is gonna work unless I take it off."
"Right."
You slid down Ruben's body, centering yourself over his shorts. You draped them down along with his underwear, revealing his slack penis.
"See." Ruben said, popping himself up on his elbows, looking down at his unresponsive dick.
"He just needs a little love." You said, bending down to kiss the tip of it. There was some movement as you did, giving you hope for the future.
"He?" Ruben said.
You looked up to catch his smile.
"You called my penis a he?"
"Is he not?"
"It's not right to assume once gender you know."
You rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I guess my dick is a he."
You inspected it curiously. It was usually alive and well during other times you would meet. Seeing it so small, so sad, was upsetting yet fascinating at the same time.
"I think he needs a name."
"Yeah?"
You nodded. "Something suiting and aspiring."
"How about Roberto?"
"No, that an old man's name."
"Okay, what about..."
"Maguire!"
Ruben's eyes widened in terror.
"That's it, let's name him Maguire. It's very suitable."
"You're out of your mind. I'm not naming my dick after another player, especially not Harry Maguire."
You laughed, watching Ruben's face turn bright red.
"And another thing...."
You yelped as he pushed you off him only to roll over and lay on top of you. "I refuse to fuck my girlfriend wearing a United shirt." He pulled it off of him, tossing it over you heads.
"Well, I guess that means you're not fucking me at all."
"Not so fast."
You made the gesture to rise from the couch. However, Ruben's weight managed to pin you down, his voice deep in your ear. "Are you just gonna leave me like this, rock hard and lonely?"
You gasped, feeling how he suddenly came to life, his erection poking you in the stomach.
"Ruben, I'm not..."
"Yes or no, Y/N...." He whispered against your skin, pressing his soft lips against your naked collarbone bone. "Either you fuck me or you don't, the choice is yours."
"I hate you." You muttered.
He chuckled and resumed to undress you, draping your shirt over your head to reveal your swollen breasts. Ruben took one in his mouth like man deprived of food, sucking on them to a point when they became sore and sensitive to all touch.
It was a sweet revenge while it lasted. At least you had that. Perhaps the plan would have been more effective if you weren't so damn in love.
The End.
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