#adding to my wallet immediately

[suugarbabe]

don’t mind me just making sure you’ve got yours <3

*aggressive barking* I’m the biggest fucking simp there is for that man 🤤🤤

[caelivir]

shrimply in love | miya atsumu

synopsis. atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.

pairing. atsumu miya x gn!reader | wc. 2.1k | genres. timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, atsumu is soooo down bad | warnings. (minor?) manga spoilers

notes. outing myself as a hq fan and atsumu lover LOOK AWAY. this was inspired by a tiktok i saw LMFAO 😭. i was up until dawn, on my phone, in the drafts writing this that’s how bad it was. there's something additional to this so stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy.

“tsumu!” you call out from the couch while he’s in the bathroom connected to your shared room. “can you get my wallet? it’s on the bed.”

“sure thing, baby!” he answers back.

“thanks love!” you reply, the petname making him grin in the mirror. it gets him every single time.

after drying off his hands with a towel, atsumu doubles back to the bedroom, your wallet immediately catching his eye. he picks it up, and as he does, something slips out from the crevices.

atsumu picks it up and inspects it. it’s a folded slip of paper. curious, he unfolds it to examine its contents. reading it puts him in shock, and now he’s mildly annoyed with you.

he rushes out of the room, stomping over to you like a little kid. you raise an eyebrow in amusement when he stops in front of the couch.

“baby, what the hell?!” he whines, holding the paper out in front of you for you to read. confused, you lean closer, letting your eyes scan it before laughing out loud. it’s a guest check from the day you first met.

“what?! it’s cute!” you defend with a smile.

“it’s horrifying. do you even know how embarrassing this was for me?” atsumu pouts.

“oh believe me i know.” you giggle.

three years ago.

after a hard won victory, the msby jackals were craving a celebratory meal. meian had suggested a new italian restaurant that had opened by the arena. there was a unanimous agreement among the team, except for sakusa. however, bokuto had managed to convince him to come along with enough pestering.

so there they were, a group of guys well over six foot (with the exception of hinata and inunaki), sharing what’s probably the largest table at the restaurant. it drew tons of attention, and there were even some fans who came up to them for pictures and autographs.

then you came by, ready to take orders, and atsumu knew in that moment he was an absolute goner for you. your beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. you were prettier than those models on the ads he walked by, prettier than the flowers in his mother’s gardens, prettier than sunsets on a beach. and god, your smile. his head went all fuzzy at the sight of it. it melted his insides.

you chuckled at whatever bokuto animatedly said before moving onto atsumu. you looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with so much light that it jumbled the blonde’s brain. shit. what did he want to order?

atsumu’s eyes quickly racked through the menu, and his mouth fired off an order before his brain could process what he was reading. “uh, could i get the shrimps camping?”

a silence befell amongst the table before a collective cackle filled the restaurant. realizing what slipped out of his mouth, atsumu’s face turned red. his cheeks were embarrassingly hot.

mortified. he was absolutely fucking mortified. even that asshole omi-kun found it funny. it didn’t help that you were suppressing a smile at him too. he didn’t even bother with the damage control. there was no point. he’d only embarrass himself further.

with a giggle, you made a note of it on the guest check you were writing up because at least you knew what he was referring to. atsumu buried his face in his hands. see in his head, the setter had come up with a plan to ask for your number, but now he was never even going to walk down this street ever again. his chances? consider them blown.

“alright, alright,” you said after the laughter had died down. you fire off orders to confirm everything, and then you get to atsumu. “and… one shrimps camping.”

“you’re killing me.” atsumu groaned, feeling a new wave of embarrassment now that you were teasing him.

“it’s my job.” you shrugged before walking off with a wink. the blonde felt his heart skip a beat.

“don’t sweat it, atsumu-san!” shoyo clapped his back reassuringly. at least he could leave it to the ginger to always have his back.

it took a minute, but the team had finally moved on from atsumu’s slip up. unfortunately, it was all the setter could think about. god, what if you teased him once you came back with the plates?

luckily for him, it didn’t happen. you just tossed him a knowing grin when you presented him his food. he stared down at those shrimp dancing in the sauce, knowing he’s never ordering fuckass shrimp scampi ever again, and dug in. (it’s the most delicious thing to have graced his tastebuds.)

atsumu, contrary to previous thoughts, did end up coming back to the italian restaurant in the hopes that he could see you. he realized that he wasn’t going to allow one fuck up ruin the chances of having you. atsumu miya is many things. annoying, rude, loud, but a quitter? that’s not one of them.

it was a weekly occurrence, and atsumu would try something different from the menu each time.

“no shrimp scampi?” you would smirk.

“no…” atsumu would sigh, feeling the jab in his bones before handing you his menu. “no shrimp scampi.”

conversations became more casual. he learned more about you like how you were in your final year of university and that your favorite men’s volleyball team was ejp raijin. (he was definitely going to change that.) each week the blonde setter visited you during week made him fall for you even more. all of these little things accumulated until atsumu finally got the balls to ask you out.

“what would you like today, atsumu?” you greeted, that soft angelic grin on your face, and he just knew he had to do it. he couldn’t ever let you go.

“you. me. a date.” he said casually, his eyes dripping with confidence. (interally, he was freaking out).

you tried maintaining your composure but failed so miserably. you couldn’t stop the smile that reached your eyes as soon as you heard those eyes. “i thought you would never ask.” you beamed at him.

chewing on your lower lip, you motioned for him to give you hand, to which he most happily obliged. your touch was a new heaven. so warm and so soft. he wished to be wrapped in it forever.

you held his hand steady as the tip of your pen scribbled on his skin. when atsumu looked down, he realized it to be your number, and his eyes stared at it in awe.

“text me.” you told him before walking off. then you stopped in your tracks, turning yourself back around until you’re back at atsumu’s table. “wait, shit. what do you want to eat?”

oh. he had completely forgotten about that. atsumu picked up the menu and quickly scanned for a fun dish name. “um, just the pizza napoletana and garlic bread.”

“you got it.” you noted it down. followed by, “no shrimp scampi?”

“(y/n), please. i feel like i’m flying right now, and you’re killing my mood.” atsumu’s face fell, feigning fake irritation, but you knew better.

you laughed. “alright, alright. i’ll be back soon.”

“you better be.” the setter scoffed before his face betrayed his true feelings.

and before you knew it, one date became two, then three, then four, and the rest was history, shrimp scampi along with it.

at least, that’s what atsumu thought.

“i thought you completely forgot about it.” atsumu whines.

you laugh, standing up from your place on the couch. “how could i ever forget that? i stopped the jokes because you got all sulky. besides, that’s how my little infatuation with you began.”

once you’re directly in front of him, atsumu places his hands on your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. without even thinking, your hand finds its way to the back of his head, stroking it with affection. “of all things? not my good looks? or my nice arms? ” the blonde murmurs into your skin.

you hum in agreement. “well that came after.” your boyfriend groans, making you roll your eyes.

“i don’t think i ever told you this, but i was having a really rough shift the night the team came in. when you guys were put into my section, i nearly lost it.” you admit. “but then you asked for shrimps camping, and i lightened up, like all of my negative energy just drained out of my body. seeing you all flustered and blushing was so adorable in my eyes.”

your boyfriend pulls back, his face scrunched. “i didn’t realize you were in a foul mood that night.”

“had to fake it. you know how customer service is.” you shrug, a smirk taking over your face soon after. “but you were too busy admiring me to even notice it.”

atsumu grins smugly. he’s not even ashamed. “that i was.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re hopeless.”

the blonde setter hums, leaning in, and you meet him halfway, kissing him gently. atsumu’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against his body. you feel his lips twitch into a smile.

you’re the first to pull away, but your boyfriend is unsatisfied with that. he presses his lips to yours once again before you could even get another breath in. it’s a kiss full of affirmations that atsumu can’t voice. you feel it all through him. he’s so greedy when it comes to you, but he’d definitely agree with that statement without any complaint.

to atsumu, kissing you is a new kind of euphoria, one better than any service ace, better than any cool quick that he pulls off with his hitters. kissing you is like falling in love with you again, and it’s single-handedly the best feeling in the entire world.

he pulls away first with a proud smile. he steals a quick peck against your lips, then your nose, and then the rest of your face until you’re drowning in his affection.

you giggle, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “tsumu!”

atsumu sighs contentedly. his large hand cups your cheek. the rough skin of his thumb traces up and down your face. it’s so reassuring and so warm that you can’t help but lean into it.

“i love you, angel. y’know that right?” atsumu stares at you, adoration swimming in his eyes. everyday, he can’t believe that he gets to have you. he can’t believe he gets to come home and you’ll be there waiting for him, ready to hold him in your arms and kiss his knuckles when he tells you about his day.

you adjust your head ever so slightly to kiss his palm. “i know it. you never fail to make it known.”

you’ve come to realize that that’s who he is. your sweet boy, atsumu miya, is so full of love. behind the brashness and the insults, he has so much love in his heart that some days he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“i love you so much, atsumu miya. you are my life.” you whisper, bringing him in for another soul-igniting, cavity-inducing kiss. it’s intense, hotter, but that is just life with atsumu, a blaze of passion and fierceness.

you can feel him melt against you as if this is his first time doing this with you. you can feel him reciprocating your words. you know him so well that you can guess the words that follow. “all for me. my sweet angel. what did i do to deserve you?”

a memory springs to mind, causing you to cut the moment short as much as you’d like to continue. atsumu pouts at the loss of your lips against his. such a kid. still, he looks at you expectantly.

“i have to admit,” you’re kind of excited to see how he’ll react to it. “the entire restaurant knows you as the shrimps camping guy.”

atsumu stiffens against your body, and the horrified look on his face makes you burst out laughing. “you’re lying. (y/n), tell me you’re lying.”

“i’m sorry, my love. it’s true.” you reach out for his hand, but the blonde playfully shrugs it off.

“don’t touch me. how could you do this to me, huh? i thought we were for life!” atsumu turns away from you, shutting his eyes.

you roll your eyes. you should’ve expected this. in situations like these, there is one sentence that will make him forget everything immediately. “if i kiss you, will you forgive me?”

atsumu snaps his head back to you, and his eyes fly open, allowing you to catch the light that sparkles in them as he smiles widely. he’s so beautiful. “really?!” he exclaims but leaves no room for you to respond before he’s crashing your mouths together for the fourth time. you roll your eyes in disbelief but give into him immediately.

atsumu miya is so annoying, but he’s yours, and you wouldn’t give him up for anyone else in the world.

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: During your shift you overhear a conversation that kind of sends you spiraling.

Warnings: Language, angst, self-esteem issues, hurt with MAJOR comfort, and protective Steve.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,924

A/N: Just a little something, cause’ I’m on my period and feeling it…

You aren’t acting like your usual self - zero pep in your step, no smiles from anything or for anyone. Steve doesn’t expect that from you all of the time, but he can sense something is majorly wrong. You simply give him a whispered hey as you climb into the beemer’s passenger, buckling your seatbelt and lowering your gaze to the small wallet you’d brought with you today. It’s when he leans across the console, leather creaking under his movements, to kiss you - that he is for surely locked in on something being up with you. You’re pulling yourself away from his lips before they can even touch your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, Steve was always doing checklists, to see if you were unnerved about, even the smallest of things (which never had anything to do with him, half the time, as he found out). He tried to go over what he could’ve done wrong, how he needed to fix that. But as the trust with the new stage of your relationship grew, the romance had cemented itself - Steve felt like he had to do this less and less with you. You were a team - secure and honest.

You, however, are caught into the expanse of your head, strangled by those vines that are always undoing themselves from their silence to torment you. Copious, self-negative, berating thoughts that are meant to tear you apart. You manage to see Steve frown in your peripheral, which makes your lips part in an attempt to start your explanation. He’s more than ready to receive.

“Hey, Harrington. You have a few minutes?”

That same sugary, sickly sweet voice from minutes prior. You and your boyfriend both look in time to see her blond hair lean into the window, arms propped, pink lined lips speaking, bangles accentuated on her thin wrists, and the overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Your chest burns with the nerve of her, throat watering with unshed tears — your body feeling as if it’s slipped a flight of stairs for everyone to witness, see your smoldering humiliation as it crackles across your chest. Old Steve might be cocky, might even be rude. But your best-friend turned boyfriend - he is no longer that way.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He’s a little hesitant, his focus coming back onto you. His knee juts from his foot bouncing on the floor, eager to leave her over bearing interjection into your conversation. He’s pissed at her and her friend standing idly nearby, as you begin to shut down what you were about to open up to him about.

Her friend giggles from beside her and you audibly swallow, using your pinky to play with the newest charm Steve had added to your bracelet (a little baseball glove, because you’re always ‘catching his heart’). It’s your tell-tale nervous sign, he’s aware. The girl in the window starts talking again before he can say anything. She shows off neon pink talons for nails, pearly whites grinning at Steve. “I just got these done about a half an hour ago. And something is wrong with my car, so I obviously need to pop the hood, but I don’t want to ruin them. Like, you know what I mean?”

The eye roll that leaves you, all emotions aside, Steve is amused by. He reaches for your hand, and you let him squeeze. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll just pop the hood and they can call someone if it needs something else done.”

This makes you feel a little better, the girl having to hide her displeasure underneath her smile, which turns into a smirk as Steve exits the car and follows them to her convertible. She makes a show in her tight tube top and jean shorts, not getting to the hood immediately. You only imagine what they’re saying to Steve. But you do remember what they’ve just said about you.

“I mean, he picks her up daily and I don’t even think she offers him gas money.”

You’d stopped organizing the front candy counter to lean around and listen in. Steve picks you up everyday, never asking for anything return - even if you always offer. They have to mean you, right? Your breath had started quickening, focus wavering. The rush of burgundy is within your sights as he pulls up storefront, shades on, head tilted back, arm out the window with a cigarette in hand.

“He’s dating her though, so why would she?”

“Please. He needs to be asked if he is. I don’t buy it, at all. I mean, Nancy Wheeler was a goody two shoes, but at least she was pretty. Buckley is a fucking motor mouth, but she’s also okay.”

Former insecurities when you got together. Even as a friend as you crushed on him, these thoughts had plagued you. You were heated, body light.

“He never dated Buckley.”

A deep sigh. “Obviously, but he clung to her like a puppy. He’s downgraded with this one. She’s been hanging on him for years and I don’t know if he warrants it or just tolerates it.”

Don’t make any noise, don’t say a word. You should stop listening, say something. All things that you didn’t do, just kept listening to them dump on you.

“She’s the real reason Harrington struck out all the time. WHO the fuck wants to date someone that allows a loser like that to be attached to their hip non-stop? I mean, is it a kind, charitable thing to do? Sure. But he needs to draw a line between the good and the bad, babe.”

Your dress had felt to tight on your body - one you wore to surprise Steve today. Excited to be with him for the weekend, casting aside conflicting schedules. Your face became dull, heartbeat slowing, eyes glossing over. You swore you could taste the acidic bile of breakfast on your tongue.

“She’s been that ugly two for one special, kills all of his chances by hanging around him. The real reason he struck out so much.”

You turn your back to the conversation, despite still having been able to hear it. No use in trying to block it out, for it had found you in surround sound.

“Didn’t he ask you on a date, Chelsea? And you turned him down?”

She scoffed. “My point exactly. She makes him less appealing. He’s just with her because he thinks that he should be, and because she’s the one that’s around him too much. He peaked in high school, but she’s certainly holding that fine ass of his back. Can you imagine the sex he’s wasting on that?”

You’re so caught up in your momentary memories, that you don’t even see Steve as he piles back into the car, his entire body lax, but his shoulders tense. His face holds a reserved softness for you. His voice, though, that takes on an entirely different undertone of mixed meanings - somewhere between a raging anger and a featherlight craving to provide solace. He’s saying something that takes you a few seconds to catch up with, your blurred vision noticeable. It confirms his suspicions that he’d accumulated by being hit on at the girl’s car.

“They came from your store, didn’t they? What did they say to you?” He sighs, trying to let that show, so that you don’t mistake it for annoyance.

“It’s… nothing. I’m okay.“

“Baby…” The way it’s practically pled, it makes you look at him. You meet concerned, slightly widened, mossy eyes, sun reflected in the enriching pools. His grown out caramel hair is a mess, shades pushed back to sit atop, his sun kissed skin visible through his white Kenny G shirt, along with overgrown chest hair, his chain length bracelet and neck chain (a gift from you for his latest birthday), and his ripped jeans he’d cut to make capri shorts.

He definitely shouldn’t be yours.

You reach to fiddle with the chain, that nervous habit back again. And Steve settles into your touch as it drums across his jugular. He tilts his head to kiss to the side of your fingers when they brush by. You pause to retreat, but he’s swift to take your hand in his, playing with your bracelet this time. How massive he looks in comparison.

You feel a calloused finger brush beneath your chin, bringing it up. His eyes are darting back and forth across your face. “Tell me what they said to you. I know that’s why you’re upset.”

“Were they talking about me?” Immediate humiliation settles in.

He’s quick to correct. “No, no. I just mean that when they started in with the flirting after I opened the hood, I was uncomfortable and I know you were. And I also remember that they did come from the video store, too.”

Your voice breaks and he slides his spare hand to your neck’s nape, bringing your forehead to his as you begin to tell him everything that was said. Safe to say, he’s NOT happy by the time that you’re finished, and he does a double take to look for their car. It’s already gone and he curses. “Shit. That’s fucking bullshit!”

He can’t fathom the process that he went through as you told him each and every single word heard. His tongue is tied, he wants to plead with you to know that it’s not true, that all of those things have NEVER been like that. There’s only one truth. And so, he tries with all his heart to explain it to you.

“God, honey, you have to know that when I’m with you, I don’t see anything else, can’t see anyone else. For years, it’s always just been you. I don’t care about who I was before. The man I am now, he wants his life to be with yours. He’s pretty gone on you, like in a stupid, I’ll almost die for you again, even when you tell me not to - kind of way, and probably more.”

Your heart rate has started speeding up again, caught beneath your breastbone, trying to find your throat, but can’t get through its tightness. You’re openly crying now, to which Steve solves by thumbing away, the bridge of his nose nudging yours, mouth laying his next statement in to cross. “Words, they’re not my strong point, you know that. But I want you to know that I’d learn a fucking dictionary in every single language if it meant I could tell you in better terms, how much you mean to me, how perfect you are, how beautiful, funny, and smart, how sexy, how tough, how loyal, how honest, how creative, how strong, and so much fuckin’ more... How what they said was the farthest thing from the truth, that they’re just jealous, airheaded bimbos.”

You let your palms find his face, the ache in your body causing a prickling in your toes. You’re pliant against his chest as he unbuckles your belt and his, pinching your waist and using his forearm to halfway hoist you middle way over the console to meet his mouth, all the while he’s whispering between every kiss, “I love you. I love you. So fucking much. I love you, honey.”

You don’t have to stop kissing to tell him that you love him back. Steve can feel it in the way that you hold onto him, tears changing, rolling from your cheeks and dripping onto his lips. I love you.

[eoieopda]

whiskey neat | jwy

there’s no common ground between yours and wooyoung’s vastly different circles. that is, until tuesday nights at the black cat form the center of the venn diagram.

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader au: strangers to something type: one-shot | smut wc: 8.3k rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: inspired by hozier’s “too sweet”, primarily wooyoung’s pov with one switch at the end; bartender!wooyoung, musician!reader, alcohol use, setting is a bar, uhhh wooyoung is a (to the tune of that arctic monkeys song) cigarette smoker, oral sex (v), protected sex (p in v), corruption kink kind of?, use of “sweetheart” (fatal). reader notes: afab (gender identity not designated); kind of naive; into fitness/“wellness” (no body type/weight is described, except wooyoung thinking they’re “strong” + reader thinking that they are in the best shape of their life); wears a sundress at the beginning. the following terms are used in the scenes involving smut: pussy, cunt, clit, tits (no description given). a/n: i quite literally started this in march 2024 and then experienced the most severe hobby death of all time. this is coming after five (5) months of scooping it out of my brain with a melon-baller, so… not my best, but here she is! thanks @sailoryooons for beta-ing because i’m self-conscious lately 🍤

Tuesday nights at the Black Cat never used to be busy. 

For three years, Wooyoung spent the majority of his shifts behind the bar doing fuck all: Folding receipt paper into increasingly complicated and wasteful shapes; replacing citrus wedges that went unused and then brown; paying visits to the stray cat camping out in the alley near the dumpster. He’d go hours without talking to another human being, and he never took issue with it, even if his wallet did.

Two months ago, however, things changed. 

Two months ago, management started panicking about the lack of revenue. To keep the lights on and draw in a crowd of (hopefully) soon-to-be regulars, they implemented a schedule of recurring events — some monthly, others weekly, most stupid.

Wooyoung’s precious solitude disappeared, and in its place, he got trivia nights and turntable DJs, showing off their collections of vinyls. Games of bingo targeting hipsters, who show up en masse to fight it out for prizes — potted plants, of all things — they could easily buy on their own for far less than their tabs’ totals. Themed brunches. 

A million other events and just as many used glasses to wash.

Despite his ever-present scowl — his face just looks like that —  it hasn’t been all bad. Without the newly-added acoustic sessions, the bar wouldn’t need a local performer to both play and host on a biweekly basis. Management wouldn’t have reached out to you; and you’d have no fucking reason to come to a dive like this. Suffice it to say, your pilates-practicing, daylight-disciplined circle of doers would never otherwise overlap with Wooyoung’s, in all its nocturnal, nicotine-dependent grit.

Tuesday nights at the Black Cat now occupy the center of the Venn diagram.

As usual, you come traipsing in half an hour before your set starts with a gig bag slung over your shoulder and a megawatt smile on your face. This is your natural state, he’s come to learn. Solar-powered. It shouldn’t be possible, but you manage to brighten further when your searching eyes find him sitting on the counter behind the register.

Through no fault of his own, Wooyoung’s gaze trails down from your face to the little sundress you’re wearing. It’s new, he notes immediately. The skirt of it flutters with each step you take, showing off more and more of your thighs as you move.

You don’t react to the migrating fabric. Just the same, you don’t notice his appraisal or the way patrons’ heads turn as you cross the bar. 

No surprise there, he thinks. 

From the four (4) entire conversations the two of you have had so far, you’ve made one thing abundantly clear: You’re inclined to assume the best of people and their intentions. 

Nine times out of ten, Wooyoung dodges naivety like that the second it starts skipping his way, well-versed in the consequences of trusting so implicitly. You and your cotton-candy smile have proven to be the outlier, though. Working in tandem, you and that grin have him pinned where he sits with no urge to run.

You don’t notice that, either.

When you slide onto the stool across the bar from him, Wooyoung finally clocks what you’re holding. Your right hand grips some green concoction that he suspects was made with kale. Or moss? In your left hand, an iced Americano — beautifully black — weeps condensation onto manicured fingers, making hard-earned calluses glisten.

Wooyoung’s racing thoughts about those hands are still inflicting psychic damage when you lean further over the counter.

“Extra shot of espresso,” you hum as you hold the coffee out to him. You do your best to tease him, though you’re shy as hell about it, so the words still manage to come gently: “For those of us who were still awake when the sun came up.”

Wooyoung mentioned his coffee order several weeks ago in passing. It’s sweet in a way he’s not used to that you’ve not only remembered how he takes his coffee, but that you’ve brought it to him ever since, apropos of nothing, when all he’s ever done is his best to get a rise out of you. What he’s up to isn’t sweet — not by a long-shot — but it’s easily done and well worth the misplaced effort when he sees how flustered he can make you.

Wooyoung tilts his head, draws his lips in a straight line, and gestures to your cup with his. “Worry about those waking up shortly after sunrise, sweetheart. They’re drinking algae.”

As intended, you’re visibly affected by the pet name, so much so that you stumble over your defense. “It — it’s healthy!”

“It’s swampy.”

Your nose scrunches indignantly, prompting the edge of Wooyoung’s mouth to tick upwards. He doesn’t emote more than that. Five (5) conversations in now, and he’s already picked up on how much it gets to you when he only concedes a hint of a smirk.

As much as he’d relish the opportunity to sit here and keep toying with you, the crowd surrounding you has doubled in a matter of minutes. Just over your shoulder, Wooyoung sees a patron glance down at the screen of her phone to check the time; then, he hears the complaint she thinks is muttered quietly under her breath. It’s not. In fact, you hear it, too, and you divert your wide, heart-shaped eyes away from him. That smile of yours curves in the wrong direction once you do.

When you look back at him, you say, “I should go,” but he hears it for what it is: an apology. 

He’s never been good at ending conversations — especially in the rare case that he’d prefer to keep one going — so he nods, leaves it at that. You pause for a nanosecond, as if you’ve got something else to add, but you don’t. You smooth down the back of your dress once you’ve hopped from the stool to your feet. Then, you mimic his gesture. 

You make it two steps towards the stage before Wooyoung calls out to you, prompting you to spin back around and your dress to flutter:

“Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart.”

Your frown disappears instantly. The smile that replaces it is still there when you disappear into the crowd, only to resurface several seconds later on the tiny stage across the room.

Guitar now in hand, you duck your head through the woven strap, shuffling carefully closer to the microphone stand. You introduce yourself, strum a quiet, major chord, and chirp, “Welcome to both the Black Cat and my favorite day of the week.”

Normally, you leave shortly after your last set, as if you’ll turn into a pumpkin when the clock strikes ten. With the schedule you keep, it’s no wonder. From what Wooyoung has gathered so far, you wake up before dawn most days to get a workout in before heading to the office. The very idea makes him nauseous whenever he thinks too long about it, so he does his best not to. 

Mornings are for sleeping, he told you once.

Life is for living, you’d replied.

Apparently, the two of you have drastically different ideas about what living looks like.

For Wooyoung, life on Tuesday nights looks like catering to a steadily dwindling crowd once you finish up and disappear with a friendly wave goodbye. It’s cleaning up sticky spills, resetting migrated stools, and doing a half-ass restock that will make the opener — him — complain about the closer — again, him — when his next shift starts at 5:00 PM on Wednesday. 

In the gap between his shifts, life looks like meeting up with his similarly shadow-dwelling friends on someone’s balcony to chain-smoke, sip whiskey, and watch the sunrise until he gets bored. From there, it’s either walking back to his apartment or kicking said friends out of his, so he can rot in front of his PC. Eventually, life looks like blackout shades and crashing into bed while the world around him heads out for brunch.

Tonight, however, life is starting to look a little different.

When you wander over, it’s not to say goodnight or close out the tab you think you’ve accrued, which Wooyoung never opened in the first place.

Maybe, he thinks, you’ve finally caught on that all these “technical issues with the point-of-sale system” — occurring for the last four (4) shows in relation to one (1) patron in particular — can’t possibly be a coincidence. That a free drink given will always beget a free drink received. That Wooyoung doesn’t deal in unpaid debts, even if he hasn’t and won’t own up to his petty workplace theft.

You sidle up to his bar and slip back into the stool you’d previously occupied, no more aware of the way your sundress shifts now than you were earlier. Likewise, he’s no less blatant with the way he looks you up and down, eyes lingering unabashedly and hungrily. The pair of you float in each other’s orbit for a few moments just like this: waiting for the other to speak first.

“Don’t you go to yoga class at ass o’clock on Wednesdays?” He eventually inquires, leaning back against the counter behind him with his arms crossed and head tilted.

Your eyes flick down to the screen of your phone, which rests face-up on the bar between your elbows. You clock the time but not the way your current posture causes the neckline of your mostly modest dress to plunge. Conflict creases between your eyebrows, then you tilt your chin to look at him.

Wooyoung knows that look, although he’s never seen it on you before. That look begs to be talked into something, rather than out of it. It’s a look he gets often. For better or for worse, it’s one he never turns down.

“I do,” you admit through a sigh. 

Offering nothing more than a hum to indicate his intrigue, Wooyoung watches you and waits patiently for you to elaborate. Another few seconds slip by without a word. His attention makes you shy, he notes; he loves it. 

But he loves the idea of toying with you even more, so when you don’t say anything else, he takes that attention and diverts it to the few remaining patrons, all of whom have vested interest in closing out and getting out.

Good riddance, he thinks as the last of them stumbles out and away, leaving the two of you in charged silence. 

Even more seconds pass. 

Still nothing.

Wooyoung glances around and finds a bottle of Jameson on its very last leg. It’s the perfect amount for a litmus test — two shots left, nothing more to give and everything to prove. Snatching two overturned shot glasses from where they dry on a holed rubber mat, he empties the whiskey evenly and turns back to you with an eyebrow raised.

Your eyes widen slightly when he sets the spare on the bar in front of you, more so with interest than surprise. For a moment, you stare at it with the same ambivalent expression, nibbling thoughtfully on your lower lip. 

Finally, you all but whisper, “I should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

With his left palm flat against the bar, Wooyoung rests his weight and leans in, eyelids and voice dropping. “Why aren’t you?” He murmurs, gaze flicking down to your lips then back up again — just long enough for you to notice that he was, in fact, looking. “Hmm?”

Your breath hitches — just loudly enough for him to notice that you are, in fact, finding it hard to function this closely to him.

“On a school night, no less.” His eyes narrow teasingly.

“I’m asking myself the same question,” you confess, though you’re the picture of innocence. Your fingertip traces idly down the side of your shot glass, then back up again. 

He’s as distracted by the mindless movement as you are, albeit for different reasons. Before he lets himself get carried away in wondering whether or not your touch is always that delicate, Wooyoung lifts his glass and gestures for you to do the same. “Sounds like you could use a bad influence.”

A soft clink permeates when your glasses touch, followed by a muted thump when the bottom of each one is tapped against the bar. Your heads are thrown back in unison, just like your drinks, and when your faces finally level out towards one another’s, you counter him breezily, “Maybe you could use a good one.”

Wooyoung thinks he could use more than that.

Breaking eye contact, you glance down at your phone again. It’s obvious that you’re second-guessing your decision to linger. He wants to chuck that brick in the bin with the other useless shit, to get rid of any excuse you might give for having to leave, but he doesn’t. 

And you don’t give him an excuse.

Your hand wraps around that fucking phone, then you stand up slowly. 

“Try not to stay up too late,” you advise with a smile that still manages to read like disappointment.

Don’t.

Reaching into the pocket of your jacket, you pull out the tips you made tonight and collect a few bills before dropping them on the counter to cover the shot you didn’t even order. Wooyoung wants to tell you not to — that your money isn’t good here, even if you are — but he knows it won’t make a difference. 

You sling your gig bag over your shoulder, thank him, and tell him that you’ll see him in two weeks.

He scrubs his hands over his face the second you walk out the door and mutters through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

You don’t see Wooyoung in two weeks. 

As a matter of fact, you cancel your acoustic session for the first time ever. Management either doesn’t know why you bailed or doesn’t think it’s any of Wooyoung’s business, so no one bothers to tell him. If he’d ever thought to ask for your number, he could check in on you himself, but he didn’t and therefore can’t.

Ignorant and annoyed, he resigns himself to occupying an empty tavern on a goddamn Tuesday night, yet again. 

Nobody brings him coffee. 

Nobody worth talking to crosses the threshold. 

No one makes little comments — genuine concerns poorly disguised as digs — when he uses the paring knife to carve little stars into the lip of the bar top, instead of slicing limes. 

And when he gives up and closes down early, he’s so tired of his own shit that he simply goes home and goes to bed.

Bed being the operative word. 

He doesn’t go to sleep, even though he has nothing better to do. Alternatively, Wooyoung replays your last interaction on a loop in his head, daydreaming about what could’ve happened if you’d stayed. While his thoughts spiral, his hand drifts, finds the pulse beneath the zipper of his jeans, and feels the throbbing ache building through the denim.

It’s pathetic. 

He knows it. 

Too bad that doesn’t stop him from fucking his fist every night for the next several, imagining how much softer yours must feel.

The patron pulls a face the absolute second Wooyoung slides her glass across the bar. 

Wholly uninterested in the response one way or another, he slathers on his customer-service smile and asks her, “Alright?”, in a tone that doesn’t match his expression in the slightest.

“There’s no ice in it,” she mumbles, cringing in mild horror as she does. As if the liquor features his spit instead. “I wanted ice.”

There’s a split second where he almost lets his mask crack, says something shitty just because his mood was already sour before she walked over. Wooyoung doesn’t get the opportunity, however. Over the girl’s shoulder, someone gently intervenes: “Neat means no ice. You’d have needed to order it on the rocks.” 

A beat passes, then comes, “Or — you know, with ice, please.”

Wooyoung neither hears nor cares what the girl says in response. She shuffles off, and that’s all that matters. Without her body blocking the way, he sees you clearly. You’re more done-up than usual, like you’ve just come from somewhere far nicer than here.

“It’s Saturday.”

Probably should’ve started with hello.

After eyeing the glowing, neon clock on the wall, Wooyoung notices that both hands are pointed skyward. He corrects himself, “Nah, it’s Sunday.”

You slip into the now-unoccupied stool ahead of him and nod, chuckling like you can’t believe it, either. When you settle in, you prop your elbow on the bar top, then your chin upon the heel of your hand. Just above, your eyes twinkle with a kind of mischief he’s never seen you wear before.

That might be the thin veil of tipsiness, actually. 

Not that he’s complaining.

Wooyoung hides his amusement by bending over and rummaging through the under-counter refrigerator that hums beneath the register. The rush of cool air has nothing to do with how awake he suddenly feels. He wonders if you feel the same but can’t ask outright; eagerness isn’t his style.

“You’re here on purpose?” He asks instead, resurfacing with a bottle of soju — some new, fruity flavor he assumes you’ll like — and a raised eyebrow.

You hum appreciatively when you see what he’s holding. That soft sound that punches him right in the center of his chest with force. “I was out with friends, but…”

Your voice trails off, too distracted by his hand enveloping the seal-covered bottle cap. With a firm grip and quick twist, it’s gone. You’re still eyeing his hands, he notes, even though all they’re doing is holding the bottle. 

Normally, he’d love to give you the benefit of the doubt and attribute your sudden fixation on the rings he wears. It wouldn’t be the first time a man in jewelry snags attention, complimentary or otherwise. Unfortunately — or maybe fortunately? — for you, Wooyoung forgot to put his usual accessories back on after this afternoon’s shower.

Nope, he thinks, biting back a wolfish grin. He’s not alone. You daydream about his touch, too.

Catching yourself staring, you shift atop your stool with a quiet, self-conscious laugh that sounds more like a sigh. He opts to let it go without further teasing, but he doesn’t let it go entirely. That breathy little noise echoes in his ears, drowning out the faint slosh of liquor as he fills your glass. 

In a weak attempt to distract himself, he remembers your half-finished sentence and prompts with a low voice, “But?”

“They wanted to end the night.” You accept the glass into your hand from his and raise it slightly in thanks. “I didn’t,” you whisper, then bring the rim to your lips to cloak their upward curve.

Wooyoung would be lying if he said your tiny act of defiance didn’t send all the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. Maybe it’s arrogant of him to assume that he’s the source of this newfound rebelliousness. The spark that lit the fuse, or whatever. Maybe that should bother him. Of course, it doesn’t.

In an effort to hide how strong of a chord your confession has struck, he gestures with one extended finger to the clock. Your eyes follow, and he leans in closer; the smirk you can’t see is still evident in his voice, he’s sure.  “How much of a coincidence is it that you showed up right before the trains stop running?”

When your gaze flicks momentarily back to him, he spots a hint of surprise. This impeccable timing wasn’t a scheme at all, he realizes. Not a plot. If he had to bet, Wooyoung would guess that you’re never out late enough to know that the train schedule ends at all.

God, you’re going to give him a cavity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Coincidentally, I know someone who gets off just in time to walk you home.”

“This gonna bother you?”

Having stepped out of the bar before Wooyoung, his question prompts you to look back over your shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised slightly out of curiosity. He lifts his right hand from his jacket pocket to reveal the half-spent pack of cigarettes he��d been storing there.

He expects it to, and to his surprise, he cares enough about that possibility that he doesn’t light up without asking in the way he normally would.

“In theory, yes,” you laugh, “because I’d prefer your lungs to be tar-free.”

“And in practice?”

You must not have expected him to note the distinction; you fluster. Grinning slightly, Wooyoung answers his own question on your behalf, “In practice, you find it kind of hot.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he pulls a cigarette from the pack — slowly, to test his hypothesis that you’ve got a thing for his hands — and then, Wooyoung slides the cardboard back into his pocket. 

Your gaze follows while he gently places the filtered end between his lips. It stays put when he furnishes a lighter, holds the flame to the opposite side, and inhales. Turning his head to the side, Wooyoung exhales the smoke where it won’t reach you. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he assures you, eyes devilish. Deer in headlights that you are, you freeze but for the bob of your throat as you swallow. “I won’t make you admit it out loud.”

Yet.

Once he’s decided that he’s played with you enough for the time being, two of you head south, ambling under streetlights without any sense of urgency. Making up for lost time, maybe; picking up where the last Tuesday left off. 

He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol making you more talkative than usual, or if you’re feeling the rush of your off-brand decisions, but Wooyoung’s fine with it, either way. You tell him about your week — in full and without hesitation — like you’re chatting to a friend and not someone you’ve only just started to encounter on a brief, twice-monthly basis.

You had a date this Tuesday night, he learns. It didn’t go well. Too similar, you explain with a wave of your hand. According to you, it’s boring to sit with you at a dinner table. Wooyoung looks pointedly at you as soon as he hears it, noting his disagreement. For a second, you assume something he doesn’t mean: that he enjoys his own company more than you enjoy yours.

“No,” he corrects you. “I just can’t picture dinner with you as something boring.”

You duck your head, embarrassed. “Oh,” is all you manage in reply.

Wooyoung follows your lead across several more city blocks, hanging on every word you say in the meantime. When the pair of you reach the front of your apartment building, his cigarette is spent, but neither one of you is. He takes an extra step towards the garbage can near the door and drops the butt amidst the others in the lid, which doubles as an ashtray. A faint vein of smoke bleeds out until the dark sky laps it up entirely.

You look conflicted when he turns back in your direction. Clearly, you don’t want him to leave just yet, but asking him upstairs is likely way out of your pattern of behavior. Wooyoung sees two options: He could say goodnight and go; take a few steps towards his side of the city, and hope you to act even further out of character, or — 

“If you’re asking, I’m saying yes.”

— he could go off-script entirely.

Your apartment looks exactly the way Wooyoung expected it to. Everything is cozy; a far cry from the modern and monochrome edge of his place. It all makes sense, based on what he’s learned about you so far. Feels like you, although he’ll concede that you haven’t been felt by him just yet.

Each shelf features a tchotchke or framed photograph — or several — but not a single speck of dust. Likewise, the various potted plants you’ve displayed artfully around the space are well-kept. Flourishing, he assumes, despite the fact that he doesn’t know shit about fuck when it comes to plants.

His shoes, ratty in comparison to yours, are toed off at the door before he follows you further into the kitchen. You stop at the island, bottom lip between your teeth once again. Unsure, you nibble on it, like it’ll help you set your dizzy mind straight.

When Wooyoung inches closer to you, he does it slowly, even though every part of his body demands that he ramp up the pace. As badly as he wants his hands — and his teeth, and his tongue…— all over you now, he can’t be the jump scare that sets your little bunny heart to sprinting. The adrenaline is practically vibrating off your frame already with every step he takes in your direction.

Though you could, you don’t move further away, the nearer he gets. You stay put with the small of your back against the lip of the granite counter, hypnotized. Right where he wants you.

Once he’s close enough, Wooyoung tests the waters. You let him; your gaze clings to him so strongly that he feels the weight of it without reciprocating. With his thumb and forefinger, he traces the belt loop closest to your left hip, then tugs slightly, making your breath quicken for a moment. 

Eyes still focused on his own ministrations, he murmurs, “Am I the first stray you’ve ever brought home?”

You don’t answer with words. His gaze flicks upwards, and from under heavy-lidded eyes, he sees the tiny nod.

“Full of surprises.” He looks down again, purposely depriving you of eye contact, and moves his fingers from your belt loop so that the pad of his thumb brushes over the top of your jeans. There, the skin of your hip peeks out from under the denim, hot to the touch. “Not just sweet, are you?”

“Someone told me I needed a bad influence.”

The sudden re-introduction of your voice pulls his focus. You stare back at him boldly, and it feels like a dare. Both of his hands move to your hips now, simultaneously guiding you closer to his chest and keeping you pinned between his body and the island.

“You’ll miss your Sunday morning pilates, I fear,” he tuts with a slight shake of his head.

“You’ll make attending redundant, I hope.”

And then your mouth is on his, all tongue and teeth, while you card desperate fingers through his hair. It occurs to him, as he licks into your mouth, that the split-dyed strands you're clinging to are a microcosm. 

Black and white. 

Conflicting tastes, like sugar and salt, that only make sense together in certain contexts. Like this one — right here, right now — with the two of you tangled up in your half-lit kitchen, so caught up in exploration that inhibition takes the backseat. Steeping in the aftertaste of soju and cigarette smoke, scent heady like arousal.

You break the kiss to catch your breath but can’t make it very far. His teeth claim your bottom lip, pulling forth the softest little growl he’s ever heard.

“Fuck,” he echoes with a growl of his own. 

That’s it. Breathing is overrated. Wooyoung’s ready to suffocate, so long as you let him.

“Lay back on the counter.”

You’re stunned into silence for a second, and while you blink back at him, he wonders if you’ll actually let him eat you out where you eat. It’s objectively filthy, he knows, but he might drop dead where he stands if he has to wait another second — or take another step elsewhere — before he tastes you.

Your answer is a leap, figuratively and literally. The hands you’ve been using to cling to him each flatten palm-down on the island behind you. With his grip on your hips to boost you, you scramble to your new stage; and you shatter the conservative expectations he had for you in the process. 

A newfound confidence flashes in your eyes, making his stomach flip and his dick twitch. A patronizing frown graces your kiss-bitten lips. “You didn’t walk three kilometers here just to look at me, did you?”

He sure as shit didn’t. Still, he can’t help but bask in the odd sense of pride he feels in staring up at you on the pedestal he put you on. The more time you spend with him, the rougher you seem to get around the edges; and he’d be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t love the grit.

In lieu of a verbal response, Wooyoung locks eyes with you and gestures downward with the index finger of his right hand. You follow his silent command eagerly and without question; he keeps the praise you’ve earned on the tip of his tongue, saving it for later.

It takes less time than he expects to strip you of your jeans, most of which is attributed to slipping them off your ankles and dropping them blindly over his shoulder. They hit what he believes to be the range with a soft twack, then a barely audible crumple when they finally find the floor. 

Your lace underwear disappears in a similar fashion, albeit more eagerly. Couldn’t be helped, he thinks. That scrap of fabric was the last barrier between him and the thing he’s been craving most since he met you; and fuck, if you don’t exceed his expectations once again.

“Christ,” is all he can say.

It’s rare to find a pussy so perfect that it wipes out his vocabulary, let alone makes him want to weep. That’s exactly what’s waiting for him when you spread your thighs wide enough to accommodate his body between them. Really, the only thing driving him more insane than the sight of you is the thought of how many self-imposed rules you’ve broken to get to this point — the self-discipline you’ve thrown out the window on your way down to him.

He accepts the invitation, descends upon your wet heat like a man starved, and loops his arms underneath your thighs. Immediately, your thighs tighten around the sides of his head, muffling the groan that slips out of him the second your taste hits his tongue. Just the same, you’ve got him drunk in an instant while he laves his way through folds sweeter than cherry wine.

From under his own lashes, he looks up and sees yours flutter at the sensation of his lips encircling your clit and suckling slowly, deeply.

“Oh, my g-god,” you hiccup before your fingers are in his hair again, nails scratching perfectly along his scalp. “You’re so —” 

Wooyoung’s wickedly curved lips are slick in more ways than one, though he doubts you can see them through all those stars in your eyes. You don’t see the switch-up coming, either. Unwilling to let you race too far ahead of him, he scales it back, trading his deep pulls for targeted kitten licks.

“— evil.”

Your frustration rings out with a tortured whine. Wooyoung can’t blame you; he knows he’s cruel for guiding you so close to the edge, right out of the gate, then refusing to send you off of it. But he has to draw this out as long as he can, savor what he can for however long you give him.

And to your credit, you take it well. 

You give, too, offering up the moans, whimpers, and sighs he couldn’t have dreamed up correctly if he tried.

Well…

Wooyoung did try. Gave it his best shot, even, but his imagination fell short. He knows that now. The pitch was wrong, the timing was off, and he failed to anticipate just how badly it’d fuck him up to feel you grinding against his tongue. To have your fingers tied off in his hair, refusing to accept anything less than closeness.

That particular chorus swells for the first time when he unwinds his right arm from where it secures your left thigh; and his middle finger slides into your cunt, curls upwards to greet that spongy patch of nerves along your front wall. 

Eyes swimming with previously untapped desire, you look so pitifully perfect. Only breaking eye contact to throw your head back, you start to wail, “Wooyoung, I —” 

But the rest of that thought must turn to static before you can finish it. Charged silence settles in its place, save for your ragged breathing. All the while, his tongue never lets up on your poor, abused clit, though your arousal already has him coated, leaking down over the knuckle.

A particularly needy tug of his hair seeks what you can’t verbalize. 

More.

Closer.

When he adds his ring finger to fuck you further open for him, you can’t keep his name from spilling out of your mouth. Wooyoung starts to sound like a summoning spell; an invocation repeated so desperately that he just might give you what you want.

“W-Wooyoung, please,” you choke out, hips bucking up to chase his mouth. “I’m so close!”

The fact that you’re downright begging — on the brink of tears, no less — goes straight to his head. He lets up for a moment to purr, “Since you asked so nicely…”

The hand he doesn’t have half-buried in your heat grips your right hip, hard, securing you against the granite. It’s for the best, really. You jolt so much when he finally lets you cum that you could’ve knocked him out otherwise.

Not that he’d complain.

When the aftershocks peter out, and you gain back some control of your trembling limbs, you collapse back onto the countertop, chest heaving as your breath struggles to even out. One leg stays put, hinged over his shoulder, the best kind of dead weight; the other pools off the edge of the island, hanging limply.

Before pulling away entirely, Wooyoung presses an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh, suckling slightly — just enough to leave a calling card, though he doesn’t want anyone but you to know it’s there.

“You fucking menace.”

Your eyes flutter open and catch the way he’s grinning, the lower half of his face otherwise shining with a mix of spit and slick. With you watching intently, he licks his lips, simpering, “Think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear.”

“Deserved.” You sigh contentedly and close your eyes again for a second, but the blissed-out look on your face doesn’t dissipate. 

Wooyoung wonders if you’re holding onto the image of him between your thighs, replaying it behind your lids. The sight of you is going to haunt him — then and now, before and after. Even if your stamina is depleted now, his appetite’s been sated. He can survive off of this moment alone for weeks if necessary.

But you summon the strength to stretch your arms over your head, to moan breathily while you arch your back off the counter and ease the tension in your muscles. Then, in a burst of vitality, you sit upright. Eyes alight, you give him a smile to match.

“Help me down?”

As if he’d say no to a question asked that sweetly.

You wobble when your feet touch the ground again and thank him when he snakes an arm around your waist to steady you. With a nod in the direction of what Wooyoung assumes is your bedroom, you beckon him, “Come with me.”

“That’s been the plan, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at him — another first — and take his hand in yours. Fingers intertwined, you lead and he follows through the adjoining living room towards a door on the far side of the apartment. The pair of you barely cross the threshold into your bedroom before you turn and tug his hand, pulling him into a kiss.

“Do me a favor,” you murmur against his lips.

Wooyoung has no questions about that — the answer is yes, no matter what the favor is — but there is something he’s wondering about: when you open your mouth against his, can you taste yourself on his tongue?

Distracted by that thought, and the way your free hand makes its way to the button of his jeans, he nods. It gives him the opportunity to swallow down the groan that builds in his chest when you squeeze his still-clothed cock.

Your mouth leaves his then, drops to the side of his neck. Something about the light nip of your teeth below his ear makes his resolve start to crumble. It only gets harder when the warmth of your tongue flicks over his skin to soothe the sting. He sounds fucked out already when he sighs, “Anything.”

“Let me repay you for all those drinks you never charged me for.” Between kisses down the length of his neck, you purr, “Not exactly subtle, you know.”

He clenches his jaw to keep it from dropping. “Have I been hustled?” 

“Is it hustling if I offer to reimburse you?” 

Knowing damn well what it’ll do to him, you flutter your lashes against his skin, forcing him to fight off a shiver. There’s no hiding the rush of heat that follows; he doesn’t need to ask to know that you feel it creeping up his neck. “I’ll make up for it,” you promise. “Atone, and all that.”

Wooyoung reaches up and cups your jaw with his hand; you follow his direction and look up at him with excitement twinkling in your eyes, juxtaposing the deep black in his. “I’m charging interest,” he bites back. “The rates are astronomical.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, indeed. Get on the bed, sweetheart.”

With a light smack on your ass, he sends you on your way. In the few seconds it takes you to skip over to your mattress and jump onto it, he tugs his shirt up and over his head, then tosses it aside. Before unbuckling his jeans and tearing those off, too, he snatches his wallet from the back pocket. More specifically, the condom he’s been keeping within just in case you ever decided to stoop to his level.

You’re a second away from drooling when he makes his way over and stops at the edge of the bed. That kind of hunger is yet another thing he failed to see coming. There’s something insatiable in your eyes now, darkening by the second. 

You reach out for the condom, but he pulls his hand back, holds it up where you can’t reach. Frustration makes your eyebrows pinch together. Out of context — if you weren’t naked, wet, and wanting him — he’d likely go out of his way to tell you how fucking cute you look when you’re annoyed. 

“Don’t pout at me, sweetheart.” Wooyoung’s warning tone is gravel-lined, sharp to the touch when it hits you. Whether you intend it or not, your breath hitches in tandem with your pupils dilating.  “I’ll let you do it, but I have one condition. Consider it a repayment term.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing with intrigue. “And what’s that?”

“No hands.”

The surprised look he was counting on never comes. He gets sheer determination instead. You pull the packet from between his fingers, rip the foil open with your teeth, and flick the empty wrapper onto your nightstand. Not a second is wasted in you tugging his black briefs down his thighs.

You don’t deal in unpaid debts, either, it seems.

What happens next nearly puts him in an early grave. Wooyoung fucking wishes for a fly on the wall to witness you — someone else to memorialize the finesse you exhibit in working that latex down his length with your mouth alone — because he can’t believe his own eyes. In fact, he has to screw them shut to keep from cumming at the sight of you with his dick down your throat, lips flush to his pelvis.

“My god,” he groans, head dipping backwards. “If that’s how good your fucking mouth feels…”

You give him a second to pull himself together. Then, you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him. He drops into the space you were occupying just a second ago, and as soon as his back hits the mattress, you steady yourself with your palms on his chest and position yourself over him.

Now, he can’t keep his hands to himself. His fingertips scratch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps along the fastidiously trained muscles underneath his touch. Palms gliding up the curve of your ass, then your waist, then those fucking tits.

“Shit,” you mewl. He lightly pinches your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, spurring you on to rake your nails over the flesh of his chest. The way he tenses under your touch must embolden you. “Play with me all you want, but I need you inside of me now.”

Wooyoung has no idea where this assertiveness came from, but he’ll be goddamned if he doesn’t give you everything you want and then some. To prove that you’ve earned the lot, you line yourself up and take everything he has. 

Somehow, you manage to take his vision, too. The world gets blurry as your heat envelopes him; everything in the periphery blackens until all that’s left is you throwing your head back in pleasure. No other light, no noise beyond the obscene sound of your pussy soaking his length and the collision of your perfect ass against the tops of his thighs.

As strong as you are, Wooyoung knows your orgasm will wipe you out long before your body tires. He sees your eyes start to roll back in your head, even when you put your palms down behind you and lean away from him to perfect the angle. 

Not good enough, he decides. He wants to watch your pupils blow when you fall apart.

“C’mere,” he rasps. 

Fuck, he’s about to break, too. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You push off your hands and move to lean in, but you wind up crumpling against his chest, immediately overwhelmed by the depths of his strokes when you re-enter his gravity. With the proximity perfected, every movement that follows is desperate — animalistic, even. Clinging fingers, sweat slicked bodies swapping searing heat. He lifts his hips to drive himself further into you with every downbeat, sets a pace so punishing that he has you speaking in tongues.

When you cum the second time, the moan that rips through you almost sounds like a sob. It really might be. The droplets on your cheeks are either tears or sweat; one or both would be justified, considering the show you just put on for him.

Shit, how you managed to blow his world to pieces just by walking into his bar, he’ll never understand. All he knows is that when he cums — not long after you — and his entire fucking body goes numb, you’re there on the other side of the cataclysm to kiss him back to life.

Sweet.

When you wake up, you don’t even have a guess as to what time it is. That’s your fault, you know. You didn’t think to connect your phone to its charger prior to falling asleep in a mess of sheets. The numerous alarms you always keep set didn’t go off, obviously, but right now, that’s the least of your worries. 

Until your phone has enough juice to power back on, you won’t know if Wooyoung texted you before sneaking out of your apartment.

You’d taken it as a good sign when he asked for your number in a fucked-out haze. Now, you realize, that naivety of yours was operating in full swing, even when the rest of you was down for the count. That’s what one-night-stands are for, you tell yourself. That’s the decision you made.

Uncharacteristically, you’re tempted to spend the rest of your day — however much of it is left — rotting in bed. It’s an urge you’ll give in to, you can already tell; just like the one that got you here in the first place. The only thing stronger than the call of your bed is the grumbling of your stomach, begging for sustenance.

Sighing loudly, you throw your comforter off your lower half and wiggle towards the edge of your bed. Bare feet meet the braided rug below, then unsteady legs do their best to get their bearings. As you ache, you realize that you need to give credit where it’s due:

You’re currently in the best shape of your life, and Wooyoung still managed to fuck the constitution out of you.

You bend slowly to scoop a shirt from your untouched laundry basket, groaning all the while. On its own, it’s long enough to cover your ass, so you don’t bother to dress yourself further — except for the fuzzy slippers waiting next to your bedroom door.

It’s closed, you note when you finally bother to look at it. It wasn’t when you fell into bed with Wooyoung. He probably didn’t want to disturb you on the way out, you figure. This would strike you as thoughtful if it didn’t feel like a chapter ending too soon. Reaching out to reopen it, you tell yourself to be less sentimental.

In the living room, laying eyes on an empty kitchen, you also tell yourself, I told you so. This isn’t a drama, after all. There’s no love interest in your kitchen to cook you an unexpected breakfast. 

Pre-made frozen breakfast sandwich it is, then.

You tear open the package with more effort than you should’ve needed to expend, then dump the single-serving lump onto a paper plate. As if on autopilot, you shove the plate into the microwave and smash a few buttons without registering much of it. The quiet hum of the machine nearly lulls you straight back to sleep.

Well, it likely could have.

The metallic rattling up the hall catches your attention, prompting you to step backwards so you can peer over at your front door and confirm that it’s locked. It is. You turn back to your breakfast in progress, and it takes five (5) entire seconds before you realize the issue here.

Keys jingle with more determination, right on cue. You spin around fully this time, eyes wide, to find Wooyoung in your doorway. He holds the door open with his elbow because both his hands are full; and as if that all wasn’t enough, he tries to toe off his shoes without being able to see them over the cardboard to-go tray in his hands.

“Fucking —” he grunts, wobbling. 

It must’ve been louder than he intended because he winces immediately. In his moment of panic, his eyes flick over to your bedroom door. Then, when he realizes it’s open, they search for you, blinking in surprise when they find you. He peeps, “Oh.”

As it turns out, his ability to make you lose your words isn’t limited to late hours. The sun is beating through the sliding glass door to your balcony, and you confirm that you’re just as dumbstruck by him in daylight. So, you simply point to the drinks and paper bag he’s holding with your eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Found that café you go to on Tuesdays,” Wooyoung explains gruffly. His morning voice is every bit as ruinous as you imagined it would be. “The logo on their cups is just a cloud, so it took a lot of wandering to solve that fucking mystery.”

This time, it’s you who peeps. “Oh?”

It’s then that he finally succeeds in getting his shoes off. With his hip, he nudges the door shut; your key ring chimes in the process, having been attached to his belt loop. In a few steps, he sets his burdens down on the kitchen island and looks up at you with a wicked glint in his eye. Apparently, his immediate thought is the same as yours. Simpering, he picks everything back up and makes for your living room’s coffee table instead.

“I’m glad to report that the green shit you drink doesn’t include algae or moss.” He lifts a smoothie from the carrier and holds it out to you, flashing you a smile that makes your knees wobble. “However, I regret to inform you that it does contain vegetables.”

If you try any harder to bite back your idiotic grin, you might lose your lips. “Did you — did you really think there was moss in it?”

He waves his hand dismissively. Notably, he doesn’t say no. That hand then lowers, finger crooked to beckon you closer. You move in, and you try to focus on the moment in front of you, rather than the obscene flashbacks the gesture gives you. The knowing look you expect doesn’t follow, though. Wooyoung simply places your drink in your left hand and your keys in your right.

“Sorry for borrowing those without asking or — well, notifying you in any way, whatsoever.” He grimaces. “I figured I’d be gone for a minute, and I didn’t want someone to waltz through your unlocked door and wake you up.”

“Was burglary on that list of concerns, or is sleep truly your main priority?”

At this, he grins like an idiot. “You’re getting better at that, you know.”

The look on your face must convey your confusion. 

“I like the version of you that doesn’t pull punches,” he continues, sounding almost embarrassed to admit something about himself.

You take a move from his playbook and slide your finger through his belt loop, tugging him forward until he’s squarely within kissing distance. “This Wooyoung?” You murmur, “The one who got up early to hunt down a smoothie he’s disgusted by? Objectively likable.”

He rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t distract from the pink tint overtaking his cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”

You kiss him before he can offer to agree to disagree. And when you finally pull back, you nod firmly. “He might be sweet enough for me.”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

ateez masterlist. multi masterlist. navigation.

tagging: @jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz @sourkimchi @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon (also paging @moni-logues because i feel like woo is our sister wife, lmfao.)

[hgfictionwriter]

Just Friends

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You're Jessie's girlfriend and she gets irritated to no end when people assume you're just friends. She gets even more irritated when you play along with it. You can't help that she's so fun to stir up.

Warnings: Nothing.

A/N: Short little fluff piece. Based on this request.

"I hate that," Jessie scowled as she pulled out her wallet, setting it on the table as you waited for the server to return with the bill. "Together or separate?" She mocked mildly. "Together. Obviously. You're my girlfriend. If I was a guy they would've just brought us one bill."

"I hear you," you said, stifling a chuckle at how worked up she was getting. You couldn't help yourself – you had to poke her a bit. "I guess we just look like pals."

She gave you a slow, scrutinizing look, sparking a shrug from you.

"What? What about us right now would indicate that we're together?"

Her forehead creased as she stared at you. You were seated opposite each other, which was totally fine and expected, but combined with Jessie's general lack of PDA, you could sometimes understand how people might not immediately understand the context of your relationship.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked defensively in a hushed voice as she leaned in. "We're sitting across from each other!"

You gave a small smile, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand while giving another shrug. "Well, some light flirtations wouldn't kill you." You sat back, a smirk lingering. "If anything, it probably just looks like me hitting on you all lunch."

She frowned deeper, glancing away as concern settled on her face. Her voice was softer this time. "I'm affectionate," she pouted. And she was, but true, not often in front of prying eyes.

"Sure thing, pal," you quipped, ensuring to catch her eye as you casually looked away. You smirked as you saw her tense up out of the corner of your eye.

"Babe," she said, planting her feet on the ground and leaning in. "Come on."

The server returned, interrupting any further debate. You could see Jessie was still irate as she quietly paid the bill.

"So, any plans for the rest of the afternoon?" The server asked. You really shouldn't stir Jessie up, but it was too hard to resist.

"Oh, not really. We're just old friends catching up – might wander around for a bit after this." You smiled up at the server, but didn't miss the way Jessie froze mid-signature. You bit the inside of your cheek as you saw her slowly look up at you in your periphery.

"Oh, that's so nice!" The server said. "Well, enjoy catching up and enjoy the rest of your day."

You watched quietly as Jessie returned the bill to the server with a terse smile before shifting her gaze to you.

"Seriously?" She asked, a fake smile still plastered on her face.

"What?" You asked innocently as you stood up. "Oh, and thanks for lunch, friend." You bit back a snicker at how her jaw dropped and you walked away knowing she'd be on your heels in a second.

"What the hell," she whispered as she jogged up next to you and you both continued down the sidewalk.

"Oh, come on, babe. I'm just having some fun," you said as you went to hook your arm around hers and cuddle in, but she ducked away.

"Uh uh," she said. "You want to say we're pals, then you don't get any cuddles."

"Fine," you said haughtily. You weren't concerned. Jessie was acting affronted, but you knew she'd come around regardless. "Roomie," you added as you gave her a nudge, pulling another withering stare out of her.

You were at a store a few blocks over trying on some new clothes and Jessie was still in a mood. Normally, she followed closely behind you, holding whatever clothes you wanted to try, suggesting options she liked for you as well. This time, she sulked around the opposite end of the store, though you caught her peering over the racks now and again to check on you.

You played nice enough though. You brought over clothes you liked, asked her opinion, showed her things you liked for her. She grunted a few replies, but mostly just glowered.

"I'm going to try these on," you told her, finding her in some far off corner of the store.

"K," she continued to pout, hardly offering you a glance.

You retreated to the change room, half regretting taking the joke this far when she didn't join you like she normally would.

You sighed as you stepped out of the change room to examine yourself in the mirror. Jessie had wandered much closer, but was still very determinedly examining a nearby hoodie and not you.

"That outfit looks great."

Your head snapped to the side in search of the source of the voice.

"Sorry – I don't mean to intrude," the woman said. "I just come shopping on my own as well and always appreciate getting some feedback or confirmation."

"Oh, well," you said, eyes flitting back to Jessie again who had now moved to a closer display and was watching intently. "I did bring someone. She's just not much of a shopper. Thanks for the affirmation though – I appreciate it," you said warmly.

The woman and Jessie locked eyes and the woman teased her. "Ah, well come on. Get in there," she encouraged with a wave. "That's the whole point of shopping with friends."

"Yeah, Jess. What are friends for?" You asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

The woman retreated and Jessie came towards you with another glower on her face.

"Wow," she said flatly.

"What do you think?" You asked as you modeled your outfit for her.

She crossed her arms, still unimpressed, but eyed you up and down. She eventually cocked her head and she answered you.

"I'm sure a girlfriend would think you're hot in that outfit. A friend? A friend would probably say you look just fine," she said lightly.

"Okay, well, what do you say?" You asked. She shrugged, turning away and distracting herself by looking at other clothes.

"You tell me. Am I your girlfriend or your friend?" She asked with mock indifference, straightening her posture as she did so. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

"Well from the way you were eyeing me a moment ago, I'd say the former," you said flirtatiously, drawing a blush out of her as she fought back a smile of embarrassment. You gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Come on," you said gently as you tugged on her elbow, coaxing her back out into the store. "Let me get these and I'll buy you ice cream as an apology." She grumbled, but followed along more easily than before.

You stepped out of the store and she reached over to grab the bag out of your hand. You held onto it and she tugged it.

"Let me carry it; that's my job," she complained. "It's my sacred duty as your girlfriend," she went on with an eye roll.

"And you're the best girlfriend," you complimented her as you released the bag and gave her another kiss on the cheek as you walked. She rolled her eyes again and shot you a look.

"Oh, so I've regained my title, have I?" She asked skeptically as she arched an eyebrow.

"You never lost it," you said as you gave her a playful nudge and wrapped your arm around hers. She allowed it this time though she still grumbled. "Don't be silly."

"I don't like you calling me your friend," she pouted.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't nice of me. I got carried away teasing you," you said, kissing her shoulder this time. She watched you wordlessly for a second as you walked together before giving you a quick, fleeting kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m not affectionate enough. Or show enough PDA,” she said in a low tone.

“Hey,” you said softly as you planted your feet, causing her to stop as well and look at you. She held your gaze for a moment before looking away with an inaudible exhale.

“I don’t need you to change anything. I just got caught up in the joke. You’re not showy with your affection - I know that and I’m not bothered at all. I know you love me and you show me in ways that mean more to me than simply initiating some hand holding in public,” you finished with a light smirk. She looked unconvinced, so you carried on. “I mentioned that new restaurant and you booked a lunch for us there unprompted. You come shopping with me even though you despise it. You insist on holding my bags even though I’m perfectly capable. You show me you care in many ways and I love you for that.”

Jessie exhaled again but this time her body relaxed. You smiled and gave her a sweet kiss.

“And you don’t mind when I’m affectionate,” you said with a wink. 

“I’d be stupid to turn away hugs and kisses from a girl as gorgeous as you,” she said, cracking a smirk.

“A girl who happens to be your girlfriend,” you teased. She gave you a wink.

“Lucky me.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two! 

First part is HERE. 

Next part is HERE. 

Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged. 

"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth. 

He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him. 

"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food. 

Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater. 

Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted. 

His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen. 

Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie. 

Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up. 

"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time. 

Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him. 

"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing  his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention. 

No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin. 

All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away. 

"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage. 

Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes… 

"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!" 

He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!" 

"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood. 

It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks. 

She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet. 

At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve. 

"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side. 

"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy. 

Not that he could stop it because what the hell. 

"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. 

(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.) 

"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?" 

Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order. 

Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--

"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling. 

"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker. 

Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought. 

“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?” 

“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.

Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both. 

Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed. 

There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall. 

"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!" 

As if that made any fucking sense. 

Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did. 

He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve. 

Right now? Eddie Munson was furious. 

Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river. 

He was enraged. 

"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better." 

It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted. 

"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.) 

Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom. 

"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out. 

It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.

"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses. 

Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair." 

It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough. 

"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?" 

"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink. 

“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!” 

“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering. 

“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.

Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged. 

Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name. 

“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off. 

His hands were still shaking. 

“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.” 

Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve. 

“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"

“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.” 

Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.” 

Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers. 

“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.” 

There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back. 

Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers. 

Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.” 

Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking. 

Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly. 

He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup. 

[simpforboys]

daddy’s money

rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: rafe overhears someone being rude to you at your job. it doesn’t end well for either of you, but rafe tries to make up for it.

warnings: arguing, violence (a punch is thrown), protective!rafe, sugar daddy!rafe (?!??), fluff, reader can speak spanish (but race or anything isn't described), not proof read

these are based on my personal experiences (love working retail), just minus the punching

the ring of the bell made your ears perk up as you folded clothes.

you began working at amor, a popular clothing shop for kooks of all ages about a year ago. why they hired you, a pogue, was beyond you, but nonetheless you appreciated it.

especially since your manager, kat, loved you, as she came from rags and rising to riches.

you loved your job, being able to wear casual dresses and clothes, as half the store was beachy clothes and the other half was fancier.

“is that y/n l/n?”

you turned your head to see rafe cameron, kook prince. you hadn’t seen him in awhile, his hair now buzzed as he walked with the same prideful look.

you grinned, putting the shirt you were folding onto the table before hugging the tall man.

you and rafe had a thing, as one day he came into the shop you two immediately hit it off.

“did you find everything okay?” you asked, trying not to stare at the attractive man in front of you.

you scanned the shorts and polo shirts he was buying, noticing him smiling down at you. his hair was pushed back with a baseball cap on his head.

“i did now,” he said slyly.

“oh yeah?” you grinned, taking the security tags off the clothes. a heat rose to your cheeks as you bagged his items.

“didn’t realize they had pretty girls working here, y/n.” the man read your name tag.

“i wouldn't say that..." you trailed off, not knowing the man's name.

"rafe, rafe cameron." a cameron, huh? it had shocked you, really. the camerons were all over the news and basically ran figure eight.

"your total is going to be $259.73." you couldn't help but peek as he pulled out his wallet, his gold card practically dissing you as he put it in the pinpad.

you handed him his receipt, feeling electricity as you two accidentally brushed hands. he smiled down at you, grabbing his bag.

"i'll see you around, y/n."

"have a good day, rafe."

you watched as he exited the building, but quickly turned around after he paused. you furrowed your brows as he walked back up to the register.

"can i take you out?"

the rest of the story turned around, but you still kept in touch with rafe until he was on the ship with his father. he never texted or called you back after that.

"thanks for answering me." you said sarcastically, trying to hide your beaming smile. even though you hadn't heard from him, you still missed talking and being around him.

"sorry, mama. things got tough."

rafe's eyes wandered your body. from the way your hair was styled, your shorts that displayed your pretty legs, cropped tank top that showed some cleavage with a hawaiian shirt over it to make it seem a bit more modest, although failing to do so.

"i bet, being a cameron isn't so easy, huh?" you teased, continuing to fold the shirts you had previously ditched.

rafe didn't get to respond before kat came over, cutting off your conversation. "y/n, hay un cliente (there is a customer)."

kat was a very strong person. her family had come from mexico in search of a new life, and kat had quickly picked up the pace as she was able to open up amor. the store allowed her family to move from the cut to figure eight. she was around 5'6, brown hair that looked black in some lighting, with a mole next to her top lip that just added to herself, in a weird way.

"lo veo (i see him)." working at amor, you quickly picked up on spanish (unless you already speak it). kat eyed rafe, before nodding at him and heading back to the fitting room.

"did you find everything okay?" you questioned the man. he was around 40, dressed in a collared shirt with jeans to match. he had a rolex on his wrist, displaying his wealth.

rafe had moved to look at some of the mannequins, staying close by.

the man didn't respond, scrolling on his phone. you pursed your lips together, biting back your tongue as you continued to scan his items. his body language seemed defensive as he stood away from you.

"i like your-"

unfortunately, working customer service you had some rude customers from time to time, especially being a pogue in kook territory.

"just zip it pogue and bag my clothes. and don't try anything suspicious, either."

you were taken aback by his comment.

"don't talk to her like that." rafe had appeared next to the register, his nostrils flaring as his normal blue eyes turned dark. his pupils were blown wide as he stared at the man like he was going to kill him.

"and who are you?" the man scoffed.

"she's just doing her job, dickhead."

"if she was just doing her job, she wouldn't be tryna talk to me. now, who are you? do you even work here?" the man eyed rafe angrily, trying to appear more dominate but ultimately failed. rafe was taller and seemed to be much stronger.

"rafe-" you tried.

"rafe cameron, is that right?" the man suddenly smirked, sizing rafe up.

"i should've known. all camerons are dicks, especially your father."

you saw how rafe clenched his fist, the veins in his hand looking like they were on the verge of exploding.

"but i never expected a cameron to be protecting a pogue, or less a whore."

you gasped as rafe's knuckles made contact with the man's cheek, a cracking sound that could be heard around the store.

"rafe!" you shouted as he shook his hand, trying to not beat the man to unconsciousness.

rafe saw red as he grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him out of the store. "never fucking come back, got that?"

the man, now with a bruised cheek that appeared to have a broken bone, quickly walked off. rafe spit on the floor, walking back into the store.

kat had come running over, the noise causing her to be alerted.

"y/n, what the hell was that?" she asked, her voice thick with an accent as she was fuming.

"he was being-"

"we have a no violence policy. i told you to stay away from that cabrón (asshole)." kat swore.

"kat-" the woman wasn't letting you finish.

"you know i love you, kid. but that was unacceptable."

your lip trembled as your heart sank. you knew what her next words were going to be.

"you're fired, and i want rafe out of the store permanently."

rafe watched the scene, opening his mouth to speak but quickly stopped himself. a tear ran down your cheek as you wiped it away.

"who needs this stupid job away," you mumbled. you grabbed rafe's bicep, guiding him out of the store.

once outside, you let go of him and slightly pushed him backwards. rafe stared at you in shock, his knuckles throbbing in pain.

"what was that for?"

"you got me fired, asshole!"

"you just let dickheads speak to you like that?" rafe asked, an appalled tone in his voice as his mouth slightly hung open.

"yes! i need money, i don't care what gross rich men say."

the north carolina heat radiated off of you two, seagulls squawking as they flew above.

"y/n-" he went to grab your hands but you pulled away.

"i don't have daddy's money to support me, rafe. you just cost me my entire income and home."

your words were harsh as you stared directly into his eyes, a flame ignited in you that he lit.

"listen, okay. i can take care of you."

rafe was trying to remain calm, not wanting to scare you away from him if he raised his voice too much.

"oh, yeah? how?"

"c'mon." rafe took you down to where barry was sitting in rafe's car. the man got out as he saw you and rafe approach, the tension thick.

"long time, y/n." barry nodded his head at you, which you pursed your lips in response and watched as rafe popped the trunk.

inside were cases as rafe opened one, shiny gold beaming off the sun to peek at you. your stomach dropped, looking between rafe and barry who had huge smirks on their faces.

"how did you-"

rafe carefully handed you a piece of gold, watching as you inspected it.

"each one is worth at least 20 grand. we're set for life with these, baby."

you let out a surprised laugh, any feel of anger going away from the sight of all the cases filled with your new riches.

"no bullshit, right?"

"100 percent real, honey. rafe melted it down himself."

rafe gave barry a death glare from the nickname he called you.

"how- where- you know what, never mind. i don't care. you guys are fucking loaded."

"we're loaded, y/n." rafe put his arm around you, bringing you into a side hug as you smelt his dior sauvage cologne.

you grinned, feeling rafe press a kiss to your temple as you hugged him tightly. you ran your hand up and down his muscular back as his hand went down to your lower back.

"so.... are you my sugar daddies?" you joked. barry laughed as rafe rolled his eyes.

"c'mon, country club. we got clients to see."

[strbymacaroon]

Silent Love: Ch. 1 - New Roommate(s)

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter One

Master-List: Here!

Read on Ao3: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 14,003

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 13th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Monday

“He was so big.” Nobara shivers, a small smile gracing her lips. “I know he was totally texting other girls behind my back and shit, but that dick was dicking.” She points aggressively at nothing, merely trying to make her point stronger. 

“Ew. Can you not tell me that right now? I’m eating.” You turn away from her, twisting your fork in your noodles, “I was gone for a week, and this is what you do in my absence. You should be ashamed of yourself.” You take a bit of your food, but immediately follow it with a sip of your Sprite. Adding a cough with a very suspicious word that rhymes with shut. 

Nobara playfully glares at you, “No girl, you signed up for this when we became friends, you need to know.” Nobara leans her head down on the table, biting her bottom lip. “I’m telling you, I miss my stink-stink.” She pulls out her phone, “Maybe I should text him…” 

“I don’t want to hear you crying about him anymore.” You scold, pointing your fork at her accusingly, “I can’t deal with your sobbing when I’m trying to go to bed because he broke your heart again.” It’s the reason you're moving out, actually. 

That's being mean, it isn’t the reason why you’re moving out. But, it definitely is one of them. 

A playful smirk slowly builds on Nobara's face, “It won’t be my emotions I'm crying over.” She laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“Okay, that’s enough for brunch today.” You shut your Panda Express box closed, “Call me when you're no longer in heat so you can help me pack.” You grab your tote-bag, slinging it over your shoulders. 

Nobara pouts, “Awh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me already.” She pushes herself away from the table, trailing behind you. “I mean, I’m not stopping you, but who would want to leave me?” 

Obviously you do. 

“Are you moving in with your parents in the meantime?” Nobara asks, tilting her head at you. 

You shake your head, “No, I already have an apartment contract. Rooming with this random girl who goes to a different school.” You sigh, “It’s a bit far for my comfort, but the view to the city is gorgeous. Couldn’t pass it up.” You’re going to have to deal with taking public transportation from now on, but that’s a new risk you’re willing to take. 

“Yeah, my new roommate is moving in on Monday.” Nobara sighs, “I don’t even know her name yet…” 

“That can be a good thing, maybe you’ll make a new friend to tell you sex stories to.” You smile at her kindly. 

“No, I swear if you cut me off after you move out I’ll go and kill you myself.” Nobara accuses, a finger pointing at you scoldingly. “You have to have lunch with me everyday now that I can’t see you.” 

You may be mean, but you’re not that mean. “Of course not, I would never leave you. I wouldn’t give up your answers for Anatomy and Physiology.” You tap her nose, grabbing her hand and pulling her next to you. “Also your wallet for amazing food.”

“Good to know all I’m good for is homework answers and food.” Nobara groans, yet tightens her hand around yours nonetheless. “Next time I swear I’m going to let you figure things out on your own. No more puppy eyes when you don’t want to do the homework, or when you’re hungry.” 

“That could be a good thing. Except the food part.” You mutter, an amused smile slowly building on your lips. “I’m sure my future patients will appreciate me learning the curriculum rather than copying someone else.” 

“Agreed.” She leans her head on your shoulder, hugging your arm. “Hopefully you’ll be able to pass the final without me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass life without you.” 

You lean your head atop of her’s, sighing softly. “You’ll be okay, next thing you know your next roommate is going to be reenacting you when you tell her your sex stories.” Sure, Nobara is a hard person to get along with and can be quite brash, but you still enjoy her friendship nonetheless. 

Nobara pauses for a moment in thought, “Wait? Do you want me to call my friends? They can also help you pack.” She smiles wickedly, “We can make them do the heavy stuff because we’re just..” She dramatically places the back of her hand to her forehead, “Weak little fraile women who can’t do anything without the fear of breaking a nail.”

You look at your nails, seeing that they were freshly done, a cute white set with small jews sparkling in the sun. “That is a genuine concern of mine, though.” You lower your hand again, being careful not to snag it on your bag. 

“Even better.” Nobara smiles, tearing her hand away from you and pulling out her phone to open her messages. “Here, I’ll call them and ask for help.” She clicks someone’s contact before you can even answer. 

“No, please don’t.” You tell her, watching as her finger hovers over the call button. “I don’t even know these people and I’m asking them to do stuff for me, that’s going to make me feel bad.” You press your lips together, “Maybe if they were my friends… but it’s okay, I’ll have everything done.” 

Nobara waves you off, “Nonsense, it’s not like they have anything better to do.” She laughs, “Hell, they’re probably just laying around waiting for me to call them to give them something to do.” Her finger presses the call button, you immediately cringe. 

The phone rings once, before the line is picked up. Nobara looks to the side, “You busy?” You can’t hear the other side, but she smiles and quickly adds, “No you’re not, stop being like that. Come help me pack after class.” She ends the call, shoving the phone into her back pocket.

“I hope they don’t come.” You whisper, only to pause, “Oh my god! Shit, I completely forgot I’m supposed to meet up with my professor right now!” You pull away from Nobara, panicking, “I’ll be right back, I’ll—I’ll meet you at our dorm!” You shove your food into her hands before quickly dashing off, your skirt bouncing with each step.

—

You’re out of breath, but slam the doors or your lecture hall open, catching the attention of the white haired professor. You’re quick to glance at the time, seeing it was almost two minutes past your professors office hours. 

You pray to Satan's right ass cheek that your professor is still here. 

Your professor passes you a quick glance, before singing, “Office hours ended two minutes ago.” He continues collecting the papers on his small desk and putting them in his bag. “But, I’ll humor you since I know you’re not the physical type.” 

You’re aware of how hard you’re breathing from running, the words come out jagged as you drop your bag to the floor, “T–Touche..” You move to his desk, picking up a few papers and handing it to him, although it’s in your better interest. You lean your body on the desk. 

“So…” He draws, blue eyes flickering from his desk to your face, “What did you need help with?” There's a hint of playfulness behind his voice, but it’s equally as mocking. 

Ugh, you hate Professor Gojo. Okay… that’s a lie, he’s really nice to look at, but that’s all. “I’m sure you got my many emails and noticed my empty seat, but I couldn’t be here for a solid week.” You pass him a meek smile.

“Why were you out?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. You’ve always liked that about Gojo, how animated he is. It adds an interesting draw to his lectures. Seeing his hands flail dramatically around to emphasize any topic he was teaching. 

You look to the side, instantly avoiding eye contact, your heart tugging at the thought. “Uhm… F-Family emergency..” You wave your hand, as if the topic was a fly you were trying to rid, “I was just wondering, what I missed? We do anything important?”

Professor Gojo places his hands on his lips, looking at the roof in thought. “Hm, I don’t think you missed too much.” He grabs his black sunglasses and pushes his hair back with them. “Just a month-long project that takes up thirty percent of your grade.” 

Your eyes widen, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach while your jaw falls slack. “You’re joking.” You take a step back, it feels like you’re going to faint. “Oh my god. Please don’t say that.” Why didn’t Nobara tell you anything about this?!

Professor Gojo smiles, “Not lying, unfortunately.” He flips his sunglasses to fit comfortably on the bridge of his nose, “Your grade is totally tanked.” He tilts his head to the side, white silky strands falling with him. “Unless you can make up a week of lost time in a month.” He thinks, “It’s the thirteenth, so, it might be possible.”

A week worth of work, that doesn’t even include your other classes. Work you also need to catch up on. You quickly try to calculate the workload for the other classes, but immediately feel worse when you do. You’re sitting around twenty hours, maybe even twenty five hours of work. 

It’s manageable, you’ve done it before your freshman year when something similar happened, it may be the reason why your life ends early, but definitely doable. Also something you definitely don’t want to do either.

For a brief second, you're tempted to pull down your shirt and ask him, ‘Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?’ Like those weird pornos or fanfics you and Nobara view to pass time, but you immediately think against it. 

One, that isn’t going to work. This isn’t a fanfic. 

Two, you’re pretty sure Gojo is gay, and married. 

Although, if you were to tell Gojo that last one, you’re sure he would be offended. Yet, immediately follow it up with pictures of his gay partner. Why do you think that? You’re pretty sure you’ve seen it happen before. Like, seventy-six percent sure. 

So, you cringe and ask, not seductively at all, “Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?” You’re sure Gojo is aware of your shiny GPA, something which many of your college professors attempt at tainting, but can’t with how determined you are to keep up your grades. 

Gojo looks at the roof again, thinking for a moment. “I can assign you a different project, or I can just assign the original project to you.” He looks at his desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through the papers, “Which do you want to do?” 

“Is this a final?” Your question is a bit blunt, but Gojo picks up it’s purely fear talking. 

“This is the only thing I’m grading this before your final. Meaning, it’s due…” Gojo leans forward, looking at the calendar on his desk. “The eighth of December. And don’t worry, it’s a project just going in as an assessment grade.” 

That’s right, finals are right around the corner, on the eleventh of December. Meaning, if you procrastinate on this project, or somehow fall behind, you’re sitting–at most–a weekend of studying for your finals. 

God, this makes everything so much more stressful for you. 

He wiggles his shoulders, “I wanted to give my students a break to study.” He cups his face, “Aren’t I an amazing person?” 

No. Your eye twitches, “Yeah, such an amazing person.” You sigh, moving away from his desk and grabbing a chair. “What was the assignment?” You prop it right next to his chair, grabbing the staple of paper and skimming through the stipulations of the project. 

“You’re popular, right?”

No one is popular in college, people just won’t shut up. “Define popular.” You grimace. 

Gojo doesn't miss a beat when saying, “You have many friends, right?” 

You don’t miss a beat when saying, “Define many?” 

Gojo gives you an indescribable look, “What do you mean describe many? What else would that mean?” 

You look to the side, “Well, if I came to lecture and ate five cheeseburgers, you’d be like, wow, that’s a lot of food. But, if I told you I only had five friends, you’d be like, wow, that’s not many friends.” You reason. 

Gojo doesn’t look disappointed, but he’s not necessarily proud either. “Well, you.. don’t, right?” He passes you an empathetic look. 

“Of course not.” Gojo sighs in relief, “I only have two.” Gojo ignores your remark and snatches the paper from you, ignoring your playful grin. He’s quick to explain the project, but with each stipulation you feel your stomach tying itself into knots. 

Partner work? 

Mental Evaluation? 

A project where you pick a student to physically and mentally evaluate their day to day life for a week. Learning about their eating habits, working habits, study habits, and personal life. Then, write an essay about your studies and your personal evaluation on their health, life, and personal character. Gojo assured you that this paper should be told to the participant, however does not have to be shared with them, and will not be shared with anyone other than himself. 

The project seems evasive… you wonder if it’s even allowed. Which seems right up Gojo’s alley. He was always in people’s business. But, a grade is a grade, and you're not going to complain. He’s one to assign something much harder to teach you a lesson about complaining.  

Gojo grabs a pen and writes something down in your packet, “I’m already aware you want to become a physical therapist, so I’ll put that down as the hands on part of your project.” He doodles a small version of him worshiping the rubric, “However, since a handful of students already chose to do medical physical therapy, I’ll have you do sports physical therapy.” 

You feel your stomach turn again. Sports? You haven’t played a sport, more or less exercised, since your highschool days. Even then, you weren’t in a physically demanding sport such as volleyball or soccer, you did marching band. 

Which you could argue was extremely physically demanding, but you regress. 

Gojo adds your name to a shared spreadsheet, adding your name to the sport physical therapy colom. A small shiver of relief soars over your body when you see the name Maki. Thank god. At least you know someone. You’re pretty sure you have her number, too. 

Gojo looks at you again, resting on the palm of his hand. “It doesn't change much. Instead of choosing a random student, now you have to choose a student athlete for your project to be based off of. It’s simple, and shouldn't take more than a few weeks. For you at least.”

It’s nice for Gojo to have faith in you, but you don’t have it in yourself. “Thanks.” You take the paper from him, again looking through the packet again. It seems simple on paper, the most difficult part seems to be finding someone willing to be the participant, but you’re sure you can manage.

Hopefully. 

Gojo waves you off, “I’ll see you in class.” 

You’re already off, grabbing your bag and shoving your papers into it. Off in a rush to the next place demanding your attention. Which feels like overwhelmingly everything this past week. 

—

You smile, your hands signing, “That’s cool, you are really good at drawing.” You use a pink crayon to continue your drawing, a simple picture of the young girl sitting across from you. She’s in elementary school and incredibly shy, often choosing to stay by your side when it’s playtime. You don’t mind.

She smiles at you, grabbing her sparkly notebook and writing a quick, “Thanks.” Before quickly pushing it away and continuing to color the sun an interesting shade of purple. You take a small mental note, the sun should be purple, it’s pretty. 

You continue to braid her long hair, being careful not to tug too hard and accidentally mess up her artwork. You use a hair tie with a pink bow to tie it off, making sure all the strands are secure before pulling two small strands to frame her face. 

You move to the left of her, telling her, “Now we are matching.” She awkwardly giggles at that. 

“Where’s the president?” 

Your head whips around, looking for whoever called you. You immediately know from the way they’re addressing you, it’s a parent. You place a hand on the girl's back, standing up and making your way to the impatient parent. 

You pass her a kind smile, “Can I help you?” 

“I’m here for my child.” She seethes at you, her eyes moving up and down your frame, “Is that even appropriate for working with children? Do they pay you to dance on a pole and dress like a–” 

“I’m not getting paid.” You tell her, holding your hands behind your back, “I’m the president of the ASL club here, we teach people about ASL and the language, we also volunteer here when the School of Deaf Children have a small field trip to our school.” You smile brighter, “I don’t get paid to do anything.” You reiterate.

She gives you a look between disgust and jealousy, which you can’t blame her. Not everyone can be intelligent and as beautiful as you. “What’s your child’s name? I can grab them for you.” You call for a member of the club, telling them to bring a clipboard with the sign out sheet. 

When they do, you give the items to the mother and search for her son. You click your foot on the floor three times, the vibrations sending a silent call for the boy. He turns his head and looks at you, watching as you point behind you at his mother. He sighs and gathers his things. 

You laugh and move back to the mother, taking the clipboard and skimming over the information she added. You ignore how she misspelled his name, actually, that’s a lie, you erased it and fixed her mistake. You do ignore the nasty glare she gives you. 

“He always enjoys being here with us,” You watch as the little boy tugs his things to you, feet dragging on the floor dramatically. You place a hand on his head, “I’ll see you on the next field trip.” 

She scowls at you, but softens her gaze on her child, asking him about his day. There’s a genuine smile on her face while she talks to her child, so you don’t let her words get to you. 

“Don’t know how you do it.” Her voice is sharp, pulling you to look at her. “Especially after meeting with Gojo, you’re a trooper.” There’s a hint of playfulness, although you can barely pick up on it due to her RBF. 

You laugh dryly, “Oh, I–I don’t know, I’m just…” 

“Your flask is sticking out of your pocket.” Maki points at your torso, her face as emotionless as ever. 

Your eyes widen with fear, looking down at your torso only to notice you don’t have pockets. You pass her a hard glare, “Ha ha. Very funny.” You lean your weight on one of your legs, “I would be dead if found with something like that, especially here.” You gesture to the children behind you. 

Maki laughs, “So..” She starts, “I’m sure you’ve finally gotten the project.” 

You groan, looking back at the club working with the kids. “Ugh, yeah.” You roll your eyes, “I don’t know what’s worse, that fact it’s thirty percent of my grade, or I have to humiliate myself to a random athlete to pass it.” You sigh.

Maki’s eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, you’re also doing athletes? I thought you would be in “physical therapy” where you can just choose random friends.” She tilts her head, “Isn’t that what you’re kinda known for?” 

You mush your eyebrows together, “Wait, what do you mean?... Known for?” You pause, “Wait, don’t tell me that how people know me?..” 

Maki laughs, before mockingly saying, “Oh, wait? Is that the girl who wants to become a physical therapist? You think she has the answers?” She crosses her hands over her chest, “Something someone has said to me while doing work.” 

You pout, “Why can’t I be known for how cute I dress, or something?” Why couldn't you be known as that mysterious hot girl in lecture? “Whatever, I don’t care…” You do care, you care a lot. “But, no yeah, Gojo said there wasn’t any room, so he put me in the physical therapy for athletes slot.” 

Maki cringes, “Rough. But I wouldn’t worry, it’s just a few people in our class.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You know what’s rougher? Actually finding the athlete, luckily my little brother is one so I got a free pass.” She laughs, cupping her mouth, “And I don’t have to embarrass myself following a random boy like a puppy.”

You feel your eyes widen, “Shit, we really have to follow them around?” You sigh, “I don’t even know any athletes, I don’t even know where to start…” You look at one of the kids running around, making sure to keep an eye on them in case they trip. “I feel like I’m going to embarrass myself by asking a random one to help me.” 

“I think Gojo is plotting.” Maki says, “He’s bored and wants something exciting to happen, so he decided to make this stupid project where we’re forced to be close to someone twenty-four-seven.”

You laugh, a decently sized crowd passing behind you and Maki. “Sounds like Gojo.” You cup your mouth, as if anyone were interested in your conversation and whisper, “I heard he assigned a boy and a girl together back when he first started teaching and now they’re married working on campus.” 

“Oh yeah, have the girl’s lecture class.” Maki looks at the sky, “Gojo fiends for drama, but we all know this.” She turns over her shoulder, wondering about the loud and obnoxious conversation behind her, only to notice the large crowd of boys. She softly groans in annoyance. 

You quickly eye them alongside her. 

“Football boys,” She mutters, clearly agitated. “Hate them all, so glad my brother isn’t one of them.” 

“Should I ask one of them to do my project?” You tilt your head, watching as they slowly move away from you, their loud chatter getting more distant. “Maybe if I pull down my shirt enough someone will say yes.” 

Maki scoffs a laugh, “Yeah. That could definitely work.” She looks back at the group, her happy expression falling for a moment, “Just don’t get the pink haired one. He’s a dick.”

Your eyes snap back to the group, you didn’t even notice a pink haired guy, “What, why?” You don’t recognize him, which means you don’t have any classes with him. 

“Some asshole.” Maki scowls, turning back to look at you. If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “He’s a football player who doesn’t know shit about the real world, got everything handed to him while growing up.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about it in class.” She shakes her head, “You should hear him, so full of himself, and won’t shut the fuck up.” She pivots a foot behind the other, “He’s rude, too. The only people he’s somewhat nice to, are his professors.”

You laugh, “That’s how it is sometimes, Maki.” You look back at him, he’s tall and built, “Besides…” You smile at Maki’s disgusted face, knowing what you’re going to say. “If he’s hot, he could do whatever he wants for me and I’d thank him.” 

“You’re hanging around Nobara too much.” Maki turns on her heel, “Whatever, if you choose him as a partner and fail, I’ll be the first one to tell you..” She smiles over her shoulder, “I told you so.” 

You’re not going to, but you say, “I doubt it.” You turn back to the kids, wanting to put your full attention on them again, but pause. Your eyes travel to look back at the man, skimming over his body again. 

Maybe you can die on this hill, but assholes are hot. 

Then again, you don’t know any assholes in your life, so you can totally be delusional and be reading too many fanfics for your own good. But, Nobara does, and she loves her asshole, you think. So, they can’t be that bad, especially if they look that good. 

Whatever. You have more important things to obsess about. 

—

You’re about to enter your room, when the door swings open, slamming into your face. You whimper, stumbling backwards into the wall behind you. Both your hands cupping your face in pain, your cute bag falling to the floor. 

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.” A pair of hands make their way to your shoulders, “I didn’t think anyone would–holy shit, Nobara!” The person shouts, “I accidentally killed someone with the door!” Their voice is boyish, but in some weird way that is what makes it charming. 

Someone else rounds the corner, your guess is that it’s Nobara. “You killed her?” She pushes the boy away from you, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as she crams you in her neck, “Poor thing’s had a rough day, and this is what you welcome her home to?!”

“I’m so sorry!” The boy responds, he sounds very ashamed. 

“Keep it down, it’s three, everyone’s trying to nap right now.” Another boyish voice perks up, he sounds more monotone than the first one. As if he also had woken from a nap, “Try bringing the body inside before panicking.” 

“Good idea, Megumi.” You feel a pair of hands grab your waist and hoist you up, throwing you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You don’t know if you should be offended, or flattered. “We’ll check for a pulse when we’re inside.” 

Nobara's voice pops up again, “Wait! Be careful of her skirt! You’re going to flash people!” She scolds, and you pray to everything that is almighty that there isn’t anyone in the dorm hall. “Megumi, you grab her bag!” 

There’s no way this is happening. You move one of your hands to press on the fabric of your skirt, pressing it against the high of your thighs. “I got it.” You tell her while the man carries you into the room, Nobara shutting the door behind the two of you. 

You take this time to finally look at the other man in your room, not the one carrying you, just to specify. The man has jet black hair, part of you wonders if it’s dyed, and pale skin. His eyes look a bit lifeless, but you can’t blame him, it is college after all. If you can remember correctly, the man holding you like a potato-sack called him Megumi.

You’re dropped on your bed, your hair fluttering around your head. For a moment, you feel like time has stopped, the boy in front of you smiling widely. You want to laugh at the irony, a part of you thinks, what a small world? Then, you remember you attend a college, and the only people who walk around at that college are the students who attend that college. 

Wow, who would’ve thought, right?

So, the first thing that leaves your lips is, “I like your hair.” To give yourself some credit, it’s what you found the most interesting part of his backside.

The boy tilts his head, his hand moving to run it through his pink tufts, “Thanks.” He leans on the bed next to you, he’s still looking at you as he says, “I like you.” He smiles again, grabbing one of Nobara’s pillows, “You’re light, by the way.” 

Flattered. That, or he’s just freakishly strong, which seems more plausible. Still, his words strike a place in your chest, either that or you really need to talk to more people. You turn to Nobara, “I like him, why haven’t you invited him to our dorm before?” 

Nobara gives you a look, and that answers your question. She juts her thumb at the boy sitting next to you, “Yuuji’s been the one taking your stuff to my car.” She cocks her head at the other boy in the room, he’s enamored by something on his phone. “Megumi’s been actually packing your things.” She winks, “He ended up only using like three–four boxes with his packing skills.”

Your face lights up, “Really? That’s awesome!” That means you can return the other six you bought from Home Depot for way more than you should’ve. “Thanks, you just saved me like twenty bucks.” 

Megumi gives you a thumbs up, before looking back at his phone. Now that you’re really looking at him, he looks really familiar, you just can’t put your finger on it. You could swear you’ve seen that RBF somewhere before…

Nobara furrows her eyebrows, marching over to Megumi and grabbing his face, “Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She puts her hand on the back of his head, forcing him into a subtle bow. “When I introduce you to someone, actually look at them, jerk!” 

Megumi seems to pout almost, giving into Nobara’s demands and bowing, giving you a half-hearted, “I’m Megumi Fushiguro, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Even when Nobara removes her hand, he stays in that position. 

You find it a bit cute. 

“Wait, we’re saying our full name?” Yuuji tilts his head so he’s practically nose to nose with your face, “I’m Yuuji Itadori, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He looks back at Nobara, “She doesn’t shut up about you.” 

A pillow hits him directly in the face, and Yuuji dramatically falls with it. Acting if he had gotten shot with a gun. Nobara points her nose up, “What you get for running your mouth, I-ta-dor-i.” She says his name with so much conviction, you were almost offended by it. 

Yuuji lays on the bed, his side touching the small of your back, “When will my suffering end, I slave away putting heavy boxes in your car, only for you to stab me in the back like this.” Yuuji grabs the back of your shirt, “You would never do this to me, right?” He sniffles, his hands crawling to hold your torso in a hug. “You would always have my back, right?!”

You snicker, one of your hands moving to cup both of his. You give him a somber look, shaking your head, “No. I would never do this to you, Yuuji.” You hold his hands tighter, “Absolutely never.” You whisper.

Yuuji blinks a few times, letting his head fall on the bed with a soft thud. “The light?... I–I see the light, I don’t want to–I don’t want to go.” 

You stifle a laugh, turning your body to face him, “No! Don’t leave me!” You throw yourself over Yuuji, “I can’t do this without you!” You have no clue what “this,” even is. “I can’t lose you, too!” You’ve never lost anyone before, well.. that’s if you don’t count the plushly you lost at the mall one time.

Yuuji falls slack against the bed, sticking his tongue out and mumbling, the most realistic death sound of, “Bleh!” You finally burst out in laughter, pulling away from Yuuji to clutch onto your stomach. 

Yuuji quickly props his head up on his hand, “Anyway, I’ve been dying. When are we going out to eat, Nobara?” He passes Nobara a careless smile, as if he hadn’t put on the most cringeworthy act with you as his co-actor. 

Nobara gives him an indescribable look, one that borderlines anger and disbelief. 

Megumi blinks a few times, “Well, at least they get along just fine.” He gives the two of you a small applause. Which the two of you deeply appreciate.

Nobara blinks alongside him, whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talk this much when she’s with me.” She doesn’t know to be offended, or weirdly proud that you’re finally talking to people. Albeit, she would’ve preferred if you became more social outside the comfort of your bedroom, but hey, baby steps. 

You turn over your shoulder, peering at Yuuji again. “I can order some pizza, and when me and Nobara go to my new apartment, you can pick it up and bring it over.” You grab a piece of your hair from his back, you’re guessing it came off when he carried you. 

Yuuji blinks at you with a bit of sparkle in his eyes, “I think you’re my new favorite person.” 

“Are we friends now?” 

“Best friends.” Yuuji clarifies with full seriousness. 

You loudly laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth as you turn away from Yuuji. “Oh my god, he’s so fun.” You let yourself fall on his back, laying down while looking at the ceiling. 

You feel your body collapse for a moment, the aching and stress from the day crashing down on you. Sure, there’s a human below you, but you could be on a bed of pins and still find some form of relief by laying down. 

Like Megumi said earlier; It’s three, everyone is taking a nap right now. That should be you right now, sleeping on your uncomfortable-comfortable college assigned bed alongside your collection of stuffed animals you won from an arcade, and the dozens of blankets you bought from Target with the mindset of: One more couldn’t hurt. 

“If you want, I can move?” Yuuji asks. 

“No.” You tap his back a few times, as if you were a Dad patting a massive dog. “I’m already comfy. I wanna’ take a nap.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, and in the moment it feels like heaven. You really need a nap. 

Yuuji nods with conviction, “Okay, I won’t move.” He quite literally freezes, you’re sure he’s not even breathing from how still he is. 

Your sentence breaks in cracks of laughter as you say, “You can breathe, babe.”

Yuuji clearly lets out a long sigh. You laugh again. 

You want to lay like this forever, but you have an apartment waiting for your arrival. Besides, you’re going to feel even better when you’re laying down in your new bed in your new room. Suddenly, you’re bubbling with energy. 

You collect yourself before pushing yourself off the bed, reaching for your bag, “Here, I’ll go check I have everything in your car and order the pizza.” You turn to Yuuji, “I can tell you when to pick up.”

Yuuji nods, giving you a thumbs up. 

Nobara follows after you, grabbing her keys. Yet, before she leaves the room, she points at both of the boys and says, “Be good.” Then, shuts the door behind her with a smile. “Now, let’s hope to come back to a room with two living men.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Have they tried to kill each other before…?”

Nobara looks to the side thinking, “They have. A good handful of times, actually.” She laughs, thinking about the two boy’s bickering at times, “Yuuji can be something else, and Megumi needs his time alone to function. Sometimes, it’s like trying to make peace between a dog and a cat.”

“Impossible?” You ask with a smile.

“Exactly.” 

You give a humorous laugh, “Is Yuuji the dog?” 

“A big dog.” 

You laugh again, but your conversation with Maki pops into your head again. This time, you voice your thoughts, “I like Yuuji, he’s fun. Cute, too.” Nobara shivers, as if the thought of Yuuji being cute physically revolted her. “But, Maki said she doesn’t like him.” 

Nobara thinks for a moment, “Maki’s the junior in our class right?” You nod in confirmation, Nobara stays silent for a moment, still thinking. “Weird. I didn’t know she knew Yuuji. To be honest, I thought she was the type of person to hate underclassmen.” 

You can’t disagree with her, “Huh. She really does give that vibe?”

“We all have our personal vendettas.” Nobara shrugs, looking at the sky. It’s starting to get dark, the sky blending into hot colors. “I know Megumi doesn’t like Yuuji, but he won’t say that out loud, so who knows?” 

“That can’t be true.” You shake your head, “They look like they get along.”

“They should, or that means freshman year had to be hell for them…” Nobara presses her lips together, “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know if he likes me…” She shrugs again, a cheeky smile building on her lips “But everyone loves me, so I doubt that.” 

“Of course, who wouldn’t love you.” You internally roll your eyes, “No, but seriously. Yuuji seems kind of cool. I just don’t understand why she would say that.” You smile to yourself, “He’s strong, has nice hair, is nice to look at, and he’s really nice. I just don’t understand why she would call him an asshole.” 

“Woah, ew. Don’t say that about my brother, that makes me want to barf.” Nobara pretends to gag, grabbing onto her stomach. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, “You guys are related?!”

“No.” She snickers to herself. 

When the two of you reach the parking lot, she reaches for her keys and unlocks her car from the short distance. Popping open the trunk with her keys, and the only thing you can see is the organized boxes filling her car to the brim. 

You quickly check over all the boxes. Eyeing over everything packed, just to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Damn, you were right about Fusiguro, these boxes are packed.” A part of you wants to pay him, but you by no means have the money. You almost didn’t have the money to pay for the boxes. 

You sit on the ledge of the trunk, picking your phone from your bag. “I swear, I’m going to get the greasiest, cheesiest, diabeaty causing pizza ever for you guys.” You turn on your phone and immediately notice the text message and missed call from your new roommate. 

Nobara cups her face, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Awh! Babe, you didn’t have to, that’s so romantic.” She wiggles her shoulders like a love-sick teenager.

You unlock your phone, checking the message. “You know I take care of my babygir—“ You blink a few times, your words dying. A horrible pit in your stomach twisting and turning uncontrollably, practically eating you alive. Your heart is dropping uncomfortably. 

Nobara notices your sudden mood change, and is quick to voice on it. “Hey, are you okay?” She looks at your hands, trying to see what could upset you. “If you want I can buy the pizza?…” 

You quickly turn off your phone, placing it face down on your lap and letting out a long sigh. You silent for a moment, your hands cupping your face as you whisper, “Shit.” You feel like crying, but you also feel like screaming in rage. 

“Wait, what happened?” 

“My—“ You groan, clearly annoyed, “Fuck, my roommate just said the room isn’t mine anymore.” You lean back on the boxes, resting your weight on it. You’re trying to form the words, but there’s so much going on in your head you don’t think you’re making sense. “She said I can’t come anymore.” 

Nobara furrows your eyebrows, “Wait, what?” She tilts her head to the sides, “What do you mean you can come anymore?”

For some reason, her question pisses you off, and you grab your phone. “Here.” Your voice is stern, clearly annoyed, “Read.” You flip the screen to her, showing the long paragraph you received from your roomma– ex-roommate. 

Nobara eyes skim over the screen, quickly trying to take in all the information before looking at you with an empathetic face. “Oh my–is this even allowed? Don’t you have to sign a contract to move in with them?” She sits down next to you, “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break the binding if you already signed the papers.” 

You feel a bit stupid about your answers, and for some odd reason that pisses you off. “I–” You sigh, leaning your head back on the boxes. “I didn’t sign anything just yet, she just said I could move in today, and we’ll fill out the papers when I’m there.”

Nobara blinks a few times, “Oh.” Is all she says. She doesn’t know exactly what to tell you, but she knows enough not to tell you how wrong you are. You’re clearly upset as it is, and she doesn’t want to add fuel to that fire. You’re already stressed as it is, so she says, “Uhm, do you want me to help you unpack?...” 

You shake your head, “No.” You can’t unpack, Nobara is quite literally having a new roommate move in within this week. “Okay, no, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out.” You have a small idea of what you can do in the meantime. 

“Figure this out?” Nobara gives you a look, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Babe, that’s something you say when you realize you have a test next class, not when you don’t have a place to stay.”

You sigh deeply, “I know.” Still, you’re trying to figure out what you can do in this situation. Your parents are out of the picture, not literally, they’re just too far, and you can’t stay with Nobara. You can try and move into a hotel, and pray your parents are willing to send you a bit more cash while you desperately try to find a new place to live. 

You nod to yourself, coming to a decision. “Okay, I think I’m just going to stay at a hotel in the meantime.” You open the safari app, and quickly search for hotels in your area. 

Nobara pulls you to your feet, shutting the trunk closed and locking her car again. “Okay, well my new roommate doesn’t come until Wednesday, so you're free to stay the night until she comes. Technically it’s still your room.” She grabs your bag, tugging you along with her as you desperately search for a place to stay. 

—

“The pizza says it’s going to be ready at five.” You think that’s a suspiciously long time for a pizza to get ready, but don’t question it too much. It just gives you more time to find a place to stay. “You can pick it up and bring it here if you want, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji blinks at you, “Are we no longer allowed at your apartment?” He sounds hurt in a way, but you’re a bit too embarrassed to tell him the truth of the situation. 

You thickly swallow, “Uh, well…” 

“Roommate kicked her off the lease.” Nobara says without batting an eye, “I told her to contact a lawyer, but we all know we’re too broke for that. Unless someone wants to pitch in some money.” She looks at you and passes a discreet wink. 

You deeply appreciate her and her ability to read your thoughts.

Megumi shakes his head, “I can call my Da–” He pauses, clearing his throat, “I can call Gojo and ask for some money.” He looks away, averting his attention at a wall. It could be the bad lighting, but it looks as if his ears are red. 

You have to reign in what Megumi just said, but you aren’t given the time when Nobara jumps into the conversation. “No. She doesn’t like Gojo, can’t imagine how she’d feel if she borrowed money from him.” 

Megumi looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t like Gojo?”

“Uh…” You give him an awkward smile, scratching your cheek lightly. “Not really…?”

Megumi nods, his lips pulling into a subtle upside down smile. It looks almost approving, “Me neither.” You didn't know you could end up liking someone with just a simple phrase, but here we are. 

Yuuji pulls on your sleeve, drawing your attention back to him. “So, what are you going to do?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, as if he were in the same boat as you.  

You pass him a somber smile. “I don’t know, I think I’m just going to crash at some random hotel in the meantime.” You shrug, trying to brush off the topic, but the pit in your stomach doesn’t go away. “Hope for the best, you know?” 

Yuuji practically lights up at that news, he quickly grabs your hands and tugs you into him. “Wait! Does that mean you’re homeless now?!” He seems excited about that, and you wonder if Maki was right about him being an asshole. 

You awkwardly laugh, your smiling faltering, “Uhm, yeah?…” You blink a few times, looking at your hands, then looking back at his face. You quickly pass Megumi and Nobara a worried face, as if you’re trying to say, please help me.

“Do you want to live with me?!” 

No. 

Your lips part, a small noise escaping your throat, but no real words really leaving. Yuuji is pretty fun to be around, but you don’t think moving in with someone you just met is a good idea. Besides, what if the hotel is a better option than the random house he’s offering you to live in. You don’t know how tidy… or dirty his house is, and you can’t just go to his house, scope out the area and be like, ‘Actually, I think I’m going to pass.’ 

It’s rude and puts you in a really awkward situation, a situation you really don’t want to put yourself in. Then again, you really don’t have the money to stay in a hotel, anything you could possibly have in your bank account will be drained, quickly. 

You don’t have the money, or the mindset to drain your bank account. In fact, if the number ‘ZERO’ hits your bank account, your life would’ve been long done awhile ago. There’s no way you’re living to see your personal downfall. 

You press your lips together in thought, “Uh?..” You look at Nobara, and she doesn’t seem to know what to say either. “Are you okay with that?—How much are you going to be charging me?” You have to ask the real question, then you can worry about being a good person and asking about Yuuji’s feelings. 

“Hm?” He blinks a few times, then quickly looks at Megumi, “I didn’t charge my ex when she lived with me. How much do you normally charge your roommates?” It seems like a genuine question, and Maki barks at the back of your head, ‘I told you!’

You softly pull your hands away from Yuuji, blinking at him in confusion. “Wait, do you not pay for your apartment?” You tilt your head at him, blinking in confusion. 

“I don’t.” He places his hand on the back of his head, looking at Megumi with something you can’t quite decipher. “My–” He pauses, making a face at Megumi, “My roommate does.” His eyes perk at that, almost as if it were a revelation. “That’s right, I have a roommate.” 

“So, I’ll be living with two guys?” Your eyes bounce back from Yuuji and Megumi, you can’t say excitement is what you’re feeling right now. No, it’s more desperation and dejection. 

“Mhm!” He pulls you close to his side, and you’re now starting to realize how touchy Yuuji is, but you don’t really mind. “It won’t be that bad, you’ll have your own room and there’s a kitchen.” He looks around the small dorm, “Which I think is already much better than the dorms…” 

You don’t… know. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you, and I don’t know if I’m going to have enough money..” 

Yuuji shakes his head, “You can just stay for a month or two, just until you can find your own place.” He places his head on your shoulder, giving you some of the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “And I won’t even charge you.”

“Deal.” Not even a second thought. 

A smile splits your face, excitement blooming in your chest. A free place to live, your own room, and a kitchen? Maybe you could be in danger by living with two men you just met today, but it’s only for a month or two. Free housing is free housing. 

Yuuji jumps up, clearly happy by the thought of living with you. “Hooray! Let’s go!” Yuuji grabs your hand again, pulling you harshly behind him. “I’ll help you unpack and everything.” 

You feel a small blush dust your cheeks, definitely a big puppy. It’s really cute. 

—

Yuuji’s house is so nice. 

Your eyes are sparkling at the sight, the living room, the kitchen, your bathroom, and your bedroom. Everything is decorated so nicely and smells like heaven, as if someone has just cleaned the room. 

You turn to Yuuji, hands holding each other, “Oh my gosh, your place is amazing! This is so nice!” You move to the couch, sitting down on it, practically melting into the seats. “This is heaven Yuuji, absolute heaven.” 

Yuuji wobbles over to you, flopping over your thighs and stretching over the couch. He’s a bit sweaty from moving all your boxes to your room, and clearly exhausted, but you don’t at all mind. You still move your hands to his head and run your fingers through his pink tufts. 

“You did such a good job, Yuuji!” You practically beaming in your seat, smiling with a bit too much enthusiasm. ”You installed that lock on my door too, right?” You push his hair out of his face when he twists his head to try and look at you. 

Yuuji nods tiredly, moaning out an exhausted, “Mhm.” 

“Awh! Thank you so much, that means so much to me!” You look to the side, watching as Nobara appears from the hall and passes you a thumbs up. A small confirmation of Yuuji’s words. “If you want, you can go grab the pizza now, I’m pretty sure it’ll be ready by now.” 

Yuuji springs out of your lap, energy regained at the thought of food. “Pizza!” He is quick to grab Nobara, pulling her out the door and singing, “Pizza, pizza, pizza, chow-down!” You think it’s adorable. 

Megumi walks out of the hall, looking at Yuuji, then looking back at you. He’s silent for a moment, before softly asking, “Do you want me to stay?” 

You’re a bit shocked by his question, “Uhm..?” To be completely honest with yourself, it would be nice to have the house to yourself for a moment. That way you can try and get a hold of the layout without the judging eyes of your new friends. You’ve also been dying to take a shower in a room without anyone else showering. So, you shake your head politely, “No thank you, it’s okay. I need a moment to myself.” 

Megumi furrows his eyebrows ever so slightly, tilting his head, “Are you sure?” He looks at the hallway, then back to you, “I can stay, it won’t bother me.” He shrugs, but his voice has a hint of care to it, as if he’s trying to put his words in the most friendly way possible. 

You shake your head again, “It’s okay, I’m just going to shower.” Your eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, actually, I have a question.” You push yourself off the couch, moving to stand at the entrance of the hallway. Megumi moves after you. “Which room is which.”

Megumi points at the closet door on the right, “That’s your restroom.” He points at the door at the end of the hallway to the left, “Across from your restroom is your room.” He looks back at you, nodding to see if you understood the information. 

You flash him a smile and nod back, “Perfect, thanks for showing me.” 

Megumi nods, turning on his heel and waving you off. Nobara at the door frame, waiting for him to catch up. She cups her mouth, “We’ll be back in a few, get unpacked in the meantime.” She blows you a kiss and closes the door behind her. 

You roll your eyes and move to your room, pushing open the door and really observing the place. If you can recall correctly, this room once belonged to Yuuji’s ex-girlfriend, which is a bit obvious. There’s a hint of a feminine touch to the furniture and leftover decorations. The window is one of the biggest indicators to such, the curtains being a bit flowy and soft.

The bed is another big indicator. The mattress has been stripped of anything that seems comforting, but the bed frame holds some form of cute touch. It’s white with silver jewels bedding into the leather, creating a patterned ridge. 

The floor is bare, but you don’t mind, you made sure to tell Nobara to pack your pink fluffy rug. However, it has small specks of nail polish. The drawers match the bed quite well, all being white. The desk–or vanity–is something you don’t understand why it would be left behind. It’s gorgeous. There’s even a mirror strapped to the wall a bit above it, a button in the bottom middle to turn on its LED lights. 

You nod to yourself, not bad. 

Sometimes, life is all about risk, and you clearly struck gold with this leap of faith. A cute room, a nice house, and you don’t have to pay rent yet? Could life get any better? 

You squeal to yourself, moving to your boxes and opening the one with your skin care products, hair cleaning products, face cleaning products, shaving products… Honestly, everything you couldn’t use back in the dorms. You’re about to finally care for your skin, mind, and body. 

You're quick to grab your sleeping garments, but find it a bit hard to hold everything so you grab your towel and throw all your things inside, then grab the corners and pull them up. Making a make-shift sack and throwing it over your shoulder. 

Life can indeed, get better. 

Especially when you can take a shower alone. 

You’re giddy making your way to the bathroom, opening the door and closing it behind you. You’re picking your favorite at home, or headphone only playlist, and blasting it on speaker. Picking out from the many girly shampoo scents and propping them in the shower as you swing your hips to the beat of the music. 

You catch a glimpse of the shampoos already in the shower. They’re a bit… They look exotic to put it simply. A brand you’ve never seen before, in fact, the amount of body care looks a bit larger than your own. You feel a bit embarrassed placing your Bath and Body Works body scrub, but they smell so good. 

Even now, your sore bare body underneath the steaming hot water, you’re no longer embarrassed. Your tense muscles relax underneath the jets of the water. Just enjoying your sweet sweet life living in a real house and not a small dorm. You raise your face to the water, rubbing out your face wash, “Fuck, I needed this.”

You flinch when the sound of louder music plays over your own, your eyes snap to the door. You push your hair out of your face and softly sigh. Looks like your friends are back already, and as much as you want to stay in the warm shower, you’re really hungry.

You turn off the water and reach for your pink towel, wrapping it around your body and placing the rest of your face care products on the counter of the sink. It’s a bit of a shame, music you’re unfamiliar with drowning out your favorite–private–playlist. 

You eye the room again, only to furrow your eyebrows. Wait… You feel a bit of dread enter your body, looking around the room with a bit more conviction. 

Oh no, oh no no no no no…

Where are your clothes?! You could’ve sworn you put them in your makeshift sack with everything else–wait, you internally groan, no you didn’t. You placed everything back on your bed and forgot to put it back in your towel. Whatever, it’s fine you’ll just quickly run to your room and grab some clothes, then join your friends for food. 

You grab your phone and reach for the door, peeling it open and peaking your head out. But, you are a bit disappointed at the lack of pizza filling the air, and laughter. The only thing getting louder is the music.

“Hm.” You blink a few times and stand on the tips of your toes, the cold floor sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine as you step onto cold tiles. Megumi’s words echo in your head, ‘The room across the restroom.’ So, as you walk forward and put your hand on the dorm knob, you feel a bit of panic resonate with you as it doesn't open. 

“Shit, did I lock it?” You cringe at yourself. Oh my god, that’s a horrible way to start off living with Yuuji. Getting locked out of your room, naked. For some reason, that thought makes you shake the door knob with more desperation. 

You tug your hand back when the door knob… jiggles back! Have the door knobs evolved?! 

You flinch when the lights of the room flashes on you, the door slamming open. 

Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping subtly. 

The tall man looks you up and down, his forearm pressing against the frame of the door. His face is one that can only be described as disgust and disdain. In fact, he’s so fucking tall, he is quite literally looking down at you. 

You feel so small. 

And, he’s completely shirtless, yet his arms are decorated in a tattoo that seems to stretch from his arms to his torso, chest, then to his face. The only thing giving him some form of modesty being the gray sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips. You can see his v-line and the veins that lead to his…

You snap your eyes back to his face, feeling your burn up, when your eyebrows furrow. The interesting color of his hair is pulling your attention.

Wait a minute…

You narrow your eyes, taking a step back in shock. Another puddle of water pulling to the ground with each step, the bangs that frame your face sprinkling your shoulders with water droplets. 

No way, no way.

An unsure noise leaves your throat, a mix between a whimper and soft cry. “Uh… Y-Yuuji…?” You tighten your hand around your towel, and that realization hits you like a fucking bus. You’re naked. You’re wearing nothing but a towel in front of Yuuji, and he looks absolutely disgusted by you. 

But…You know it’s not Yuuji, it can’t be. Yuuji is a massive puppy, expressive and vibrant, naturally pulling everyone into his circle. He would never even think to look at someone the way this man is looking at you. He's touchy and a bit oblivious, but that’s part of his charm! The Yuuji in front of you is…?

His hair is a bit different, less saturated and messy. His dark natural roots peeking out from his undercut, and he looks… older. In fact, he even looks older than you. His tattoos stretch from his neck, to his face, sharp and crisp lines. 

His eyebrows are pulled together in a glare, a nasty glare, a small wrinkle forming at the side of his nose in disgust. His head is ever so slightly tilted to the side. 

Your eyebrows twitch together, and you find the situation ironic. In fact, you almost want to laugh. Out of all the nice things God had given you today, he wanted to sprinkle in one more surprise. 

This man looks like a…

The man takes a step forward, the music in his room blasting even louder. He was close, way too close. If he wasn’t scary before, now that you have to crane your neck back to look at him, he’s terrifying. He narrows his red eyes at you, letting out a harsh, “What the fuck do you want.” His voice is raspy and deep, clouding anyone he would talk to. 

You blink at his language and rudeness, shocked by his attitude. You part of your lips, they feel a bit glossy from the water, but…a scoffing laugh leaves your lips. 

He looks like an asshole. He’s an asshole. You cover your mouth with your hand, and turn away. A hot asshole. The hot asshole from earlier today. It really is a small world. However, your humor to the events is short lived. You’re quickly reminded of what situation you're in, naked in front of a hot asshole. 

The furrow in his eyebrows deepens. 

“You look like Yuuji.” It’s a silent whisper, one that receives no reaction to the stranger in front of you. He doesn’t even take a step away from you, he’s still too close for your comfort. 

Oh my god. There are two Yuuji’s. Then, light a light bulb, another realization hits you. Oh my god, I’m going to be living with two Yuuji’s. But, you quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another sound.

“Who’s there?” A voice perks from the music, it sounds feminine, and a bit too scratchy for your liking. In a way, it sounds hoarse, or strained. “Is it your brother, I’ve always wanted to meet your brother!” She squeals excitedly, “Let me see him, please!”

Brother? You mimic your thoughts with words, “B-Brother?” You dumbly ask, desperately trying to connect the dots in your head. Wait, you thought Megumi was the one who lived with Yuuji, that’s why the two of them made eye contact back at your old dorm. 

Did you completely misread the situation? You cup your mouth in shock. Megumi isn’t Yuuji’s roommate, his older brother is. The hot older brother who happens to be the asshole from earlier, and now. 

Oh my god. I’m so stupid. 

A blonde woman comes barreling from within the room to the door frame, she’s wearing nothing but a black shirt too big for her. The moment she lays her eyes on your bare frame, her smile twists into something deeply uncomfortable. 

You swear, you can hear the water droplets from your hair hitting the ground from how quiet the three of you are. This is such an unforgettable situation. You pull your hand away from your mouth, passing the women a small smile and a wave. 

She doesn’t wave back. She looks at the man, but he’s not looking at her, his eyes are trained on you. Caught by the way your chest is glistening from the light of his room and the water from the shower, your neck bare and fresh. How your shoulder rises and falls with each soft breath you take, your hair sticking to your face and shoulders. He can smell the sweet scent of your body wash from here. It smells nice.

You smell nice.

Your eyes are something else, though. They’re practically sparkling from the little light emulated from his room, catching every reflection and giving them life. They’re wide and full of shock, you’re most likely trying to process who he is. That idiot Yuuji most likely didn’t even tell you he had a brother. 

You thickly swallow, your throat bobbing ever so slightly. 

He smirks to himself. You’re not too bad looking. 

“Who is she?” The blonde asks with a bit of force, trying to pull his attention away from you. However, despite her question, and her hands moving to grab his arm, he still isn’t looking at her, he’s quiet, way too quiet for your liking. 

He finally shrugs, discreetly pulling his arm away from her hold. “Don’t know. Who cares.” He finally pulls away from your frame, looking at the woman, “Probably one of my brother’s annoyin’ ass friends.” 

She tilts her head to the side, “Oh.” She lets out a small laugh, but it seems more mocking than anything. “Thank god, I thought it was one of your crazy exes trying to get back with you.” She glares at you, “Such a pathetic attempt to use, too.” 

He takes one final look at you, “Yeah.” He looks at the girl, pushing her to the side as he walks back into his room. “Just like you.” He scoffs to himself, turning over his shoulder and whispering at her, “Crazy bitch.” 

She pouts, turning on her heel so her blonde said flips behind her, “Awh! Don’t say that Suki! You know you love me.” She passes you a final satiated glance, “Here, let me make it up to you. Tell me about your tattoos or something!” 

Sukuna’s quick to respond with a pinched expression, “Shut the fuck up. Stop acting like you're my girlfriend.” Then, she slams the door on your face, and you flinch from the intrusion. 

You cringe a bit, not at all liking how addressed a girl as a ‘bitch.’ If something could make you turn your head in disgust in less then a second, it’s called a girl a bitch. Except when you do it.

You glare at the door, “Bitch.” You think back to the man she addressed as Suki and add, “Asshole.” You look at the door to the right, and make your way there, twisting it and sighing in relief when it opens. 

You laugh at yourself, “Thank god..” The first thing you do isn’t change, but open one of your boxes and grab your stationary. Placing them on the vanity. You're quick to grab a quickly sticky note, scribble your name on it, and slam it on the outside of your door. 

No more accidents, and no more random hot, older brother, asshole man. 

—-

Nobara is peacefully sleeping on the couch, bundling herself in more blankets than one person needs. Her chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic order, you can even hear her softly snoring. The day had been draining, not only for you, but also for her, so you weren’t going to pester her to stay up and watch the crappy horror movie Yuuji picked out.

Megumi is sitting across from her on his phone. His long lashes flutter with each gentle blink he takes. He, unlike everyone in the room, seems a bit more tense. Narrowing his eyes when something unfavorable happens on screen–like a jumpscare–then quickly follows it by doing whatever on his phone. 

You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually really scared of the movie playing, but that’s just a hunch. 

You’re sitting next to Yuuji on the floor, actually–no, Yuuji is laying on you. While you run your hands through his pink tufts, your body is watching the movie playing, but your mind is somewhere else. Not somewhere else, on someone else. 

Yuuji opens his mouth, softly humming, “Ah.” 

You reach over his head, grabbing his pizza slice and lowering it to his mouth, allowing him to take a bite. He does, and you return it to the plate on the coffee table. Grabbing your drink and taking a sip. 

“You have a brother?” 

Your question is so quiet, it doesn’t even disturb the peace. The movie is still playing, Nobara is still sleeping, Megumi is still on his phone, and Yuuji is still laying on your lap. He looks away from the screen, his eyes boring into the bottom of your cup. 

“Yeah.” Yuuji gives you a halfhearted smile, he’s clearly uncomfortable by the topic. “He’s my older brother, I think he’s graduating next year.” He looks at the TV, then back at you, you notice how he’s holding his breath. “Did he…? Did he say something to you?” The question seems unsure. 

You shake your head, “I saw him leave his room when I finished showering.” You pass him a comforting laugh, hand running through his hair. “I thought he was you for a second, until I looked a bit closer.” You wish that was the end of it. 

Yuuji lets out a breath, nodding his head. “Good. He can be…” He sighs, looking back at the TV, “You know what, forget about it. He just sucks, so stay out of his way.” He pulls himself up, “Just stay with me, and you’ll be fine.” 

You think for a moment, wondering if you should ask Yuuji the question bubbling in your head, but ultimately decide to force it out. “Do you… not like your brother?” You ask him, sneaking a blanket from Nobara and wrapping it around your shoulders. Your hair is still a bit damp, wetting the blanket. 

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Does anyone like their siblings?” He leans on the couch, propping his arm up and using his hand to hold his head. “We’re just like everyone else, just a bit more… bleh.” Yuuji sticks out his tongue, and you softly laugh. 

“Gross.” You mutter, wrinkling your nose. “But, I get that. I think you’re the nicer one.” You look to the side, thinking for a moment, “Actually, wait, I think you look the nicest.” 

Yuuji laughs, “Thanks.” 

You look at Megumi, “I thought he was your roommate.” You press your lips together, “I thought I was going to be living with you two. I didn’t think it was going to be you… you know.” 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry?” Yuuji slaps his hand over his mouth, “I totally forgot too—shit, I thought you knew…” He thinks for a moment, remembering how the two of you quite literally met today. “I—I don't know… how though. Shit, that’s so shitty of me.” 

You shake your head, “No, no. It’s okay, I should’ve asked more questions, as a roommate and as a girl. This was kinda’ my own doing for assuming things.” You laugh to yourself, “I also got swept up in the whole free housing thing.”

Yuuji laughs with you, “I would, too. That's why I agreed to move in with my brother, actually.” He rolls his eyes, “A free place to stay, is a free place to stay. Even if I have to deal with an asshole.” 

“I got that vibe from him.” You reach over to his shirt, fixing his collar to fix his neck more comfortably. “But I can’t say that to his brother.” 

Yuuji silently thanks you, before shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I could care less what you say about him. To be honest, I don’t even talk to him anymore.” He shrugs, “My room is too far away from his to really hear if he’s doing anything, too.” He laughs, “He could secretly be a murder, and I wouldn’t know.” 

You giggle, your hands moving to rest on his shoulder. You take this time to lean forward and softly kiss his head, “Thank you for letting me crash with you for a while, I really didn’t want to stay at a shady hotel.” You smile at him when pulling back, “Totally saved my ass.” 

Yuuji shakes his head, waving you off. “Stop. Don't even start. I’d do anything for my new best friend.” He loudly yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “But, I’m getting tired, I think I’m going to crash.” He pushes himself off the floor, searching for the remote and turning off the TV. 

Nobara is quick to get up, one of her eyes still shut as she awkwardly says, “H-Huh, what?...” She frantically looks around, “I’ve been up.” She is quick to crash down into the pillow again, gaining a small laugh from everyone in the room. 

Megumi shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch. “I’ll take her home.” He glances at you, “Go to bed, I know you still have to set your bed up.” 

Sure, you’ve spoken to Yuuji the most this entire day, and spoken to Megumi the least, but he is genuinely your favorite out of the bunch. You pass him a quick smile, but it’s strained and full of exhaustion. “Thanks.”

Megumi just nods over his shoulder, searching for Nobara’s keys. Then, pauses, looking back at you, “Also, just a word for advice, Itadori’s brother…” He starts, “His ex would always complain about him… being really anxious at night, so just wear some headphones or… go to sleep early.”

You giggle, “I’m sure I can handle a bit of music at night.” You point at Nobara, “She used to play the weirdest shit late at night.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t think…” Megumi stops himself, “I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” But, his tone, the unsure expression he’s passing you, you can’t help but think… 

Obnoxious how?

—-

Honestly, the day could’ve been better. Way better, but it could’ve been worse, way worse. Still, you appreciate how the day has ended. Your sheets laid out and covering the mattress, your blankets and stuffies decorating your bed to make you more comfortable in your new surroundings. 

You’ve taken some time to put mostly everything in its respective place. Like the fluffy carpet, and small coffee table in the middle of the room, since you prefer to do your homework sitting on the ground. And the pictures and posters you have of friends, family, shows, and celebrities. 

The room was starting to slowly look more like home. 

You blink a few times, pressing your glasses to the bridge of your nose—something you don’t wear outside the comfort of your room—and focus on the small text in the booklet Gojo had given you. 

You can confidently say you understand what the project is asking of you, but there’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, you don’t even know where to start. You feel overwhelmed. Not only that, but finals are creeping up way too fast for your liking. 

“This is a problem for tomorrow, or… today? Whatever. It’s too late.” You whisper to yourself, shutting the booklet and leaning back on the palms of your hands. Looking at the ceiling with a blank expression. You’re tired–exhausted, it’s past twelve and starting to hit the single digits of the AM. 

You still have to catch up on all your other missing assignments due to your sudden leave. You close your eyes, pushing yourself off the ground and stretching. There only seems to be one solution to your problems. 

You reach for your computer, propping it onto your table and pulling up the show BoJack Horseman, clicking onto the first episode while scrambling around for your backpack. 

Time to pull an all-nighter.

You can still hear the music from Yuuji’s brother's room, it’s a bit quieter, but you still add a bit of volume to your computer, trying to drown out the noise. And, it’s nice for the first hour, maybe even the first hour and a half, your writing progressively getting more fit with each assignment you finish. Your eyes are feeling heavier, and BoJack’s life choices are getting dumber. 

You feel like you can fall asleep sitting up, but you jump at a small bump. Your ears perk up to the sound of… something you can’t quite put your finger on. Actually, the best way you can describe it, is if it were late at night and you stubbed your toe, yet you were desperately trying to stay quiet.

Hm. In your mind, that seems pretty spot on, yet… you’ve heard this particular nose before. It sounds familiar, really familiar. Maybe from a late-night movie, or a sound from a—

“Ah! O-Oh my god, p-please—please.” A pleasurable cry. 

It’s silent again, the sound of BoJack Horseman death to your ears. 

A shiver shoots up your spine, forcing your body to shoot itself up. Your eyes widening while your face begins to burn with embarrassment. A small whimper leaves your throat, another shiver shooting down your body, it feels electrifying. It feels dirty. 

There’s no fucking way. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Today isn’t real. You feel your face flush, ever so slightly turning your head over your shoulder to look at the wall behind you. “It’s probably just a movie..” You tell yourself. “They’re watching a weird movie.”

A gruff voice barks back, “Move your fuckin’ hand and take it.” She cries again, but it’s a bit more muffled compared to her last cry. “Or I’ll move it.” He sounds a bit pained, almost gritted when said, before a small mocking–yet, approving–laugh follows. “Yeah, you can take this dick, can’t you?”

This time, something deep within your blooms in your stomach. A fluttery, almost tingly sensation building deep in you. You feel your finger twitch, blinking at the wall, your freshly decorated bed catching your attention. 

Of course your bed is pressed right against his wall, and of course the walls are paper thin. 

Your ears perk again at the sound of a forced squeal, a scream of, “K-Kuna’.. W-wait, it feels..” But, her sentence is cut off by another moan, this time more deep and tired. What follows, makes your hips twitch. 

“Fucking amazin’? I know.” He groans under his breath, a cocky laugh leaving his mouth, “C’mon, use that dumb cunt of yours to fuck yourself on my cock.” A small bump lands on your wall, much like the sound of a head falling back on it. “Yeah, fuck. Just like that.” 

His words are filthy, and drive you a bit crazy. Your mind is clouding with ideas of… him. Kuna, Suki, that’s what she said, those are the two things she called him. Is that his name, Yuuji’s older brother? Are those her nicknames for him? 

Kuna? 

Suki?  

You hate that, you want to scold yourself over fantasizing over a stranger. You’re not fantasizing, you’re just trying to piece together what could be happening on the other side of the wall. How he looks when flushed, half-lidded and body surging with pleasure as he fucks. The noises he’s producing when spending special attention on his sensitive tip. How filthy words leave his mouth with a cocky smile, no care in the world as he tries to embarrass you–

You gasp. No, you didn’t just think that. You didn’t think about Yuuji’s older brother, a stranger, a asshole, fucking you. That’s impossible, you’re not a fiend, you’re not a pervert, and you're not thinking about how hot he looked standing over you. Looking down at you with a scowl as you suck his cock. 

Your throat bobs, your mouth salivating. The image of his veins, his happy trail, his v-line, leading down to the print in his sweatpants. You bite onto your bottom lip, lightly slightly sucking onto the skin until it’s a bit swollen. 

You mush your thighs together, turning back to the table. Closing your eyes and trying not to think about… no, you’re just trying not to think altogether. Trying to ignore how your body is burning, your panties sticking to your throbbing pussy.

“Get off–” The sentence seems a bit more quiet than before, the whole sentence not translating well to your ears. You’re thankful for that, is what your head is screaming, but your body is desperately itching to hear every dirty word he says. 

“Hands… knees.” His voice sounds strained, but still collected. 

You flinch when something bangs against the wall. It’s thankfully not hitting your wall, but it sounds incredibly close. Wait, is that?... Is he…? Is that the headboard hitting the wall? The bed lurching forward with each of his harsh thrust. 

This time, it’s far too clear for your mind to ignore her quiet sobbing, yet she mumbles small encouragement for Yuuji’s older brother to, “H-hit that.. s-spot.” Babbling profanities you weren’t previously aware of, to scream obnoxiously in your face about how good she feels. 

Then, the banging stops. A more human bump hitting the wall, followed by, “That shit’s getting on my nerves.” 

“Use a pillow, you don’t need to hold it–ah!” 

This time, you don’t hear the headboard of his bed hitting the wall. You only hear the creaking of the mattress hissing uncomfortably under the weight of two people. You wonder what he did exactly to prevent the noise. 

Press his hands above his head board onto the wall, then continue to fuck her senseless. Or, does he only have one hand pressed against the wall, only grabbing onto the top of the headboard and using it to add more strength behind each stroke. Sending the annoying girl deeper into her spiral of pleasure. 

You feel your eyes water ever so slightly… and–you may be perverse, or a dirty girl. But, you don’t care, you really don’t fucking care. Especially not when your pussy is desperate for some harsh attention, a big mean man to fuck you senseless. To spread you open and toy with your sensitive and drooling cunt. 

You… you wish that girl is you. You wish you are her. Crying over a cock that makes you feel so good, you don’t care if anyone is listening. You wouldn’t care if he was forcing you to take it to quick or hard, his hands grabbing your hips and forcing you to fuck his cock with your overstimulated pussy. 

No, stop, I have shit to do. You don’t have the time to be stupid over boys. “Where are my headphones?” You need to do work, you need to have conviction and discipline. The moment you wake up tomorrow, remembering all the things you thought about the previous night, you’re going to jump off a cliff. 

You just need some clarity, some sleep. That’s all it is, you’re exhausted, and the idea of… No, don’t even start. You softly sing the opening tune of BoJack Horseman to yourself. It may be stupid, but it keeps you concentrated on the task at hand.

You need to do homework, you are too far behind to get distracted. Even now, while desperately looking for your headphone–it’s in one of these boxes, it has to be–you’re ignoring the noises from the other room. Did you lose them? Did you really lose them the one time you actually need them? 

Fine. 

You’ll wake up early tomorrow, find your headphones, and finish your assignments. You scramble for your lights, flicking them off and diving into your bed. Your computer is still open, Netflix asking the annoying, ‘Are you still there?’ But, you’re not paying attention. 

Your eyes are shut, a pillow wrapped around your head while you’re slowly growing more annoyed. It’s so obnoxious, vulgar, rude… You don’t even know how to describe the situation Yuuji’s older brother is putting you in. 

It’s dick move. 

Wouldn’t it be common courtesy to try and be quiet. It’s such an awkward situation for you, such a weird situation to be in. It’s infuriating. A part of you wants to loudly knock on the wall and scream at them, but the other part of you wants to give Yuuji’s older brother the benefit of the doubt. 

He’s probably just unaware. 

You’ll tell ‘Kuna–hopefully his name is ‘Kuna, you really don’t know–tomorrow when you run into him. Or, tell him to be a bit more reserved, or ashamed, of what he’s doing, and how hard it is to focus on work when people are obnoxiously fucking in the room right next to you. 

Besides, you genuinely can’t stand the idea of dealing with that every single night while trying to do your work. It sounds like a pain, a hassle that will never let you sleep or study undisturbed. That’s too weird, that’s too annoying. 

But, you know the real reason. 

It’s why you’re desperately rubbing your thighs together. While trying to force yourself to sleep. 

Next Chapter: Ch. 2 - Sexual Tension.

[wasteddmoondust]

the universe || sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader 1.2k words, soulmate au, angst (i tried, really), happy ending, some language from this request! :) a/n: AHH i hope you really like this, i haven't written this much before but i think it was a good challenge!

Sirius feels like he shouldn't have looked. But he stares at the four little paw prints tattooed on your left shoulder blade, identical to the one he has.

But that was the thing with soulmates, wasn't it? One can never control how it happens, they just do. It was already written. He was meant to see this, and he's meant to do something about it.

There's a sinking feeling in his chest. He's not sure if he wants to do something about it.

Sirius doesn't believe in soulmates. At least that's what he wants himself to think.

It's too much commitment, he usually says to himself. Why can't I choose who I want to be with?

I've been following rules my whole life. What does the universe know about me and who I'm meant to be with? For the rest of my life? Who would want to be with me that long?

I'm not a good enough person, let alone for Y/N.

Who would even want to love someone like me?

That's usually where the thinking stops.

So he decides for himself. Going out to parties to pick and choose which girls to make out with. No strings attached, just his physical desires to be satisfied.

He knows it's massed up, even more so when you're at said parties, keeping a lookout for someone with your matching tattoo. And so Sirius keeps his shoulder covered. You don't know he's your soulmate, and a part of his never wants you to.

Unfortunately, you're good friends, and he doesn't want you getting hurt over the fact he doesn't want a soulmate.

By the time he's done sticking his tongue down another girl's throat, he usually hears that you've decided to call it an early night.

It all comes crashing down one New Year's Day.

It's the adrenaline of counting down in the very crowded room, and the feeling of someone grabbing him to be their New Year's kiss. Everyone welcomes the start of a new era with a cheer.

The party goes well into the night before Sirius decides to finally crash in his room. He immediately falls asleep as his head hits the pillow.

He wakes up with the usual hangover headache, but nothing a bowl of ice water can't fix. A quick shower and a carton of juice later, he checks his phone for his missed notifications.

Moony: wake up, get to the hospital now. Moony: Sirius where are you??? Moony: we're outside room 402 when you get here. Prongs: Y/N's sick again, we're heading home Prongs: she won't stop throwing up idk what to do Prongs: we're going to the emergency room Prongs: call me when you see this Lilypad: James and i are going to the hospital with Y/N, call us when you see this Lilypad: Sirius if you do not wake the fuck up right now i will actually come for your throat.

Sirius doesn't think he's gotten ready so quickly in his life. To be fair, he was still in his pyjamas, just adding his leather jacket and running out of the door with his keys, wallet and phone in hand.

When he arrives, he sees his three friends outside of the room you're in.

"What happened?" he asks, panting from all the running.

"They don't for sure know yet," Remus says, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.

Lily is sitting on the chair, her hair is tied messily in a ponytail. "They think it's soul-repelling."

Sirius furrows his brows, "What does that mean?"

"My parents talked about it once," James says from his seat next to Lily. "They used to talk about stories of people who constantly reject the soul bond they had with their soulmate, which would cause the other person to be very sick. Or in worse cases, die."

Lily visibly hates the way James says it, and he knows it. He tries to comfort her by holding her hand, their matching flower tattoos on their hands side-by-side.

"...But she doesn't know her soulmate yet?" Sirius asks carefully, trying to sound normal.

James shrugs. "She may not, but they say the way her body is reacting means her soulmates knows it's her."

Sirius feels his breath knock out, his heart pounding, realising what he's done. He's been rejecting their bond the entire time. All the while he thought he was doing himself a favour, he made her suffer for his selfish needs.

The ache in his heart is undeniable. He grabs the fabric that covers his heart and feels his breath get heavier.

"Sirius?" Remus calls, noticing his actions.

"It's- it's my fault..." Sirius feels tears start to prick at his eyes.

"What?"

"It was me," he starts to remove his jacket and shirt, showing the tattoo on his shoulder for the first time. "It's me-" his voice cracks. He turns to the door, "I need to get in there."

"Woah wait- Sirius!"

But he bursts through the door to the ward. He runs in and the first thing he notices is you staring at him, paler than he's ever seen you before. You have eyebags and you're heaving, as if you'd just thrown up before he came in.

The nurse next to you speaks up, "Sir, you can't be in here yet-"

"I'm sorry!" he yells, grabbing your hand and bending over the bed. He buries his face in your chest.

"Sirius?" you whisper, confused, but you finally see the print on his shoulder. "Oh."

"I've known for the longest time and that was so selfish of me. And it's still so selfish of me to want you still," tears are fully flowing down his cheeks now. "I've realised I cannot lose you. But would you allow me to be selfish one more time and ask for you to forgive me?"

If anything, you're too stunned to speak. One minute you were throwing your guts up and suddenly your best friend is crying in front of you and he's also your soulmate.

But at the same time, you start to feel your body be at ease. The nausea is already starting to subside. His warm hand in your cold one feels nice. Like two puzzle pieces finding each other.

You cough, feeling your throat finally clear. You look down, and SIrius is still crying, his question still hangs in the air. He waits for your answer.

"I hope you know you have a lot of making up to do after this," you say softly, smiling.

He heaves the biggest sigh of relief. He leans towards your hands and kisses them. "Of course, anything for you. Oh thank god."

You chuckle. "I'm so glad it's you, actually. I had a feeling."

He looks up at you, "Really? How'd you know?"

You shrug. "Just a feeling I guess. Probably a soulmate thing."

He smiles, the universe has his back, he thinks. "Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Sirius I just threw up, I'm not letting you taste whatever is in my mouth right now," you say. "But the rest of my face is available."

He opts to kiss your cheek instead. And something in him clicks. It feels normal, it feels right.

Yeah, the universe definitely knew what they were doing.

[heartfullofleeches]

Oh god V x loser darling would be a ship made in hell two deranged idiots together causing untold destruction

As mentioned in this post, V and Loser Reader seem to absolutely fucking despise each other on the surface, but while Reader might actually hate him - V is crushing hard and his feelings show when they attempt to leave his presence or talk to someone else. I imagine they met somewhere online- their first encounter being some dumb comment war beef between them or screaming match in a game lobby and when Reader roasts his ass, not realizing he's a serial doxxer and will release someone's address just for saying his favorite anime is mid, V gathers their information and starts to stalk them planning on ruining their life - but once he finally sees a picture of them his stupid ass immediately starts crushing on them and uses the information he's gained to scare them into dating him

-

V: Your argument falls through as you clearly have the vocabulary of a middle schooler. Even a literal child would be better at getting their point across that you. Can you even form one coherent sentence, you fucking parasite-

Loser Reader: Kys. Freak.

V: I'm going to dox you and your entire family. We'll see how brave you are when your address is posted for everyone to find

Loser Reader: Here's something to help you out, bitch. [Sends him a private message of themself giving him the middle finger]

[V quietly removes their username from the folder titled "hitlist" and saves the picture they sent him - adding it to different folder titled "Homework"] (spoilers: it ain't homework in that folder)

-

Loser Reader: I'm heading out!

V: Who the fuck said you could leave without me?

Loser Reader: Kiss my ass, Vince.

V:

V: I mean I'll do it, but you're still not leaving this house.

-

Loser Reader: Vince, can I use your credit card?

V: With the way you treat me? Fuck no.

[Loser Reader pulls out a pair of cat ears and puts them on]

Loser Reader: Vincey....

V: No, Y/n.

Loser Reader: but your kitty needs it. 👉👈 You don't want to have a sad kitty do you? Sad kitties don't buy maid dresses and cute lingerie with your money to make themselves cute, and submissive and breedable for you-

[V sighs and hands them his wallet]

Loser Reader, tossing the cat ears into the trash: Thanks, Virgin. Would've offered to suck you off if you held out a bit longer, but oh well~

V: ....I will report all of my cards as stolen if you aren't on your knees by the time I count to three

[justice-maul]

Hi maul!! Would it be cool if I requested Tony Stark x Younger Poolboy reader smut headcanons? (DomTop reader ofc) I know from your post that college is kicking your ass rn so take as much time as you want with this👌🏾👌🏾

Tony Stark x Younger Poolboy Male Reader | Headcanons

Word count: 2,344

Summary: Pepper and Tony are not together and this is set before Iron Man 3 before his mansion was destroyed

Author Note: Keep in mind, English isn’t my first language, thank you anon your very sweet and I love writing about Tony Stark I’m obsessed with this man 😩 I made it extra long as a peace offering lol 😭

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Tony, age gap (not specific), porn with plot, reader is muscular and tall, manhandling kink, cum, degrading praise, humiliation, mentions of rough sex, and making out

Tony was a playboy so things like pool parties were a must and when it got too dirty (cause he never cleans it after) he told his assistant Pepper to get a poolboy so she hired one paying before hand and he almost forgot about it until you came over,

Pepper happened to be out that day so when there was a knock on the door he was forced with a groan to go and answer it only to be completely awestruck by the man he saw

He could tell that you were younger then him and you were very attractive to say the least, you were tall and well built so even while you were introducing yourself as his poolboy and trying to be professional he was barely paying attention

"Do you have any experience as a pool boy or…?" He asked staring at you thoughtfully and then added after a few seconds “Actually, I don't really care, I just want to look at you"

He said with a playful smile and considering that Tony’s playboy ways weren’t exactly hidden from the public you weren’t that surprised only raising an eyebrow at the comment

“Do you want me to get started Mr. Stark?” You said clearing your throat to which he immediately nodded his lips curving into a smirk

"Yes but I want you to call me Tony" his eyes continuing to rake over your body intently as he talks "Well? Are you ready to get started?" He steps to the side giving you room to come in

“Sure… Tony.” You said with a small smile not being used to talking to a man as powerful as him so casually as you walked through his large mansion following behind him “So, Y/n, can you actually clean a pool or is that just an excuse to see me?” He says in a teasing voice

Trying to be a professional you ignored the flirtatious comment giving a small half chuckle “You don’t have to worry about that Tony, I know how to clean a pool,” You said with a reassuring smile as he lead you to your pool

“Well then, if you know how to clean the pool, I’ll let you get to work,” he said in a playful voice as he sat down in a chair by the pool, his arms crossed against his chest, watching you shamelessly with his sunglasses on and a wide grin on his lips as he watched you work for a while

“Your a really good at this Y/n, how about you come back and continue working as my pool boy?” He asks when he sees you done with the pool looking you up and down all over watching as your muscles flexed with your every move “Sure, I don’t mind doing that for you,”

"I'm going to give you my number so you can call me anytime handsome," he pulls out his wallet handing you a business card "You could go ahead and save that in your contacts,” he says with a wink before turning to leave going back to his work letting you see yourself out

And that’s how it all started, every week you’d come over and get work done for him and every time like there was nothing better to do, Tony would stand by and watch making the occasional flirty comments, and every time he planned some excuse for Pepper to leave for a long time so he could get some alone time with you

To say Tony had constant lust filled thoughts about his pool boy was an understatement, Tony was already usually dominant and always on top but every time he thought of Y/n he was on the bottom it was a completely new feeling to him one that he hasn’t experienced before but that only made him more excited and more… impatient. Every night was a new fantasy of the pool boy with different scenarios of Y/n manhandling him but soon the imagination wasn’t enough he wanted more and his body was begging for attention

You’ve been working for Tony for a while now and he asked you to come over and help him with the pool and like usual you came over, Tony opened the door, greeting you with his red robe on and only boxers underneath as he invited you in, like usual he watched you work but for some reason today seemed different, you’ve never seen Tony only wearing that and you couldn’t say it wasn’t enticing to see

He walked over to you once you were done and put his hands around your shoulders drawing you closer to him “Tell me Y/n… have you ever been with an older man?” he said looking up into your eyes, for once he was skipping past the teasing, like he was already somewhat begging as his eyes showed pure lust and desire behind them, he watched as you shook your head no and he chuckled softly smiling again

“Then I hope your ready to start with one…” he said in a flirtatious voice and moved one of his hands to slowly rub up and down your chest feeling the well decoupled muscles underneath his hand which caused you to suck in a breath as your eyes couldn’t help but scan over his exposed body and the look in your eyes almost him whimper as he continued to stroke your chest looking like he couldn’t wait to see your clothes off as well

"Well...are you sure you want to be a pool boy? I can think of a few other more... intimate things that you could be for me,” his voice dropped to a low and seductive tone voice as he moved his hands towards your muscular and well-developed biceps gently squeezing a little “I can still be your pool boy and do… other things,” you moved your hands to grab his waist pulling him closer to you gently rubbing his side as you looked his body over

"So...you like what you see, huh?" He said teasingly as he smirked before you then moved your hand underneath his robe and gently gripped his ass causing his face to flush and for a small moan to escape his lips “I can’t say I was expecting that…” he said with a smile on his face his voice still as needy as ever “but I liked it a lot,” his smile turned into a grin as he gently squeezed your biceps a little more

You chuckled “I know you like the attention,” and then pulled him in closer so your lengths were pressed right up against each other and you were kneading his cheeks with your hands "Do you want to make me the happiest man in the whole universe?… Because I think it might already be working. You just need to keep going." He said in a breathy voice biting his bottom lip in excitement before leaning in and whispering

“I like this attention…” he added giving a look of pure lust and want , “Well who said I was planning on stopping?” You said with a small smirk and gripped his cheeks a little harder he let out another moan of pleasure and his hands squeezed your biceps in an attempt to calm his heart that was practically beating out of his chest as he let out a small sigh “Oh this is exactly how I imagined it…” he said sucking a breath

“Well this isn’t the exact way I imagined it but it’s pretty close,” you whispered with a small chuckle as he stared at your face a small smile spreading on his lips “Well what did you imagine?…” he asked his voice was now more flirtatious and full of desire as his small smile turned into a large smirk as you leaned closer to him gently grabbing his neck, “That I had you bent over in your bedroom as you let me manhandle you the way I know you’d like.” You whispered lowly in his ear

Tony’s eyes widened as Y/n spoke in his ear in a way that made his whole body shake, and he began to breath more heavily, “Well what are you waiting for?… do it already,” he said almost begging as he looked up at you with helpless eyes, which you only made you grin wider in amusement watching as he was practically itching to just get a taste of what that would all be like, his mind immediately imagining all of the things you’d do to him…

And that’s how you ended up in Tony’s bedroom kissing him passionately still standing as your tongues glide against each other, his hands clawing at your back desperately trying to pull you close to him as you rubbed your cock against his hole through his boxers causing him to whine as he felt your hard on rub him in just the right way but he wanted more, he needed more… he’s never had someone inside him before and the thought made his body tremble with both nervousness and excitement

You step back and remove your shirt and Tony watches, the feeling of losing complete control for the first time is making this so much intense for him as he looks up at you “Tell me… how are you gonna use me?” He asks teasingly his voice dripping with desire as he looked your body over and you chuckled “I’d rather leave it a surprise.” you said not breaking eye contact with your piercing eyes which only made his heart beat faster in anticipation

"Now you made me curious...I can't wait to see what you're planning to do..." he whispers as he moves closer towards you, he still has his eyes locked on him, as he seems completely entranced by the man's powerful muscular body and presence. your eyes felt so...intimidating. Tony knows that whatever your planning, he is in for a good night “Come closer and I’ll show you,” is all you had to say before Tony took another step forward so your bodies were pressed up against each other again his heart practically pounding in his chest at thought of a younger man taking control of him

"Now we're very close, what are you waiting for?" He whispers as he stares into your eyes with lust, a smile on his face as he waits to see what your going to do to him “Don’t be impatient.” you say and cup Tony’s jaw and grabs his waist with a firm grip on both Tony's body seems to tremble a bit at your grip, their eyes are still locked, and Tony's breathing had gotten more heavy as he slowly nodded and your scent slowly started to fill his nose

Your hands begin to move around his body feeling him up as he practically melted at the whole thing his eyes half lidded still never left yours as you finally settled your hand right on his waist band which made his breath hitch in anticipation as you removed his clothes, and then removed yours…

The first was absolutely incredible for the both of you, Tony had never taken it from behind but he was glad his first time was with you, seeing his mouth hung open as you stretched out his hole and his noises only getter louder and needier, the older man who was known to make anyone crumble beneath him was coming undone in mere seconds just by you, and god, you felt blessed to see the sight, his back arched with sweat glistening his body, his red cock standing as it dripped a puddle of precum onto his stomach from the lack attention and his body shivering with anticipation, his head crawling with both fear and excitement at the new experience,

And of course once he got a small taste, he was greedy for more. You found yourself at Tony’s house almost every week fixing a new problem that would soon end up with the two of you doing it practically anywhere and everywhere in his house. You’ve fucked him on the kitchen counter, he’s sucked you off in the living room, and even had him against the wall, slowly his body didn’t react to anyone else anymore and he found himself calling you often and not even hiding behind an excuse like usual just plain on begging you to fuck him,

To say the man wasn’t tempting would be a lie, he’d whisper constantly in your ear all things he imagined you doing to him, or wear practically nothing every time you came around. To say he was desperate for attention was an understatement, he always craved it from everyone but now he only wanted it from you, he was never loud with anyone else but every time with you he felt like screaming in absolute ecstasy.

The sex was messy all around and pretty rough most of the time, not that Tony would have it any other way, he loved it when you messed him up, cumming inside of him or outside, he loves it most in his ass and on his face, he loves the messy and wet kisses you’d give him as you practically devoured him, the way you would move his body in a way you preferred like he was some type of toy to you. everything you did made his body shiver and he loved it,

He knew you were younger then him and that its considered strange having someone like that top and dominate an older man but the whole thing turned him on so much he couldn’t care less that a younger guy was doing all this to him, if anything the humiliation that someone like that could ruin him and make him into a begging mess only fueled him further, the degrading praise you’d give him, it made him go insane with pleasure.

You were the same too, you loved making fun of him in bed for letting someone younger then him who even works for him make him like this, you were his employee, you weren’t rich, or famous, and yet he let the same man he wouldn’t usually bat an eye at, use his body in every way you wanted, having someone he would consider low and beneath him do all this to him made him twice as needy and having such a powerful man under your control never ceased to feel anything but good, especially with a man like Tony Stark.

[hannieehaee]

i dont know if u accept smut reqs but if u don’t please ignore my ask and i’m so sorry for overstepping!!

but could i please req a hard dom!seungkwan who teaches u a lesson at home after u couldn’t stop whining and begging for him at dinner with ur friends?

18+ / mdi

content: dom!seungkwan, afab reader, teasing, smut, oral (m receiving), letc.

wc: 1399

a/n: im so sorry i took so long to finish this!!! ive been trying to make time for all reqs so its taking a while to get them all out T-T anyways thank u for requesting and i hope u enjoy!!

masterlist

it was common for seungkwan to bring you along whenever he had dinner with the members. it had kind of become a tradition to have dinner together at least once a month, with the members' respective significant others tagging along.

you had been part of the crew for a while, having been dating seungkwan for an extended period of time by now. you were practically just another friend to the members at this point, making all of you quite comfortable with one another.

maybe too comfortable.

seungkwan always thought of you as a well-behaved girl. not even in a dirty way or anything. he just knew you were never the type to act out in public or to purposely become a nuance to him. yes, you would banter with him sometimes, but it was always in good faith and never really went anywhere. sure, you'd often tease him in the bedroom and take advantage of your effect on him time after time, but this always remained behind closed doors.

which was why seungkwan was quite shocked at the way in which you had suddenly decided to behave.

you weren't being too obvious about it, keeping your brattiness between you and himself. it started with a few touches far too high on his thigh, followed by raunchy comments hidden behind a cough. then it evolved into lustful eyes staring down on his own whenever no one was looking.

it even manifested itself into you cornering him on your way to the bathroom as he came back from a bathroom break himself.

you'd planted a steamy kiss on his lips and felt him up in a very unseemly way before letting him know you 'wanted his cock so fucking bad' and making your merry way to the bathroom as he walked back to the table completely flustered. it then (unsurprisingly) proceeded into a text message received by seungkwan a few moments later, a message containing your bare breasts and a look in your eye that he only ever saw between the sheets. except you weren't between his sheets. you were at the restaurant's bathroom, making a fool of him with a mere picture.

that was more or less where seungkwan felt it'd be appropriate to put his foot down. he was never good at resisting you, and he knew that adding the extra layer of being surrounded by his members would only make him break sooner or later. so he decided to throw you a curveball and storm after you in the bathroom, coughing out an excuse of 'forgot my wallet in the restroom' to the other guys before sneaking his way into the hallway leading to the restroom. that's where he found you making your way back to the table before wordlessly dragging you to one of the spacious gender neutral stalls and locking the door.

immediately pushing you up against the wall, he practically growled out his next words.

"you wanted me to embarrass myself out there, huh? knowing i dont know how to act any time you tease me," he assessed, knowing he was right by your shocked expression.

you clearly were expecting him to crumble and make up some weak excuse in order to take you home as you smirked next to him, giving the members clear indication of who begged for who in the relationship. but he decided to turn things on you and give you a taste of your own medicine, maybe show you what it was like to get on your knees for your beloved.

"no, i-"

"did i say you could speak? good girls stay quiet til i tell them do speak. do you understand?", his hands went to run up and down your body, making a game plan of how he was going to take you.

"y-yes."

"good girl. now ..."

his eyed drifted down to your cleavage, reminding him of the dirty picture you had sent him earlier.

without a second thought, his hands grabbed onto your cleavage and forcefully pulled it down, ripping a bit at the arms of your dress before diving right to your tits, mouth open and willing.

"k-kwannie, what are you-"

he ignored your gasp, simply adding more force to the suckling of your breasts, using his arms to push up your hips against his own as he began to grind against you. his groans and your gasps were the only thing that could be heard in the empty restroom.

after getting his fill of your tits in his mouth, he became too frustrated by the mere friction he felt at the grinding of your hips, opting instead to guide you into a kneeling position in front of him.

"you're gonna be a good girl and take care of the problem you caused, right, baby?", he looked down at you with indescribable lust in his gaze.

"yes, kwannie ... want it in my mouth so bad," you begged, licking at him through his pants while you gave him the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen.

in any other occasion, this would've had him on his knees, begging for your mouth around his dick and crying as he felt the barest touch, but today he had to prove a point.

"stop messing around and get my cock out. don't make me repeat myself," he didn't recognize himself as he ordered you around, but he liked the shudder he saw go through you at his demanding tone.

without complaint, you hurriedly undid his pants and brought his boxers down, immediately getting to work as you licked and kissed at his tip.

he threw his head back at your teasing, unable to reprimand you for it. it just felt so fucking good.

luckily for both you and him, this didn't last long. before even realizing it, you were already gagging on as much of his cock as you could get into your mouth, looking up at him with furrowed brows as you wordlessly begged him. he was confused as to what you were begging for at first, only realizing what you meant when you brought his hands behind your head, slightly making him push your head forward and- oh.

was this what you wanted? was this what you'd been after all along?

you wanted him to take control and use you for his pleasure. fuck.

he almost came at the realization, until realizing that he'd much rather cum after fucking your mouth until you cried.

he began pistoling his hips against your mouth, moaning as you let yourself become his pretty fleshlight while he groaned at both the sight and feeling. maybe you weren't a bad behaved girl after all. maybe all you wanted was him to take his frustrations out on you and use you like the pretty doll you were.

or at least he hoped this was the case, because he was already addicted.

"pretty thing ... oh, fuck. such a pretty thing for me to use, aren't you? gonna cum in your mouth, okay? gonna fill you up and you're gonna swallow it all for me, yeah?", he mumbled between moans, knowing his end would come faster than expected.

and he was right. his orgasm took over just moments later, with his hands dragging your head up and down his cock while his hips thrust into your awaiting mouth. he completely lost himself as his orgasm washed over him, making him lose all sense of his surroundings and almost disregard your gagging as he filled your mouth.

he pulled away moments after, crying out in painful pleasure when you still managed to suckle on his sensitive tip as he pulled himself out of your mouth.

he let himself fall down against the wall, now sitting at your level as he tried to catch his breath.

"i hate you," he groaned between breaths.

"yeah. i believe that. you just fucked my mouth like you wanted me dead," you chuckled as you also attempted to regulate your breathing.

"wasn't that what you wanted?", he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"maybe."

"you menace," he chuckled despite his words.

"you like it," you got close enough to him to land a sweet peck on his lips.

"i wont when we have to go out there and explain what we were doing this whole time."

"i got my fill of cock, nothing else matters."

he'd been completely wrong. you were absolutely not a well-behaved girl.

[freyarabbit]

Yep! Sure thing. I appreciate the detail you added in the request! It helps alot! 💖

◆¡Can't be sneaky with six eyes around!◆

request.1

[9:24 pm]

It's almost thirty minutes past your bedtime. Though that may sound childish, considering your job as of now was far from it. But a fixed bedtime was a necessity, if you wanted to be able to wake up early in the morning without being tired out of your mind.

But, just for today, you sacrificed that, after receiving quite the peculiar message by Megumi, asking you to come over. It's true you need sleep, but Megumi's definitely more important. Plus, this invitation was simply irresistible. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to get all mad and pouty, would you?

Both of you barely got time to do...stuff together during the day because of your horrible jobs, hard studies and clingy friends. Night time was the best to avoid getting caught too.

Slowly making your way over to him from the hallway, being as quiet as possible not to wake up Yuuji, even though you knew how much of a deep sleeper he is.

You opened his door swiftly without knocking "hey" you saw him already standing at the entrance for you, as he pulled you into a kiss, leaving you stunned for a second.

His arms enveloped around you as you both stumbled towards his bed, your minds too focused on each other to keep it down and realize how noisy the wooden floorboards were getting with their creaking. Something you may or may not regret later.

At the quiet and eerie entrance of the jujutsu tech Dormitories, the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru, or otherwise known as an annoying goofball by his students, was sneaking around to get his wallet back, which he'd left there by accident, having been busy as hell annoying a certain black haired boy.

He'd figured all of you would be asleep by now, so it would be okay for him to just quietly go in and out.

As he got the brown wallet in his grasp, his sharp ears picked up what sounded like creaking, giggles and whines. Surprisingly, he didn't know what was going on immediately, instead, blindly approaching the source.

Noticing Megumi's door creaked open, he looked in, his eyes widening due to what was before him.

You right beneath him, as he kissed your cheeks, lips, forehead and what not.

Unlike a normal person, who'd probably back away as quickly as possible to avoid getting caught watching, he just let out a loud gasp.

Megumi felt his heart literally jump out of his chest, but not the way it does when he sees you. It was different. Fear and annoyance taking over him, while you looked at the white haired man with your jaw dropped, embarrassment washing over you.

"YOU BOTH ARE TOGETHER LIKE THIS ALREADY?? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" He said, in disbelief that the boy he raised since he was 6 years old hadn't told him about his love life.

Megumi looked back at him with an expression that you could only describe as furious but defeated at the same time.

"Will you keep it down?! Do you not know how to knock?? Stop embarrassing me."

You could've sword you saw the biggest blush appearing on his features, as he avoided making eye contact with anyone. You chuckled, which turned into laughter.

This made him turn his toward you, his brows furrowed,

"Seriously???"

Quickly looking back at Gojo he spoke low

"I swear to God if you tell anyone and ruin my life for the hundredth time-"

Gojo Satoru sighs, pouting as he replied, "Fine fine, I won't tell or whatever."

He jokingly scoffed and left, the sounds of you and Megumi discussing the situation could be heard as he did, a few things were running through his mind. He knew both of you had alot of chemistry, but he didn't think you'd get into that much far of a point in your relationship without him knowing. He was glad both of you could feel like normal teenagers for once, but anxiety was still eating away at him deep down. He couldn't let anything ruin this. Which could be hard. He mentally swore to protect all his students, especially Megumi and you.

A smile stretched across his face, as he walked out.

Alright! That was it! I hope this met your expectations! <3

[gingiesworld]

I Am Not Matt

Leigh Shaw x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Unhappy ending

18+ MINORS DNI

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Ever since Y/N had come into Leigh’s life, she had finally started to believe that she could move on, move past the grief that swallowed her whole. Y/N had always surprised her with flowers when they came home from work, took her out on spontaneous dates and even cooked her her favourite meal. Even though those gestures made Leigh see just how lucky she was to have such an attentive partner, she slowly started to withdraw herself from the relationship. The nights they would spend together between the sheets became little to non-existent, the spontaneous dates never really happened as Leigh always came up with some sort of excuse as to why she didn’t want to do it. Even when she received flowers soon fizzled out, Y/N soon started to realise that she was pulling further and further away. They barely spoke anymore, everytime Y/N would start up a conversation, Leigh would completely shut it down almost immediately.

“I’m off.” Y/N would say every morning when they saw her in the kitchen having her morning smoothie, their heart broke a little when she only shrugged. So they left without a single word off of Leigh. They spent their day working under the hot sun, wondering what had went wrong between the two of them.

“You look like you could do with a drink after work.” Jim stated as he helped Y/N by holding the plank of wood in place for Y/N to drill it into place. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” They answered him.

“Then it’s settled, we’re having a drink and you can tell me all about it.” He told them before they both moved on to their next tasks. The day soon went by fairly quickly, work and banter with their colleagues slowly taking their mind off of their failing relationship. Soon they found themselves sitting in a booth at a bar not too far from the construction site. “So, talk to us.” Jim told them once they had their first drink.

“You know Leigh and I have been together for a couple of years right.” Jim nodded and waited for them to continue. “I think she.” They took a deep breath. “She’s pulling away from me and I don’t know how I can fix it.”

“Have you tried talking to her?” He questioned as they just nodded.

“She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. There’s no communication with her and I am trying, I am really trying to do everything I can to try and make it right and make it work.” They rambled on as they played with their glass, swirling the liquid within. “I don’t think she loves me anymore.” They whispered sadly before they downed their drinks.

“How long has this been going on for?” He asked as Y/N shrugged.

“Months.” They told him honestly. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, I know she gets out of our bed once she thinks I’m asleep.”

“Do you think she could be cheating on you?” He asked them as they shrugged.

“I don’t know.” They looked at him sadly. “I just, I love her more than anything and I don’t think she will ever feel for me the way I feel for her.”

“Well, I think you really need to make a decision, you have got to do what makes you happy.” He told them. “If your relationship is failing, and you’re the only one who is putting in all of the effort, it’s best to jump ship.”

“I was going to propose on our next anniversary.” They admitted. “I already have the ring and everything prepared.”

“I’m so sorry buddy.” Was all he could say before Y/N grabbed their wallet and left, paying the tab beforehand. They hadn’t realized the time when they had gotten home, seeing Leigh sat on the sofa, her eyes glued to the door in which they entered.

“Where were you?” She questioned them angrily. “You were supposed to be home hours ago!”

“So you finally noticed me?” They sneered as they moved towards the kitchen. “You’ve spent months ignoring me, forgetting I even exist.”

“Have you been drinking?” She questioned as they just laughed at her. “Are you cheating on me?”

“Why would I cheat on you, huh?!” They questioned angrily. “You know that is something I would never do! I don’t make promises just to break them, and I am not Matt.”

“No, you’re nothing like Matt.” Leigh seethed. “He knew me! He loved me!”

“If he loved you, he wouldn’t have cheated on you!” They yelled. “I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. You know the kind of person I am, when I want a relationship, I want to know that there is a future. You know very well I don’t do flings and I never saw you as just a fling.” They looked in her eyes sadly, reaching into their pocket. “I wanted everything with you, I wanted to build a life and a future with you. I love you so fucking much.” Their tears started to fall as they spoke. “But I know that you don’t love me, I was just a means to help you to try and forget your pain. It’s more like an addiction to you, and once I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, you go back into this place. You shut everyone out, everyone who loves, when was even the last time you spent time with your mom or Jules these past few months?”

“I see them every day.” She answered them with a scoff.

“At work!” They yelled. “You haven’t seen them at any other time! You go to work and then come home. Maybe you go to the store on some days to get you endless bottles of wine.”

“This isn’t even the point I was getting at!” She yelled in frustration, making Y/N laugh loudly.

“You haven’t spoke a single word to me, and you have the nerve to think I would hurt you.” They told her shakily. “You have no idea how much you have hurt me, you shut me out, I had no idea what I had done wrong, I was trying to figure it out for months. But, I had done things the way I have always done them since I first asked you out. I continued to do all of the things that made you smile, or laugh. I genuinely thought we had a future.” Leigh watched as Y/N had completely detached themselves from her. “I do love you, but I can’t do this anymore.” They told her as they pointed between themselves. “I can’t keep allowing myself to get hurt because I love you so much. It’s not fair on me.”

“What are you saying?” Leigh questioned, the first sound of regret in her voice.

“I’m saying it’s over.” They told her bluntly. “Us, we’re done. I’m done.” They sighed as Leigh just watched as they moved towards their room, grabbing a bag before packing some of their belongings. “I’m going to sign myself off of the lease.”

“You can’t.” Leigh whispered as she watched them from the doorway.

“I have to.” They told her as they zipped up their bag. “I need to leave before what we have kills me, and you need to move on. Just because you’re still alive while he’s not, doesn’t mean that you can’t learn to love someone new. You deserve to be happy Leigh, you just need to heal first instead of hiding from the pain.”

[sp-by-april]

I'm gonna be so real with yall, I literally scrapped the whole thing and rewrote it after talking to @angel-gone-dark tonight lol. This F!Reader is definitely me with the serial number filed off, but yall are welcome to enjoy it. I hope you like PRAISE 🥰😍

PC!Kyle x F!Reader

[Kyle Broflovski Master List]

Have you ever had a first date so awful that you immediately went to a different bar?

Well, I’d just finished one for the record books. There was this little hotel bar downtown where I knew I had very little chance of running into anyone I knew... So I headed straight there.

I ordered a whiskey sour and this older guy next to me took notice.

“The whiskey here kind of sucks, and it’s overpriced. Oh-for-two,” He slurred.

“Thanks, for the tip,” I rolled my eyes and grabbed my drink the second that the bartender set it down.

He nudged me with his elbow, “I’ve got the real top shelf upstairs in my room,”

“Stan, she could be your fucking daughter,” The voice next to him scolded.

“Shit,” Stan looked me over, “Are you my daughter?”

“Maybe. My ex was always ranting about my daddy issues and you look like just the sort of guy who could cause them,” I said matter-of-factly.

Stan nudged his friend next, “Pay for her drink, I’m gonna hit the head,”

He spun out of his seat and headed to the back of the bar while I said a silent prayer.

Stan’s friend slid over to the seat next to me and whipped out his wallet, “Sorry about him,”

“It’s fine,” I sipped my drink, “I just had a horrible date so it makes sense that trying to decompress from it is just as annoying,”

He tossed a pile of cash on the bar top and signaled the bartender for two more drinks, “How horrible?”

“When I introduced myself...” I took a deep, centering breath, “He said I wasn’t the type of girl he usually dated,”

He looked at me suspiciously, “...Hot?”

I fought back a smile and took another sip, “Let’s go with that, yeah,”

He was the kind of guy it was easy to open up to and I’m the kind of girl who’s a sucker for anyone who can crack through my armor. I couldn’t help it, I was attracted to him. We got our introductions out of the way and I knew that if I had the chance, I’d fuck Kyle before the night was over.

Luckily when Stan came back, he gave me the opening I was looking for, “Is she coming upstairs with us?”

“Why not? You’ve got the top-shelf stuff, right?” I shrugged and tried to keep an air of casual disinterest.

The hotel suite was huge. My friends and I had all gotten together recently, pooling our resources to rent a room to party in and even with four of us, it was half the size.

I sat down on the couch and tried not to be intimidated as Stan clanked an expensive-looking bottle of booze on the table in front of me and two glasses.

“You guys have fun,” He said with an exaggerated yawn, “I’m gonna crash,”

He headed to the bedroom and then stuck his head out, “Kyle, actually I think I locked myself out of the safe. Can you come here a second?”

Kyle rolled his eyes and followed Stan into the room.

I waited patiently for maybe a minute. I knew I had put myself in a pretty reckless situation, so I’m not proud, but I eavesdropped.

I heard the sound of a lot of weight on bed-springs. I figured Stan finally collapsed.

“You’re gonna fuck her, aren’t you?” Stan chuckled.

Kyle sounded hopeful, “If I’m lucky,”

“There’s a bottle of Viagra in my drawer,” Stan added helpfully.

“I’m good, but thanks for the assist,”

“She’s how old?” He asked incredulously.

“Twenty… something,”

“Uh-huh. She’s a hot girl who’s used to fucking other twenty-something guys with all the stamina in the world. That’s all I’m saying,”

“If I change my mind you’ll be the first to know,”

I pretended to mindlessly scroll through my phone as he reentered the room.

“Everything okay?” I asked as I slid my phone back into my purse.

Kyle looked me over with a slight smile, “Better now,”

He sat down next to me and I realized I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I decided to ignore it the best way I could think of… I kissed him.

He curled his hand around the back of my neck and I wanted to melt into him. I climbed on his lap instead.

Kyle scanned my face, “Your heart’s beating really fast,”

I felt like the sexual prowess and reputation of every girl under 30 was sitting squarely on my shoulders, of course my heart was racing.

“That’s…” I hoped the flush in my face wasn’t as obvious as it felt, “Weird,”

I leaned in to kiss him again, but he grabbed my wrist. I blinked as he took my pulse.

“Are you...” He looked me up and down again, “Do I make you nervous?”

“No. I mean– Maybe a little,”

He tilted his head as he tried to read me, “It’s because of your bad date from earlier, right?”

“Right,” I lied and then accidentally followed it with the truth, “I just don’t want to disappoint another guy,”

“I don’t think you could do that if you tried,” He cupped my cheeks in his palms, “Forget about him, you’re mine tonight,”

I kissed him as if my life depended on it. I slid my tongue in his mouth and as I felt him throb underneath me, I finally started to relax. I pulled off my blouse and he reached behind me and expertly, effortlessly, unhooked my bra. I tossed it behind me.

I dipped my hands between us so that I could unbutton and unzip him as we kissed. I was in for a surprise. The guy was fucking hung. I wasn’t prepared for it at all. Once I had him in my hand and I could feel just how thick he was and how sticky he was for me, I had to fight the anxiety back again.

I hiked up my skirt, slid my slit over him as he purred in my ear, “You’re so fucking wet,”

I sank onto him and gasped sharply. His hot breath fell onto my skin as he groaned, reveling in the initial sensation of squeezing inside.

I pulled him into another kiss as my hips started to move and I couldn’t believe how good he felt. His hands were drawn to my breasts, palming, caressing, and squeezing them so thoughtfully that I couldn’t help but whine, especially as his thumbs rolled over my nipples.

“You have a perfect body,” He was looking at me so intently, watching my every move, listening to my every sound, that I was starting to think that he was right.

To top it off, he was hitting that sweet spot inside of me so lusciously, that I knew I had a mind-blowing orgasm on the horizon. I was finally out of my head and just focusing on how good he fucking felt.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” He gathered up my hair and pulled it away from my face, “I want to see you feel as good as you look,”

I was somehow in control and completely under his thumb. It was more than a little intoxicating.

Then his hand dropped between us and his fingers found my clit. The way he touched me was so fucking good, and so overwhelming, I couldn’t take it. I prayed Stan was dead asleep as I moaned fucking shamelessly.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” He kissed my neck and I really didn’t have a choice.

My back arched and it felt like every single muscle in my poor little body seized up fiercely as all the pleasure swelled and crested inside of me. A loud, quivering moan poured out of me and I was practically shaking as the soft, silky walls inside of me closed around him. I gripped him tight, clinging onto him like the pathetic, desperately needy girl that I really was.

He pulled my mouth to his, as if he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. I’d never had a guy edge me on a fucking kiss before, all I could do was whimper at his mouth. As he scanned my face, he seemed so satisfied that it was palpable.

He finally pulled me the rest of the way and I locked my lips onto his like I starved for him. He groaned into my mouth and his eyes rolled back. His hips jumped up into me with a surprising amount of force and I sighed into our kiss as I felt every inch of him pulsing, filling me up with hot sticky spurts in a perfect culmination of his satisfaction.

Once it was over, he held my face, kissing me again and again. When we finally exchanged numbers at the end of the night, he saved my contact as “Pretty Girl” and I knew it was just a matter of time until we hooked up again.

[look-at-the-soul]

Because of you

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)

Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨

A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch

Word count: 2,308

“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”

She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.

“Are you home yet?” She asked.

“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.

“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.

Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.

Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.

“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.

“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.

“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”

Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.

“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.

“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.

“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”

As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.

She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.

“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”

His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”

“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.

“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.

Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.

“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.

“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.

“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.

“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”

Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”

“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”

“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.

“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.

Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.

He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.

And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.

“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”

He spied on the slices with several options.

“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.

“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”

“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.

A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.

“What is it?”

“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.

Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.

“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.

And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.

“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”

By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.

“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.

“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”

“Yay!”

“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.

“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.

She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.

“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”

Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.

“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”

“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”

“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”

Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.

“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”

He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.

He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.

“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.

“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.

“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”

“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”

“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.

But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.

As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.

Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.

But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.

The sight of him was mouthwatering.

And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.

“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”

He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.

“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.

“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.

As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.

Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.

“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.

“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.

Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.

“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”

After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.

“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.

Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.

“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.

“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.

Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.

“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”

Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”

After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”

“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.

“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.

“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.

“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.

“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.

“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”

“What?” Y/N was in shock.

“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.

“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.

“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.

“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“With a garden.” He encouraged.

“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.

“I want a doll house!”

“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”

As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.

“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.

And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.

****

I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx

Tacos recipe

Master list

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